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Subject: {ASSM} *NEW* Camp For Little Girls
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<1st attachment, "Camp_For_Little_Girls" begin>
WARNING:
This story is fiction, and should be treated as such.
The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and
contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or
reading sex stories upset you, do not read any further.
I am NOT the author. I don't have the talent to write these
stories. We can only be ... "TheEditor" and Associates.
Camp For Little Girls
by James Wheatfield
Chapter 1
Iris Harrault stepped back and surveyed the summer porch. It was
all ready -- newly dusted, the plants all green and thriving, the small
wicker table intimately laid for two. The whiskey sours were in the
refrigerator and the cold supper prepared. She glanced at her watch,
and then out the porch screen which looked out over the wooded drive.
No sign of him yet. I'll just freshen myself up, she thought, and then
he ought to be here.
She walked into the bathroom, and hurriedly combed her short dark
hair and applied a natural lip gloss to her lips. Casting a critical
glance over her figure, dressed in yellow -- her best color -- she
nodded to herself in satisfaction. Then she heard the sound of the car.
Running out to the driveway, she was just in time to see her
husband John step out of their station wagon.
Happily, she ran right up to him and he hugged her, lifting her
small frame right up off the ground.
"Mmm, good to see you again, honey," he murmured, kissing her soft
scented hair.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him lingeringly on
the lips. Arm in arm, they went inside.
Iris immediately got out the frosted glasses and poured them both a
drink. They sat on the cool porch, sipping their drinks and chatting
about John's trip to New York City.
"Boy, am I glad to be back here!" he said, shaking his head. "How
anyone can live in that city in the summer is beyond me!"
"Try running this place by yourself for a week, and then you might
be glad to get back to New York!" Iris retorted, only half-joking.
"Oh come on, honey, surely it isn't that bad!" John answered.
"Keeping eight teen-age girls in line is never easy!" Iris said,
looking at him steadily.
"Oh, I think I could handle them ... heh ... heh ..." John joked.
"I bet you could, you dirty old man!" Iris laughed.
This was the third year they had been running Endwood Camp. Ever
since they were married, it had been their driving ambition to purchase
some land in upstate New York and start a summer camp for young girls.
Finally, three years ago, they managed to, acquire some land in the
Catskills. It was a beautiful area, and they had built the main house
and the dormitory building right on the edge of the forest. That had
decided the name, "Endwood," and a short walk through the woods lead to
a beautiful lake, not very big, but excellent for swimming, created by a
tributary of the Delaware. The first two years, they had had only six
girls, but this year, they had eight. Actually, their financial status
at the end of the summer would determine whether they could continue the
camp in the future, and they were very anxious to make a success of this
summer, in the hope that the present boarders would telegraph the word
and result in even more applicants before the season was over.
But now, pressing as they were, their minds were not on the
business troubles of running the camp ...
"I've missed you, darling ..." Iris murmured, "after all, a week's
a long time!"
"After ten years of marriage," John kidded, "you should be sick of
me, not wanting me back!"
"Want me to prove it?" she asked teasingly, looking at him through
long dark lashes.
"Yes," he answered lightly. "Come to think of it, I do want
proof!"
Iris got up from her wicker chair, and slowly walked over to her
husband.
"Come with me, lover," she whispered huskily, taking his hand.
She half-pulled him into the bedroom, and he, continuing the game,
pretended not to know where they were going.
"What the ..." he said, smothering a laugh.
In their bedroom, Iris placed her drink on the bedside table and
then, slowly, deliberately, unzipped her sundress. The cotton dress
slipped down her lithe, tan body and fell in a heap on the floor. With
a flick of her fingers, she released her breasts from the confines of
her bra, and stood there, her bronze skin glowing against the whiteness
of her brief nylon panties.
John sucked in his breath at the sight of his wife's naked body.
He was still awed by the perfect symmetry of her frame. Even though she
was only five foot three, she was perfectly proportioned. Her firm
breasts were still upswept even at thirty-two, and her slender waist
flared to gracefully molded hips.
The past several years of physical activity had kept her legs in
trim athletic condition and there was not a trace of excess fat on her
sinewy thighs.
Aware of her husband's admiration, Iris slowly walked over to him,
hands on hips.
John was sitting on the bed, his drink in his hand. As he saw Iris
approaching, he took a long gulp from the glass and sat it down on the
table.
Iris sat down on his lap, and wrapped her arms around his neck.
She immediately began to blow softly into his ear, and John could feel
himself flush all over. His cock leapt into half-erection, and pushed
painfully against his pants, demanding release. The heady scent of
Iris's perfume filled his nostrils and he inhaled it. It seemed to waft
into his lungs and up to his brain until his entire being was
intoxicated by the musky fragrance. Iris nibbled at his ear, and played
with his hair, twisting her fingers through the strands, pulling and
tugging it gently. He could feel her full, firm breasts digging into
his chest, and the nipples were already beginning to rise from the
friction that Iris was voluntarily creating by rubbing them against the
nylon of his shirt.
He pulled her closer to him, and crushed his mouth down on hers.
He stroked her heart-shaped face, and his tongue slipped in past her
guardian teeth and joyfully united with hers. As they kissed, John
could feel a gnawing beginning in the pit of his stomach, and his cock
was even more painfully erect. He could feel Iris quiver beneath his
touch as she returned thrust for thrust with her own agile tongue. She
slipped her hand down and cupped his bulging genitals, massaging them
softly with an expert motion. The gnawing in his stomach was spreading
to his loins as he probed frantically with his tongue in the warm
softness of her mouth.
"Oh, honey ..." he moaned. Her stroking of his prick had become
more rapid, and her other hand was creeping down under his shirt collar
and tracing light feathery touches on his back. Suddenly, he couldn't
stand it any longer. He pushed her away from him, and she fell onto the
bed. He ripped off his clothes and stood over her, his erect cock
jutting out proudly, thankful for its freedom.
Iris lay spread-eagled on the bed, and looked up at him, her hazel
eyes half-closed. John could see her dark pubic hair through the
diaphanous material of her panties, and he noticed that the crotchband
was already moist. A sheer film of perspiration coated her inner
thighs, which were spread invitingly.
With a groan, John lowered himself over the prostrate figure of his
wife and once more clamped his lips down on hers. Her arms encircled
his neck and drew him even closer to her. His hands closed in on the
shivering orbs of her breasts, and he rolled the turgid nipples between
his thumbs and forefingers, eliciting little mewls of pleasure from
Iris. He felt the budding nipples grow under his manipulation until
they stood out tautly from the dark circled areolae. His hands dropped
down to her nipped-in waist, and still further, caressing the firm flesh
as they went. They came to the confining waistband of her panties, and
with an almost angry tug, tried to pull them off.
Iris raised her hips off the bed and John was able to slip the
flimsy nylon covering from her quivering thighs. He ran his hands
joyfully over her smooth hips, and cupped her pubic mound in his left
palm. Iris flexed her loins up and pressed her ebony-colored pubic
triangle against his palm, and began to gyrate slowly, grinding herself
up mercilessly. John probed and searched and finally parted the soft
throbbing furrow down between her legs.
Iris gasped as she felt his fingers come in contact with her
sensitive inner cuntal lips, and then began to moan as the ceaselessly
working fingers teased the delicate tissues.
"Aaaaaaahhhhhh," she sighed softly as the index finger came into
contact with the throbbing button of her clitoris. Expertly, she thrust
her pelvis up and John's finger stroked the acme of her desire, sending
chills rippling up and down her greyhound-like back. She could feel the
hardness of his prick digging into her lower stomach and she felt an
overpowering desire to have it crammed deep into her hot pussy. John's
middle finger found the star shaped entrance to her body, and plunged
into the warm fleshy folds. The contact with her hidden recesses seemed
to set off a spark in Iris's body, and she thrashed about, desperately
trying to engulf more of the fingers deeper into her hungry body. She
wrenched her mouth free from John's, and began to toss her head from
side to side.
"Oh, God, fuck me, darling, please fuck me now ..." she moaned,
digging her fingernails into her husband's back. Her animalistic
clawing touched off the dynamite of John's week-long abstinence and he
lowered himself slightly, until his prick was poised teasingly at her
tight quivering cuntal opening. Withdrawing the lubricant-soaked
fingers, he hesitated just a second before plunging his enlarged rod
into her waiting orifice.
"Ohohohoohh," Iris groaned, her body leaping up off the bed in
frenzied passion. She raised her legs and locked them tight up around
her husband's back, imprisoning him in a desperate love-grip.
Immediately, John began a slow fucking in and out, drawing the long
prick out until just the head was still enclosed, and then ramming
forward until the entire length of it was buried deep in her hungrily
grasping cunt. Iris began to answer his downthrusts with an upsweep of
her own, and tantalized his withdrawing cock by a slow, clasping
downsweep. Their years of lovemaking had honed their reactions to a
razor edge of precision and their bodies fucked in perfect unison, each
completely familiar with the other.
Iris moaned softly, her entire being engulfed with sensuous desire,
and John's gnawing had erupted into an all-devouring hunger, reaching
for complete lustful satiation.
* * *
Carla Stafford walked along the woodland path, her shoulders
slumped in dejection. Two weeks -- two weeks she had been here at
Endwood Camp, and it seemed like two years!!
Why did Daddy have to send me to camp again this year? she thought
bitterly. Why can't he see that I'm grown-up? I'll be fifteen in two
months, and he still treats me as if I'm a baby!
Oh, God, how I wish I could spend the summer with him, meeting all
those interesting people, instead of here with these silly schoolgirls!
She looked up, and found herself in the driveway to the main house.
She noticed the Harrault's station wagon and knew that John was back.
Curiosity lead her up the driveway. There was no one in sight. The
office door was locked so she couldn't even go talk to Mr. or Mrs.
Harrault. Shrugging her shoulders, she was just about to turn and go
back towards the wood, when she stopped. What was that strange noise?
Silently walking closer to the house, she listened. There it was again!
A whimpering, moaning sound! She tiptoed around the side of the house
and the moaning sound got louder. There was an open window a few feet
along the wall, and holding her breath, Carla crept up to it. Standing
upright, she was able to see over the edge of the window and into the
room.
Carla drew in her breath and gasped! Her eyes were riveted on the
nakedly entwined couple in the bedroom. She had never seen anything
like it! She knew she should leave, refrain from watching this private
scene, but she couldn't tear herself away.
She feasted her eyes on the writhing figures on the bed. Iris's
hands were digging hungrily into her husband's back, leaving deep red
scratches on the smooth surface. Her face was grotesquely distorted,
and her shiny dark hair was tangled and mussed. Her legs were kicking
furiously in a wild staccato into his lower back, urging him on to
greater and deeper surges. John's entire body glistened from his
exertion, and occasionally he dipped his mouth down, and planted
leechlike kisses on his wife's body, leaving a black and blue imprint of
teeth on her soft flesh.
Carla dug her knuckles into her mouth to try and stifle the cry
that was threatening to erupt when she first caught sight of John's huge
penis as it withdrew from Iris's hot moist cunt. Her eyes bulged as
they drank in the length of it. She couldn't believe that it could be
so thick, so huge. She had never seen a male penis before -- not even a
picture of one and she had no idea that it could get so big. A strange
new sensation caught hold of her body as she gazed at the skewering
instrument -- the blue venous underside, the angry red blood-engorged
head. She noticed his balls dangling obscenely down between his legs
and she thought she could see them throb with the weight of their lewd
liquid. She watched in amazement as she saw John suddenly grasp Iris's
legs and raise them up till they dangled over his shoulders. For a
moment, he gazed at the salacious view of her unprotected crotch that
this position afforded him, and as he did so, Carla could also see the
whole of Iris's upraised pelvis.
Even from outside the window, Carla could see the hungry clasping
hole of her cunt, opening and closing, trying to suck in anything that
ventured near. She could see that the outer lips were swollen in
passion, and the tip of her reddish clitoris was visibly quivering
through the hair-lined flanges.
Then John plowed forward once more, sinking his rod all the way
into Iris's upraised cunt.
"Hhhhnnnn," Iris moaned as the hardened head of her husband's prick
slammed against her cervix, now exposed to assault from the
unnaturalness of this new position.
Mesmerized, Carla watched as John surged forward again and again,
his hands digging into Iris's buttocks, holding her in a love-locked
vise.
Carla ran her tongue over her lips. Suddenly, her mouth was dry,
and she felt hot and clammy all over. There was a curious burning
sensation between her legs and she clamped her thighs together in an
effort to quench it. Beads of perspiration broke out on her upper lip,
and she felt dizzy. But she couldn't bear not to watch the lewd sight
-- she had to see everything. Her eyes still glued to the frantically
fucking inside, she began to sway slightly in time to their furious
rocking. Of its own accord, her hand flew to her small budding breasts,
as yet unconfined by a bra, and gently began to massage the tiny
nipples, which were beginning to involuntarily throb and ache. With a
slow circular movement, she moved her palm over her awakening buds,
bringing a little relief to her trembling body.
But her relief was short-lived. Yielding to the ache in her
breasts had only served to increase the fire that was now suddenly
burning like wildfire down between her legs. Frantically, she dropped
her hand to her pubic mound, and pressed it against the quivering flesh.
She knew she should go now -- that the scene inside was too much
for her. But try as she would, she could not convince herself to leave
the sight of the couple hungrily fucking inside. The fire raging
between her legs was all-consuming. Casting a quick look around, she
was relieved to see no one in sight.
Hastily, she dropped her hand and raised the hem of her short
summer shift. Inch by inch, her hand crept up to the passion, moistened
point of her desire. She slipped a finger inside the leg of her
panties, and then gasped with relief as it made contact with the already
moist flesh. Tentatively, she probed through the sparse, baby-fine
hair, and stroked the outer lips gently. She stroked in time to the
rhythm of the bucking bodies in the bedroom, and her eyes never left
their wildly writhing figures. But she knew that what she was doing
would never be enough. She would have to go further -- she had to do
something to control the burning searing fire raging out of control deep
in her white young belly.
Sometimes, at night, or in the bath, she had played experimentally
with her genitals, not really sure of what she was doing, and once or
twice, she had touched the electric button of her clitoris. But always,
fear of discovery and fear of what would happen had prevented her from
going any further. Now, she knew that she wanted to go further -- she
had to have the relief that additional probing would bring.
Carla's breath was coming in short gasps as she searched in the
warm hidden folds of her virginal cunt. With a tiny moan, she found the
throbbing hardened tip of her clitoris, and began to stroke the erotic
button. Shivers of ecstasy raced through her as she caressed the tiny
fleece hidden bud. Her eyes dimmed and she could only make out the blur
of Iris and John as they jerked against each other. Through the mist of
her eyes, she could see Iris thrust her pelvis up, arching her back and
raising both their bodies up off the bed. Every muscle and cord was
tensed in her supple body as she rose to meet John's insurge. John was
perspiring freely now and his breathing became a series of heavy pants.
A warm flush enveloped Carla's young body as she stroked her
awakened clitoris in time to John's rhythmic sawing, and her other hand
freely manipulated her breasts through the material of her dress.
Rivulets of perspiration ran down her inner thighs, and she felt damp
patches on her miniskirt. She could barely control the countless mewls
which were escaping from her throat. Suddenly, angered by the impeding
material of her dress, she bunched it up around her waist, and
reluctantly removing her hand from her aching breasts, held it there.
Impatiently, she eased the wet panties down over her slender hips, until
they fell to just above her knees. All caution left her -- nothing
mattered but the fiery tingling deep in her young loins.
Tentatively, she tested the tight resisting ring of her cunt with
her middle finger. The tender flesh felt moist and elastic under her
touch and she pushed gently at the unwilling entrance. She winced from
the pain as she probed the fleshy petallike opening, and slowly, she
insinuated the tip inside the warm, wet little hole.
Chills and shivers ran up and down her back like icy fingers,
raising goose bumps all over her, which created a tingle over her entire
body, and contrasted almost painfully with the warmth of her skin.
The cries from the bedroom were now more strangled and more intense
and suddenly, Carla could stand it no longer! With a deep-throated
grunt, she rammed her entire finger up into the virginal orifice between
her legs. Gasping from the novel contact, she rotated her finger harder
up inside the steaming sheath. She felt the warm walls of her pussy
close in on her finger and sighed as her rummaging sent new spasms of
joy shooting through her. Then, she inserted another finger, and then
another, until all three were stretching around in her secret depths.
The fire was quenched at last, but a new, more searing sensation took
its place -- growing hunger reared up and threatened to overpower her.
Desperately, she finger fucked herself and tears of frustration came to
her eyes as she realized that they were not enough -- she needed more
inside her. Greedily, she stared at the huge fleshy pole which was
tearing into Iris's cunt, and anger welled up in her. She wanted that
cock inside her, that's why the ache would not go away; she wished, oh,
how she wished that it was she who was twisting and flailing nakedly
wider the man's rod!
Closing her eyes, Carla tried to imagine what it would be like to
have him fucking her -- to feel his weight rocking above her. But all
she could feel was the inadequacy of her own fingers, and she moaned
softly outside their bedroom window. She could feel the waves of heat
gathering momentum inside her. She was out of control now. She didn't
know what was happening and she didn't care. She opened her eyes again,
and fastened them once more on the monster cock plowing into Iris. She
saw her cunt cling hungrily to its width as it withdrew, the delicate
pink hair-fringed edges pulling out with it, unwilling to let it go,
even for a moment.
Again, she closed her eyes, thinking only of John's engorged cock,
sawing in and out, his balls pounding against her anus, his fingers
digging into the flesh of her buttocks, her arms locked around his neck,
her legs hanging over his shoulders, her naked vagina, upraised and
defenseless before his ceaseless surging ...
"Aaaaaaggggghhhhh! Oh, God, I'm ccuummiiinnnggg!"
Carla's eyes flew open. The unearthly shriek had come from the
bedroom. She saw Iris bucking and jerking like a wild woman, her head
flailing from side to side, her mouth wide open, her eyes rolling.
Another groan pierced the twilight stillness -- this time a low, male
groan and then she saw John lurching uncontrollably into Iris as spasm
after spasm overtook him, his testicles jerking as they pumped their
hot, scalding sperm deep up into her belly.
Something was happening to her, too. The heat was a furnace now
and cloud after cloud of it swept through her. Her hips were jerking
strangely, and she felt as if she were drifting ... her head spun
around, and involuntarily her fingers dug deeper and deeper into her.
And then the head cloud burst, raining sparks on her. She heard a
mewling -- was it herself? -- and she felt a warm wetness on her fingers
and running down her inner thighs. It felt so good -- she wanted this
new feeling to go on forever. Finally, it stopped, and a strange peace
took over. Her body still quivered and she opened her eyes. It was
quite dark now -- as if it had turned dark suddenly when her eyes were
closed. She looked into the room. John was lying over Iris, whose legs
were still spread. They seemed to be asleep. Carla could see a thin
stream of sticky white liquid seeping out from between Mrs. Harrault's
legs, and there was a look of utter tranquility on her face.
Carla smoothed down her dress and pulled up her panties. Hardly
daring to breathe, she crept back towards the dormitory building. She
felt different -- more knowledgeable, more grownup. She knew she would
never be the same again, but she didn't care.
Maybe camp won't be so bad this year after all, she smiled to
herself as she let herself quietly into the dormitory.
Chapter 2
It was a scorching hot day and Endwood Camp was still. It was
Saturday -- the "Do Your Own Thing" day at the camp. The girls were all
in the nearby village, with the exception of Carla, who was swimming.
The camp was dedicated to providing as free an environment as
possible, and the girls' days were virtually unstructured. Of course,
riding instruction was available from Iris, who was an excellent
horsewoman, and swimming was taught by John, who had been a college 100-
meter champion.
A woman from the village came every day to cook and clean, and she
left every evening at six. There was a good library in the lounge, plus
television and records. Occasionally, Iris or John organized nature
walks, which were popular, or they all played tennis or handball on the
lawn. But the favorite pastimes were swimming and riding.
There were six permanent horses at the camp -- all mares, all part
Arabian. There was one other horse, Conquest, a stallion, which
belonged to Iris, and no one else ever rode him. He was completely
Arabian, and only stood fifteen hands. But he was the joy of Iris's
life, and this morning, she happily lead him in from the pasture. John
didn't want to ride with her, so she decided not to saddle Conquest.
She put on a simple snaffle bridle, and set off towards the woods.
It was much cooler in the shade, and Conquest trotted briskly
along, interested, as usual, in everything. Iris wore only her
swimsuit, a blue two-piece, and was glad she did, because even in the
forest it was still warm.
A sense of well-being pervaded her -- she always felt that way
after a night of lovemaking with John. She thought it was worth it,
sometimes, to be without John for a week. Homecoming was so good!
Iris breathed in the cool redolent air of the forest. Everywhere,
life was bursting out. Birds sang in the treetops and flew back and
forth. Chipmunks chattered on the ground, scurrying for nuts. The
edges of the bridle path were dotted with clumps of daisies and
milkweed, and Iris could see here and there the brilliant blue of early
gentians nestling among their leaves. Deep in the forest as far as the
eye could see, the peach-colored leaves of the swamp roses brightened
the many shades of green.
She patted Conquest's gray neck as they trotted along, and he,
sensing her increasing relaxation, slowed to a walk. She smiled to
herself when she remembered how John had objected at first to her
keeping a stallion. He was afraid she couldn't handle him, and wanted
her to have him gelded, but she couldn't bear the thought. She knew
that he wasn't good enough for a stud, but somehow, keeping him whole
made all the difference to her.
A familiar feeling of warmth and peace stole over her. The
rhythmic motion of the horse lulled her into a hazy fog, and she shifted
slightly and pressed her crotch further down onto the horse's bony back.
Smiling to herself, she reached back and unbuttoned her swimsuit
top. Her firm breasts leapt happily into the cool air, and the nipples
hardened immediately. Resting the reins on Conquest's neck, she fondled
her breasts, aware of their tanned beauty. She lay forward, stretching
her body along the animal's neck. Her breasts hung down, one on either
side of his neck, and his wiry mane tickled the valley between the full,
down-hanging orbs. Conquest walked very slowly now, and whickered
softly as he felt their feathery warmness brush against his furry skin.
Iris raised her hands and pressed each breast in towards the smooth gray
sides of his long neck.
"Mmmmmmm," she sighed, his slow jaunting motion stroking her
breasts tantalizingly. She flexed her pubis and the horse's dorsal bone
made delicious contact with her clitoris through the fabric of her
swimsuit. A tremor ran through her, from head to toe, and she murmured
softly:
"Good boy, Conquest, good boy ..."
Her eyes still closed, and her mind in a sensuous daze, rider and
horse drifted aimlessly through the woods.
* * *
John was busy with the accounts. He would liked to have gone
riding with Iris, although he couldn't stand the way she was always
talking to and petting her horse, as if he were human. But the nagging
thought of all the paperwork he had to do weighed heavily on him and he
knew he wouldn't enjoy the ride, no matter what the circumstances. He
was dressed only in loose-fitting Bermudas, and sipping a can of beer,
he settled down to his task. He knew that everybody was away, so he had
hopes of getting all his work done before dinner.
He was deeply engrossed in debits and credits when he heard a
slight knock on the door. Without looking up, he said: "Come in!"
He went on calculating, and completely forgot to look up, until he
heard a sultry voice say:
"Boy, you sure look busy!"
He glanced up and saw the young girl, Carla.
"Hello Carla!" he said cheerfully, smiling at her. "Yep, I'm busy
all right, trying to make ends meet!"
"Am I interrupting? I can come back another time ..."
"No, not at all!" he answered, closing the accounts book.
Carla was wearing only a bikini coral-colored crocheted one, which
barely covered her nipples and pubis before turning into open-work
lattice.
He couldn't help noticing how the bright color contrasted with her
long dark hair, which hung over her shoulders, and her tawny young skin.
She gazed at him with clear blue eyes, and her lower lip was stuck
out in a small pout.
His eye wandered over her lithe fourteen-year-old body -- she was
tall, but very slender, her breasts barely there, but with the promise
of full voluptuous womanhood. Her hips were softly rounded and her legs
were long and coltish. She looked like a young Aphrodite and John felt
a faint, uncontrolled stirring in his loins as he looked at the lovely
girl.
"Can I help you, Carla?" he asked softly, averting his eyes.
"I think perhaps you can!" she answered.
He waited for her to continue, thinking she had some problem she
wanted to talk about.
"Well," he said finally, "what is it?"
"Can I sit down?" she asked, still staring boldly at him.
"Sure," he said, clearing the remaining chair.
To his surprise, she pulled the chair up beside him, instead of
leaving it where it was, across the desk.
Another silence, and then Carla crossed her legs. This action
stretched the brief bikini bottom even more and John could see the flesh
of her buttocks and hips bulging slightly through the holes of the
lattice-work on the sides.
"May I have a cigarette?" Carla asked.
John gasped. He couldn't refuse her one, not when the policy of
the camp was "natural growth" but he couldn't really condone a fourteen-
year-old smoking. Still, not knowing what else to do, he offered one of
his menthol cigarettes.
She waited for him to light it, and as he reached over with the
flaming match, she touched his hand lightly and guided it to her
cigarette. A shiver coursed through him at her touch. The hand holding
the match began to tremble and he was afraid she would see it. But she
didn't seem to notice and thankfully, he extinguished the match.
She was still staring at him, and casually blew the smoke from her
first inhalation into his face. John was on edge now; he didn't know
what to do. What's the matter with me, anyhow? he thought, getting
nervous around a mere child!
Finally, John said again:
"What's bothering you, Carla?"
"I don't know the facts of life!" she answered slowly, her voice
barely above a whisper.
John blushed beet red. Oh God, he thought, why am I behaving like
a teen-ager?
Trying to regain his cool, he said:
"Don't you think you'd better talk to Iris about that?"
He tried to sound authoritative and fatherly, but he knew he was
acting more like a kid brother.
"I thought you'd be able to explain them better!" she said coolly,
leaning forward to flick ash into the ashtray.
Immediately, John's eyes dropped to her breasts, and he could see
their faint swell as she brushed past him.
Her arm grazed his naked chest, and sent ripples of delight
surfacing on his skin. His eyes were fixed on her breasts, and he tried
to see more of them through the crochet.
"What are you staring at, Mr. Harrault?" Carla asked, a mocking
note in her voice.
"Nothing!" he answered quickly. "I was just thinking. About how
to start, I mean."
He raised his eyes with an effort, to look at her face.
"Would you like to see them?" Carla asked, raising her hands behind
her back, as if to open her bikini top.
"Good God no!" John said, laying a hand on her shoulder.
Just then, Iris walked in. She was still wearing her swimsuit, and
she was running her hand through her tousled hair. She stopped short
when she saw John, his hand on Carla's shoulder.
"Excuse me!" Carla said, suddenly rising. "I'll talk to you later
about my problem!"
Without another word, she left.
"Wowee!" John said, when she'd left. "What a cookie!"
"What kind of problem can she possibly have?" Iris asked icily.
"Can you imagine? That brat wants me to tell her the facts of
life!" John said, laughing.
"Tell her? Show her is more like it!" Iris spat, her eyes
flashing.
"What's wrong with you anyway?" John said, noticing her anger.
"When will you learn to keep your hands off the girls?" she hissed.
"For Christ's sake, Iris, will you come off it? I'm sick and tired
of you imagining things. You should be glad the girls come to me with
their problems! After all, I'm supposed to be the counselor!"
John was really angry now. This wasn't the first time his wife had
become angry and jealous over the boarders, and he was sick of it. As
if he'd touch one of them -- they were his bread and butter -- he'd be a
fool to mess around with them. Minors, too.
"What facts of life did you tell her? Did you give her a
demonstration?" Iris taunted, her fare twisted with bitterness. "No
wonder you didn't want to come for a ride!"
"Damn it!" John snarled, "I've had enough of your childishness!"
He got up and slammed the door, and locked it.
Then he turned around to face Iris.
She stood there, hands on hips, an angry, mocking look on her face.
John reached out and grabbed her by the waist. Angrily, she tried
to yank her hand back but he held her tightly. Pulling her over to the
chair behind the desk, he dragged it to the center of the room, and then
sat down.
"W-what are you going to do?" Iris asked, frightened.
"I'm going to give you what you deserve!" he said, pulling her down
over his lap.
"No, no, stop it! Stop it!" Iris cried, struggling desperately.
John turned her over, until she was lying across his knees, face
down. Her legs were kicking and her hands were doubled into fists and
she was pounding in mid-air, trying to strike him.
Holding heir firmly by the waist, he slowly inched her swimming
suit bottom down until it was halfway down her thighs.
The golden moons of her soft, well-rounded buttocks stared up at
him. He noticed that they were almost as brown as the rest of her, and
he could see them quivering, as if in terror of what was to come.
"Oh, please, John, I'm sorry," she sobbed. "Don't do anything to
me!"
But John didn't answer.
Whoooosssshhhh! His hand made a whirring sound as it sliced
through the air and landed with a resounding smack on her bare buttocks.
"Owowowowowowowwooww!" she sobbed, wincing from the sharp tingling
pain. She began to struggle again, and almost succeeded in toppling
them both over on the floor, but John caught her just in time.
Her buttocks retained the whitish imprint of his hand, and then it
turned to red, before it faded away.
He slammed his palm down on her again, harder this time, and again
Iris cried out. Tears were streaming down her face, and she was
babbling incoherently, all the while struggling like a fish out of
water.
John began to rain slaps faster on her now, until her buttock-
cheeks turned a red color without change. Each slap sent her loins
pressing down into his lap, desperately trying to escape the harsh
stinging pain.
"Oh, please stop, John, please stop! I won't be jealous anymore, I
promise!" Iris sobbed.
But John went on unheedingly. He seemed mesmerized by the up and
down movement of his own hand, and with a fixed grin, sadistic and
cruel, was pasted obscenely on his face.
An unaccustomed new feeling was taking hold of him. A strange,
almost eerie sensation, that made it impossible for him to stop his
punishing task. The slap-slap sound of his hand against his wife's bare
backside, her cries and pleas for mercy, the pounding of her loins into
his crotch, all sparked an unnatural flame deep within him. He felt his
cock lurch, springing into semierection. Each hard, cruel stroke of his
hand sent his member jerking into greater size, until it was pushing
painfully against his Bermuda shorts.
Iris's voice was now a steady whine, interspersed with almost
unintelligible pleas for mercy. But John was untouched by her anguish.
Hypnotically, he slashed on and on with his hand, until he began to
feel a dull ache in his palm, but still he could not stop. There was a
connection between the rising and falling of his hand and the churning
that was increasing in intensity in his balls. His cock was rock-hard
and throbbing and jerking as Iris's naked crotch pushed down on it,
trying to avoid the blows from above.
Perspiration was pouring down John's face, and his chest was
heaving. His knees and thighs felt numb and sore from the weight of his
wife's body. His upper arm began to ache and felt as heavy as a
sledgehammer, but still, as if guided by an unknown demoniac power, it
kept rising and descending. His eyes were closed now, and nothing
mattered to him, but the great swirls of heat that were building up in
his balls. He was like a man possessed -- his wife's pleas were drowned
out -- he heard nothing and saw nothing.
Iris was terrified. Try as she might, she could not escape her
husband's punishing hand. His other arm gripped her tightly and her
whole body ached from the strange position but mostly from the cruelty
he was inflicting on her buttocks. Every slap sent fresh pain shooting
up from her ass to her back, and worse still, she could feel his cock,
risen to tumescence digging into her lower stomach. It felt like
granite and she didn't know what he was going to do next. He was acting
like an automaton -- nothing seemed to penetrate his iron skin. Her
head was spinning and her eyes, long since dry of tears, began to water.
She felt she was going to faint, when suddenly, she felt her husband's
loins jerking upward.
John had tried to control it -- to fight it when he had found that
he was on the point of cumming. But he couldn't! The floodgates were
open, and his pelvis was grinding upwards, uncontrollably. He
mesmerically continued the spanking, buffeting Iris unmercifully between
his downward hand and his upward loins. His back arched and his hips
thrust forward in a mighty surge -- and he was there!!!
A bearlike snarl erupted from his throat as he spewed his hot white
liquid out of his trapped cock. It gushed out, staining his Bermudas,
and trickled down his leg. Finally, when he had spurted out his last
drop of semen, the mechanical spanking ceased. His head sunk down onto
his chest and his mouth hung slightly open.
Iris fell off his knees and onto the floor. Her face was crimson
-- she had never been so humiliated in all her life. There were traces
of her husband's cum on her stomach where it had soaked through his
Bermudas, and her buttocks were red and throbbing. She felt as if every
bone in her body was broken, and she sobbed -- harsh dry sobs that
wracked her whole body.
Slowly, painfully, she raised herself up and using the chair John
was still sitting on, hoisted herself up. Without even retrieving the
bottom of her swimsuit, which had fallen from her flailing legs, she
limped out of the office and into the hall that led to their bedroom.
* * *
Carla and Nancy ran until they were halfway between the lake and
the main house. Finally, they stopped, their hearts thumping, and their
faces red from exertion. They sat down under a tree, glad of the shade.
After she had her breath, Carla broke the silence.
"Well, what did you think of it?"
"It ... it frightened me!" Nancy confessed timidly. Her golden
hair fanned out like a shining veil and framed her small, pale face,
making her look like a cherub. Her large gray eyes were opened wide,
and she looked like a scared rabbit.
"Fraidy cat!" Carla taunted. "What's there to be frightened of?"
"We shouldn't have been watching! Suppose he'd looked up and seen
us?"
"He wouldn't have noticed us if he'd been staring right at us! He
was way out of it!" Carla said triumphantly.
"Why did he do that to her?" Nancy asked, wonderingly.
"I guess she musta deserved it!" Carla drawled.
"I bet it hurt ... I feel sorry for her ..." Nancy said timidly.
"Well, don't," Carla said. "At least she gets his thing in her
every night! Did you see the look on his face when he came?"
"Y-yes ..." was the whispered reply.
"I'd sure like to see his thing again!" Carla mused.
"What? Have -- have you seen it? When?" Nancy asked
disbelievingly.
"Sure! He showed it to me!" Carla answered.
"I bet he didn't! You're making that up!"
"Like hell I am! I can describe it for you. It's about this
long," she gestured, measuring an exaggerated distance, "and when it's
big, it's all red and ..."
"Stop it!" Nancy said, her face scarlet. "I don't want to hear any
more!"
"Oh, all right, you're just a baby anyway! You're too young!"
"I'm not, I'm not!" Nancy said indignantly, "I'll be fourteen in
October!"
"That's too young!" Carla said jeeringly, walking on ahead.
"Oh, please, tell me about it again!" Nancy begged, catching up
with her. "How big is it? Please tell me ..."
Chapter 3
"Ssshhhhh ... don't make a sound!"
The two figures crept stealthily along the gravel path towards the
main house. It was a cloudless night, but the moon was a mere crescent,
so the shadowy figures were not immediately discernible to anyone
looking out into the night.
They approached the wall of the house, and then skulked along until
they came to the back window of the bedroom. There was a light on, and
they tiptoed right up against the screen.
Carla could see clearly by straightening her hunched figure, but
Nancy had to stand on tiptoe and crane her neck.
Iris had her back to the window. She was hanging her shift up in
the closet, and John was sitting on the side of the bed, still in his
Bermudas, but with a sportshirt. He was looking across at her.
"I'm sorry, honey! I don't know what came over me!" he said.
"Let's make up!"
"No sir!" was the hard reply. "You've had your fun with me!" She
turned to look at him, and Carla drew in her breath. Iris's normally
soft pretty features were cold, giving her a look of callousness, which
in turn made her look like an ugly harridan.
She was wearing a bra and panties, and with her back turned to her
husband, she slipped off her bra and put on a cotton nightdress over her
head. Then she removed her panties.
Without another word, she walked over to the bedside lamp and
turned it off.
The room was plunged in darkness, and the girls heard John sigh
loudly. The sound of the bedsprings creaking was followed by footsteps
and the slamming of the door.
"Quick," Carla whispered, "he must be in the bathroom!"
Hastily, they slipped around the other side of the house, and Carla
gave Nancy's hand a squeeze when they saw that the bathroom light was
on.
Sneaking up to the window, they were grateful that the ground had
risen in that area and they could see clearly into the bathroom.
John was looking at his face in the mirror over the washhand basin.
He peered intently at the reflection of his eyes, and examined his chin
and cheeks minutely.
"Christ," he said suddenly, "now what am I going to do?"
With a deep sigh, he began to peel off the sportshirt he had on.
His muscles flexed as he pulled it off over his head, and Carla and
Nancy were able to see his biceps rippling as he raised his arms. They
noticed the long straight dark hair under his arms, and the profuse
hairiness of his chest.
"I've seen his chest already!" Carla whispered impatiently, "I want
to see the rest of him again!"
As if in answer to her demand, John began to ease off his shorts.
They slipped down to his legs, and he stepped out of them. His penis
lay flaccid, nestled against his dormant balls, and looked like a
harmless little worm. The dark pubic curls sprouted out around it,
framing the sleeping flesh.
"I thought you said it was big!" Nancy whispered.
"It is, wait until you see it!"
John surveyed himself in the full-length mirror which was on the
back of the door.
Carla and Nancy had an excellent side view of him, and they pinched
each other as they peeped in the window, barely able to suppress their
giggles.
John ran his hands up and down his sides. His stomach protruded
slightly, but his buttocks were firm, and all in all, he was in fine
shape for a man of thirty-five. His chest was muscular, and as he stood
with legs slightly apart, he looked taller than his five foot eleven.
To their amazement, they saw him take his deflated penis in his
right hand, and tug playfully on it!
They gasped as they saw him roll the protracted organ in his palms,
and Nancy blinked her eyes in disbelief as she saw the member increase
in size before her very eyes!
They nudged each other as they saw him cup his balls in his left
hand, and weigh them gently in his palm. They could see the wrinkly
skin squirm and contract fin his hand, as he pulled gently on them, and
then began a soft pumping movement.
"Wh-what's he doing?" Nancy whispered, her eyes round like saucers.
"I don't know -- maybe he'd going to jack off!"
"What does that mean?" Nancy asked.
"If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you!" Carla retorted, her
eyes still glued on the strange sight.
John now turned around and his back was facing them. They could
see from the mirror that he was still cupping his balls in his left hand
stroking and massaging his prick with the other. They saw him look over
his back and buttocks and to their amazement, he flexed his buttocks,
clenching and flaring the ass-cheeks rhythmically.
Carla felt hot all over. Little beads of perspiration broke out on
her upper lips, and her hands felt clammy. There was a moistness
growing down between her legs, and a tingle was beginning deep in her
stomach. Her breasts were beginning to throb and it was all she could
do to stop herself from ripping off her clothes and running into the
bathroom to John.
Nancy was mesmerized by the sight of the naked man. She had never
seen anything like it. Even the sight of John spanking his wife didn't
have this strange effect on her. She felt hot and cold all over, and
she felt as if her entire body was bathed in sweat. Tremor after tremor
shot through her and there was a strange gnawing in her breasts and
between her legs. What was happening? Tentatively, she raised her hand
and touched her small breasts with the palm of her hand.
"Mmmmm," she sighed, barely audibly, "it feels so good."
Closing her eyes, she drew the palm over the jutting points again
and again, murmuring from the delicious contact She raised her other
hand, and timidly touched the burning spot between her legs. She barely
brushed it with her hand, but the split-second touch caused the sparks
of fire to leap into a Pentecost of flaming tongues. Glancing over at
Carla, she was amazed to see that her hand was groping at her breasts,
and her eyes were still glued on the bathroom.
Raising her eyes, Nancy was just in time to see John step into the
shower. She suppressed a pang of disappointment as he drew the shower
curtain, shutting off the wonderful view of his manhood from their eager
eyes.
"Oh damn!" Carla murmured. "Why did he have to do that!"
They saw the water spray down over him, and they could see his
silhouette through the shower curtain. The shadow was distorted, and to
their feverish eyes, his prick was twice as long, and jutted out like a
bayonet held aloft.
John soaped himself thoroughly. He was trying to wash away his
desire, soap off the degradation the memory of this afternoon's vile
action made him feel. He wished he hadn't been so hasty. After all,
what was his wife to think, when she'd walked in and seen his hand on an
almost-naked girl's shoulder, and a damned pretty one at that! God!
She'd better not walk around like that too often, barely covered, and
asking about the facts of life! She didn't look or act as if she were
too ignorant of them either! Bitch! What was she up to, anyway?
Carla and Nancy watched as they saw his shadow soap his still erect
penis and rub it lovingly. Nancy stroked her tiny breasts in time to
his circular soaping, and Carla ran her tongue over her parched lips.
She had a cottony feeling in her mouth, and her whole body throbbed and
ached. She didn't know what to do. She was afraid to touch her pussy,
for fear she would cum on the spot -- her nerve endings were a quivering
mass of sensation, ready to ignite at the merest touch.
Her glance fell on Nancy, who was stroking her breasts, oblivious
to everything except the silhouette of the man in the shower, and Carla
was surprised to see her palm cupped down against her pubic mound.
Just then, John stepped out of the shower. The water dripped down,
running in little streams down his face. His hair was plastered down,
and Carla felt little shivers of excitement run through her as she drank
in the sight of his wet body. He began to dry himself, rubbing his body
briskly with the towel, and Carla stifled a cry of disappointment when
the large bath towel engulfed and covered almost his entire body. She
knew that soon the wonderful sight of his naked masculinity would be
denied her, and she wanted to prolong it forever. She wished it were
she who was in the bedroom, instead of Iris. The throbbing between her
legs intensified at the delicious thought and she pressed her inner
thighs closer together, to block out the warning ache.
Suddenly, the light went out. He was gone!
For a moment, Carla stood there. She saw that Nancy was still
gently stroking her breasts, and didn't even seem to notice that John
was no longer in view. She reached over and grabbed Nancy's wrist.
"What ..." Nancy began.
"Sssshhhh ... c'mere!" Carla hissed.
Protesting, Nancy stumbled over to where Carla stood.
With a rough gesture, Carla pulled Nancy's hand towards her dress
and began to force it up her dress.
Nancy, woken by force from her sensuous reverie, was seared.
Whatever Carla had in mind, she didn't want to do it.
"I want to go back to bed ..." Nancy began to whimper.
"Shut up!" Carla snapped.
"No! Stop, Carla, stop it!"
Carla's only answer was to jerk Nancy's wrist, which caused the
smaller girl to stumble. She almost fell, but held onto the redwood
wall of the house.
"No, I don't want to do it; it's wrong, Carla, don't make me do it
..." Nancy whined.
"I'll tell Iris if you don't ..." Carla said warningly.
Nancy blinked back her tears. "Tell her what?" she sniffed.
"I'll tell her about you, spying on her and John!"
"But-but you were too!" Nancy blubbered.
"I'll tell her you made me! She'll believe me ..."
In her distraught state of mind, Nancy was unable to think. All
she could think of was Carla telling Iris, and Iris sending her home,
with a letter telling her mother why she was returning before the end of
the season ...
It was too much.
"Oh, don't tell her ... I'll do it ... I'll do anything you want
..." Nancy sobbed, clutching at Carla.
Carla loosened her grip on Nancy's fragile wrist, and guided her
hand, more gently now, up her dress.
Nancy gasped when she felt the wetness of Carla's panties.
"Take my panties off!" Carla hissed.
"But Carla ..."
"No buts! I'll tell Iris ..."
Slowly, Nancy began to tug at the damp panties and inched them down
over Carla's hips. When they were halfway down to her knees, Carla once
more grabbed her friend's wrist and pushed her hand up towards her
heated young pussy.
"Oh, hurry, Nancy ..." Carla mumbled through clenched teeth. "I
can't stand it much longer ..."
Tentatively, she began to stroke the other girl's moist, desire-
quivering pussy, and probed slightly at the swollen fleece-lined folds.
"Aaaaaaahhhhhmmmmmmmmm," Carla sighed, as shiver after thrill
tingled through her.
Nancy felt the hardened, engorged button of Carla's clitoris and
jabbed her finger experimentally at it.
"Uhhhnnnhhhhh," Carla moaned, her hips beginning to jerk.
Nancy was afraid. All this was new to her. She knew that what
they were doing was wrong, and she hoped that Carla wouldn't make her do
it again.
"Ohhhh, Nancyyyyyyy," Carla moaned again, as she spasmodically
jerked against Nancy's probing finger.
To her surprise, Nancy felt a gush of warmness flowing down over
her fingers, and drew them back. Carla's mouth was open, and her eyes
were closed. Her head was thrown back and her hands were clutching
frenziedly at her breasts. Nancy gaped at her friend, and began to cry
softly.
"Carla, Carla ..." she whined.
Finally, Carla opened her eyes. She looked at Nancy, who was
whimpering, staring back at her with frightened eyes.
"Oh, Nancy, that was so good!" Carla said warmly.
"Good? Oh, Carla, I was so afraid ..."
"Why? You were great!"
"Oh, Carla, you won't tell on me, will you?"
"Of course not, Nancy," Carla answered. "You're my friend."
"You're my friend, too, Carla. My very best friend."
Hand in hand, the two girls slipped back to the dormitory.
Chapter 4
John and Iris had just finished breakfast, and it was another
silent meal. The warm sun filtered in through the kitchen window as
they sat drinking their coffee.
"Look, Iris," John said suddenly, "I'm sorry, I'm truly sorry! I
don't know what else to say or do, but we can't go on like this!"
"Maybe you can't, but I can," she said icily. She looked at him
with loathing, her eyes burning into his face, causing a flush of
embarrassment to rise. Her every look seemed to emanate disgust, and
John felt himself squirming under her cold stare.
"Oh, please honey ... it'll never happen again. I don't know what
came over me!"
"I'm not interested in your explanations, and that's that! Now,
excuse me," she said, getting up. "I'm going for a ride!"
Her iciness and cruelty really angered John.
"That's right!" he yelled, "Go for a ride. You'll probably get
that nag to fuck you!"
"If I did," she replied coolly, "he'd probably be a damn sight
better than you!"
"You fucking bitch ..." he shouted, starting after her. But the
door slammed in his face. Dejected, he slumped back in his chair, and
finished his coffee.
Four days had passed since the day he'd lost his temper and spanked
her -- four long, cold unbearable days. He didn't know what he was
going to do; he just knew he couldn't keep on like this.
He walked slowly out to the office, and wearily sat down in the
chair. His dispirited frame of mind had accomplished one thing, though
-- all the paperwork was up to date. But now he had nothing to do!
Christ, why did this have to happen to me, he thought glumly. What's
wrong with her anyway? Was what I did so horrible? She had it coming!
Making a big thing out of nothing, just like she always does. Well, who
needs her?
A knock on the door shook him out of his angry thoughts.
"Come in," he said wearily.
"I'd like some help with my backstroke, please, Mr. Harrault."
It was Carla.
This time, she was wearing a more modest yellow two-piece bathing
suit, and her dark hair was pulled back. She looked young and sweet and
innocent -- could this be the girl who was willing to strip for me a few
days ago? John thought as he glanced at her.
"Sure, Carla," he replied, "I'll go change and be right back."
Minutes later, he came out, wearing checked swimming trunks.
They walked silently out to the pasture. They caught two bay
mares, and decided not to bother saddling them. They set off at a trot,
and then cantered when they got to the shady woods.
John felt himself beginning to relax. A swim would be good after
all the days he had put in at the office and it was fun to be with
someone who would at least talk to a guy! They reached the lake, and
John dismounted.
"Oh, let's not swim here! The rest of the girls will be here soon,
and I don't want them to see how bad my backstroke is!"
John hesitated. They had a rule that all the girls were to swim in
this area, but, hell, he thought, what's the harm in going somewhere
else, especially since I'm with her. I can understand how she feels
about not wanting the others to see her.
"Okay Carla! Let's try further down the lake."
John mounted his mare again, and they set off, cantering through
the water.
When they had made almost a complete half-circle of the lake,
Carla, who was leading, stopped.
"Let's try here, Mr. Harrault. There's a waterfall!"
Sure enough, a small waterfall cascaded over some rocks. The area
was shaded by pine trees, and the opposite shore of the lake was not
visible from the little grove where they dismounted. Tying the horses
to a tree in the shade, they walked down to the water's edge.
John was beginning to feel really good. The ride in the fresh air
had revived him, and now he welcomed the solitude of the spot they had
chosen.
Running on ahead, he splashed around in the cool water and turning
to Carla, called: "C'mon, last one in's a ..."
He gasped. He couldn't believe it! Were his eyes playing tricks
on him? He blinked them, but it was still the same. She had taken off
the top of her swimming suit!
His mouth hung open. He tried to speak, but no words would come
out. His eyes were fixated on her firm young breasts, sweeping up
proudly, the nipples still dormant in their brownish-pink beds.
"Carla!" he finally managed to say, "what do you think you're
doing?"
"I'm going for a swim, silly!" she teased.
"Put your top back on!" he ordered, sounding as gruff as he could.
"Oh, John," she pouted, "don't be a spoilsport! It feels wonderful
to swim with my breasts free!"
"Oh, all right," he said reluctantly noticing her use of his first
name. Turning, he dove into the clear water, a precise shallow dive,
and surfaced many yards beyond the shore.
Looking around, he saw that Carla was swimming out to him, using a
very practiced overarm stroke. When she finally reached him, he said:
"Okay water baby, now let's see how bad your backstroke really is!"
Her reply was to press firmly on his unsuspecting head, sending him
sputtering underwater. Skillfully regaining his breath, he swam
silently and then suddenly pulled at her dangling legs, yanking the
shrieking young girl under water with him. Her arms thrashed wildly as
he pulled her, and he could see the hardened points of her breasts
protruding from the firm water-buoyed young orbs. Her mouth was open,
sending clouds of bubbles to the surface, and her long hair had loosened
itself from the confining band and now billowed sensuously around her
head. Finally, he released her madly kicking legs, and they rose to the
top together.
Gasping, Carla said: "You jerk! What a lousy trick!"
"You started it!" John laughed back.
Then he froze. He had felt a hand brush against his groin, so
fleeting a touch that he was unsure of whether he had really felt it.
Carla's dripping face revealed nothing, and she continued to mildly
berate him.
No, he thought, I must have imagined it! The sight of her young
underdeveloped naked breasts, bobbing in the water, was affecting his
brain!
"Race you back to the shore!" Carla said, suddenly.
"But what about your backstroke?"
"We can get to that later!" she called, already flashing by him,
swimming madly.
Shrugging, he followed her, uninterested in racing her, his
thoughts still wandering over that phantom touch. Whatever it was, he
mused, it sure put some life into me! He could feel the first tendrils
of life beginning to grow in his prick, and a dull ache, barely
noticeable, was starting in his balls.
Swimming idly, John noticed that Carla had already reached the
shore, and was walking up onto the beach, the water still at her hips,
reminding him of the pictures he had seen of Venus rising from the sea!
Quickening his pace, he finally touched bottom, and began to wade the
last few feet to the beach. He could see Carla, lying sunbathing a few
yards in, and he made his way over to where she lay.
"Boy, are you lazy ..." he started to call, when his voice caught
in his throat. Was he seeing things? It looked -- it looked as if she
were completely naked! Walking a few steps, a clearer view of her did
not contradict his initial thought. With a strangled gasp, he saw that
she had removed the bottom of her swimming suit, and was lying
completely nude, soaking up the sun.
His feet felt rooted to the ground. He tried to call out, to warn
her that he was within distance, but his voice died in his throat, and
he could only gaze at the incredible lust-inciting sight before him.
Her arms were flat out on either side of her, and her tanned skin was
already dry from the hot rays of the sun. Her legs were slightly apart,
and the dark shadow of her sparse young pubic triangle glistened
invitingly in the sun. Her eyes were closed, and her dark hair fanned
out, rapidly drying.
"Hi John ..." he couldn't believe the throaty voice. She had
opened her eyes and was staring at him.
"Why don't you sunbathe here beside me ... it's a perfect spot!"
she continued languidly.
His legs led him over to her of their own volition, and he found
himself standing directly over her. Was it his imagination or did her
breasts heave a little more rapidly? He ran his eyes over her slender
body, feasting on the enticing sight. His hands, guided by some
primordial instinct, began rolling down his swimming trunks, over his
hips, and when they fell to his feet, he absently kicked them aside.
Carla's eyes immediately darted to his cock, which was rising to
tumescence rapidly, spurred on by the loveliness of her tempting body.
His brain had ceased to function, and he had become a mindless
animal, acting purely by instinct, guided by primeval urges alone.
Falling to his knees, he stretched out a hand, and tentatively laid
it on a bronzed shoulder.
Suddenly, his head was buried between the glimmering cones of her
breasts, and he was whispering.
"Carla ... oh, Carla ..."
His cock fell on to her taut, smooth young stomach and immediately
jerked against the smoothness of her abdominal plane. He felt a tremor
run through her and he grasped her by the shoulders. Looking into her
eyes, he read acquiescence there, and even more prominent, desire.
Slowly, he lowered his lips on hers. An electrifying chill shook
him as his mouth touched hers. The soft pliant lusciousness of her lips
awoke new sensations in his own, and he eagerly ground them down on the
willing young mouth. Gently, he pressed his tongue against her teeth,
firm in their custodianship of her mouth, until he finally felt them
give and he slipped his probing organ inside. Immediately, tip touched
tip, and he felt her tongue timidly respond to the advances of his.
Then they entwined, slipping and darting together in play, and he began
to jab deeper and deeper into her throat. Her mouth felt like velvet,
and her tongue was gaining in expertise as it probed and prodded
experimentally.
Her arms crept up around his neck, and drew his head tighter down
on her. His hands were gripping her shoulders, and unconsciously, he
dug his fingers into the naked flesh, opening and closing his grip
automatically. He could feel the vibrations of the first mewls of
pleasure beginning in her throat, and nothing mattered to him now but
the feel of this hot young body beneath him. One hand began to caress
her hair, already matted with the pine needles which formed their bed,
and their pungent odor mingled with the freshwater smell which was
clinging to her hair.
Slowly, he lowered his lips and began to tenderly kiss her doelike
neck, trailing down to her throat and her shoulders. He could feel a
gentle undulation begin in her body, and her flesh cried out in desire,
every nerve-ending sending a message to his own lust-aroused senses. He
closed his lips over one of the ruby nipples, and he began to pull on
it, rolling the tip between his lips, and gently pressing his lower
teeth into the crinkled outer skin. The nipple rose to an even greater
length, like a root reaching for water, it reached out for further
caresses. He gently kissed the other rosy young bud, tweaking and
teasing it, until its length corresponded with its greatly erected twin.
His lips wandered over the finely grained periphery of her
burnished body, tracing a moist shower of kisses which the love-parched
skin seemed to soak up instantly.
Carla's hands were grasping his shoulders now, and her long nails
dug unmercifully into his skin, leaving reddening nail imprints on the
unprotected flesh. Her mouth was open, and her red lips were framing
words which he never thought he would hear from a young girl.
"Oh, John, do it to me please ... oh, please kiss me all over ...
John ..."
Tenderly, he stroked the firm curves of her hips, and ran the tip
of his tongue over her flat youthful stomach. His hands dropped to her
smooth inner thighs, and played there, caressing the sensitive flesh
with his fingertips, awakening each erogenous area in turn.
Almost reverently, he kissed the sparse young curls of her raised
pubic mound, and breathed in the faint female odor of her which was
beginning to rise from the moist awakening entrance down between her
squirming legs.
His fingers played along the inside of her thighs, and gently he
eased them further apart. He could see a faint sheen of moisture there,
as he pressed aside the soft fleshy portals of her tight little vaginal
mouth.
He could see the faint pink of her slit, lying under the dark
immature fleece like a half-open magnolia. The tiny tip of her clitoris
was barely discernible, peeping out like a vermilion needlepoint through
the teasing fuzz of her outer cunt lips.
The trembling young girl began to whimper, and her hands, no longer
able to reach John's shoulders, began to feverishly dig into the pine
needle carpet, and futilely squeeze whole clumps of them as if trying to
awaken some life, elicit some response from the inanimate objects.
John looked up, afraid instantly at the sound of her whimpering.
Was she sorry? Did she want to stop? Had she come to her senses?
"Oh, Mr. Harrault," she moaned, "Please, please don't stop ...
please ..."
Her answer came immediately, and John, hesitating no longer, pushed
her knees up until the whole expanse of her virginal young pussy was
visible to his hungry view.
The thinly-haired outer lips were throbbing faintly and increasing
in size, almost before his eyes, as they became blood-laden with desire.
He could see the tattered edges of her tiny inner lips, guarding the
pink pulsating point of her clitoris. Her already-moist cuntal opening,
ragged and clustered like a delicate rose, lay beneath the sensuous
pivot, and below that, John could see the faint brown ring of her tight
little anus. His breathing was becoming more jagged now as he surveyed
the bewitching panorama before him. He ran the tip of his wet red
tongue over his lips, by now parched from the combination of the sun and
the mounting heat of his own still rising desire.
Then slowly, surely, he lowered his head between her tanned upright
legs, and reaching out with his long saliva-moistened tongue, gently
flicked at the narrow slit before him.
Carla jerked back from the strange new sensation of a living tongue
licking between her legs, and ground her hips into the green spongy
surface in a vain attempt to escape the incredible sensation. But
John's tongue flicked out again, and darted over the entire length of
her pink throbbing cunt.
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" she cried, her hips jumping from side to side. But
John grasped her firmly just below the waist, and held her fast. Then
once again, his tongue darted out and began to probe at the hidden folds
of her tender young cunt. It prodded under the swollen outer lips, and
his mouth pulled gently at the purplish inner lips. He searched the
secret recesses of her cunt, and finally came to rest on the pulsating
head of her clitoris. He took the tiny button between his lips and
imprisoning it there, began to tease it with the tip of his tongue.
Carla writhed from the novel contact, and John could feel the head
growing beneath his tonguing. He nipped gently at it, and then began to
peck in a series of small birdlike bites.
"Ooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh," Carla sighed, her moans taking on a new more
urgent sound now. He raised his eyes, and could see a faint blush of
red spreading over her face. Her eyes were closed, and she was biting
her lower lip.
She lowered her hands and groping, felt the wiry hairs of his head.
She sunk her hands in the dark strands, and began to pull at them,
trying to seek release from the tantalizing pecking at her tiny
sensitive vaginal opening.
John's tongue slavered on, licking and sucking at her palpitating
cunt. The tongue dabbed at her viscous cuntal opening, trying to force
an entry, and eliciting gasps of pain-pleasure from Carla. With a
surge, John finally managed to insert just the tip of his frenzied
tongue into the tight membrane of her tight virginal cunt. The tongue
wriggled and squirmed inside her, trying to force itself further into
the warm pulsating little hole.
"Oh, Mr. Harrault-t-t-t ..." Carla moaned, and ground her pelvis up
to receive his thrusting tongue. Frantically, he buried his tongue
deeper and deeper into her tight fleshy sheath, which began to close in
around his plundering organ. He spread apart the furry flanges of her
cunt to allow himself greater access to her succulent pussy. His nose
and mouth were buried in her warmth, and he could feel his own hot
breath returning in clouds from the expanded tunnel to heat his face.
Carla was in the throes of a spine-trembling delight. She had
never known anything like it. She had wanted Mr. Harrault; plotted and
schemed to engineer this outing, and guided him intentionally to this
solitude. Even as she had done so, she had no idea it would be like
this -- she couldn't believe that his tongue could arouse this primitive
joy in her. Passion rushed through her from the tips of her toes to the
top of her skull. His darting tongue sent electric shocks of
excruciating pleasure through every vein in her body and she lay
writhing in the sensual thrill of his nerve tingling ministrations.
The slight stubble on his chin abrasively added to her increasing
pleasure, stimulating her dewy flesh into greater erotic heights. Her
hands were clawing at his head, pushing his working face deeper into the
throbbing opening of her cunt. Tumultuous spasms of desire gripped her
body and she could feel herself buffeted by sexual paroxysms of lust.
John labored on, his ever-working tongue coaxing her responses into
fever-pitch. He felt her hips begin to rise and fall with an
involuntary, fury, and a savage gurgle was beginning in her throat.
With a driving grind, she matched his thrusts, mashing his face with her
now fully awakened crotch on the upgrind, and suctioning his tongue
painfully as she bore down.
Finally, a series of rending wails pierced the air -- her body was
flailing like a bottle at sea, her hands pulled cruelly at his hair and
her hips bucked as furiously as if she were riding a wild bronco.
"Ohhh ... ohhhhh ... ohhhhh ..." she moaned, her cries cut off and
sounding again like a static radio.
John, his exhausted tongue still probing and sucking, less
energetically but still effectively, felt a warm moistness envelop his
face as her unleashed sexual juices gushed out of their secret retreat
and drenched his swirling member.
Then she was still. John lay, face down in the pines, his
breathing ragged, his tongue sore and tender from its workout. His head
was still between her widespread legs, and her orgasmic juices drained
from her cunt and darkened the needles on the ground.
Minutes later, John, dozing in a sort of sexual twilight sleep,
felt the young girl stirring beneath him. Raising himself up, he saw
that her head was raised and resting on her elbow, and she was looking
down at him.
His neglected cock leaped into semierection from the piercing
sensuality of her gaze. Her smouldering dark eyes stared at him, and
her full red lips were flushed with passion. Her nipples were still
raised from her small mounds, and her other hand was resting on the dark
triangle of her pubic mound.
John stared back, mesmerized. In all his life, he had never seen
anything so erotic as the sight of this young girl lying on the beach
beside him.
He didn't know what to say, but it didn't matter, because his
throat was arid and he could only gurgle like an imbecile. Her
unwavering stare burned right through him, down to the pit of sensuality
which was fermenting in his loins.
With an animalistic growl, he rose up and almost leaping on top of
her, knocked her flat on her back. He smashed his mouth down on hers,
and all gentleness thrown to the winds, he ground down with a harsh
brutal kiss on her lips. Again, her arms reached up and pulled him down
on her, and she returned the crushing bestiality of his kiss, biting at
his lips, sucking his tongue far back into her mouth, until he felt it
would surely be pulled from its roots. She raked her nails down his
back, and John could feel the sun burning into the rawness of her
catlike scratches. He could feel her turgid young nipples digging into
his chest like electric prods, and his head began to spin from the
combined pain and lust which enveloped his body.
His cock which was fully erect was pressing painfully against the
hard bone of Carla's pubic mound, and he shifted his hips, allowing it
to slip between her legs. Immediately, her thighs closed in on the
hardened rod of flesh, and began to hollow in and out on his cock,
milking it and drawing it to even greater length. With a moan, he
pulled his lips from her impassioned kiss, and began to bite at her
neck, leaving teeth marks of kisses on her tanned skin, trailing down
over her swanlike throat and even further to her upthrust breasts.
Savagely he bit at the tantalizing orbs, wringing cries of pain from
Carla, but still she pressed his mouth down on her flesh. Brutally, he
spread her legs with his knees and grasping his enlarged prick in his
hand, he guided the mammoth shaft towards her tiny cuntal opening.
Without hesitation, he surged forward, pressing with all his might.
"AAARRRRGGGHHHHH!!" Carla's heart-rendering shriek rang through the
forest, silencing the birds who had been, until now, gaily singing.
Even the chipmunks and the crickets ceased their music, and a deathly
silence pervaded the area. Carla's agonized cry had brought John to
some semblance of his usual senses. Of course, he thought, she's a
virgin! Oh, God, how could I be so stupid! Frightened, he looked up,
and saw that tears were streaming down her face. Her hands, now
released from his body, were clenched in pain, and her face was
contorted with agony. Her features seemed particularly childlike, and
for the first time, realization of what he was doing dawned on John!
Tremors of fear and remorse coursed through him as the full implications
of his actions seeped through his lust-inflamed brain. Shakily, he
tried to rise to his knees, but he was stopped by Carla's had on his
shoulder.
"Oh, Mr. Harrault, please ... don't stop ... but not so hard ...
please, darling ..."
He couldn't believe it. Was she actually asking him to continue?
After what he had done to her? Anxiously, he peered at her again. The
agonized look of pain was gone from her face and once again, animal lust
had replaced it. Her limpid eyes gazed back at his, and her hand
reached down and encircled his huge cock.
"Put it in me ... fuck me ..." she said, never taking her eyes from
his face.
The lewd words coming from so young and supposedly innocent a mouth
incited John to greater lust and banished all thoughts of conscience
from his head.
His passion-inflated prick was aching for release, and he slowly
lowered himself over her willing body once more. Gently, he massaged
her soft inner thighs, drawing them apart, widening her cuntal plain for
his entry. He could see the petallike opening of her cunt contracting
in expectancy, and a thin stream of perspiration ran down from her
vagina to her tiny puckered anus nestling teasingly down between the
amber moons of her buttocks.
Gently, this time, he guided the engorged head of his prick and lay
it at the small cuntal entrance. Gazing at the astronomical difference
in circumference, John could hardly believe that he could penetrate her
tiny virginal canal. She squirmed back from the contact of his rockhard
penis against her soft cunt, and John briefly wondered whether he should
abandon his attempt to enter her. But the sight of her silky pink skin,
and the memory of her saltine taste in his mouth overpowered him, and he
began to moisten the head in the lubricants which were still flowing
around her pulsating pussy.
Tenderly, he tested the moistened head against the star-shaped
hole, and flexed his hips slightly in an attempt to warm his hardened
pole of flesh into it. Again, her virginal cunt held firm. Finally,
desperately, he grasped her hips, and holding her in a clamplike grip,
he surged forward, and managed to insert just the head in her tightly
resisting elastic hole.
Another wail of pain erupted from Carla's throat, but she did not
draw back from his thrust. He rested the head just inside her cuntal
entrance for a moment, giving her unused cunt a chance to adjust to the
unaccustomed size and then, slowly, inch by inch, began to move forward,
imbedding more and more of his mammoth prick inside her tightly clasping
tunnel. Moan after moan escaped Carla's lips and her head tossed from
side to side, like an animal in pain. The sinewy walls of her cunt
closed in on his prick like a wide elastic band, and John could barely
push his encased cock onward. Finally, he had sunk it, every last inch
of it in her cunt. Beads of perspiration stood out on his forehead from
the harsh exertion of his task, and his cock felt truly imprisoned.
Carla had ceased moaning, but her face still wore a look of pain -- no
trace of pleasure or passion showed in her tearful face. John felt a
surge of pity for the young girl so cruelly skewered by his huge mature
rod, and another stab of remorse twisted his heart. He didn't want to
hurt her, but she wanted it ... and he couldn't resist. He could only
hope that the pain would go away soon from her slight young body.
Gently, he began to withdraw from her, and to his surprise, his
penis came out fairly easily. He pulled out until just the bloated head
was still inside the tender folds, and then began to plow forward again.
This time, his cock found her sheath more open and easier, and he was
able to glide forward without too much restriction from her tight
channel. Then, he was able to saw in and out easily -- her cuntal
passage adjusted to his enormous size and aided by fresh internal
lubricants, expanded freely with the approach of the burgeoning
instrument.
Carla began to relax, too. The body-crushing pain that had
engulfed War earlier had terrorized her as well -- she felt as if she
were being split wide open. She thought she could never be the same
after it and was beginning to be sorry she had encouraged Mr. Harrault
to do it to her. But now, the pain had completely subsided and
something else had taken its place -- a flicker of heat was smouldering
again in her loins, and as John's fucking in and out gradually became
easier, the flicker ignited into flames, sending shooting heat waves up
through her body. As John sawed in and out with long smooth strokes,
her virginal body fanned the flames into an inferno of raging fire, and
her whole being quivered and shook under the boiling murkiness of her
vaginal cavern.
The volcano which was started in John's stomach at his first sight
of Carla lying on the beach like an odalisque erupted now, and began
sending the first streams of molten lava bubbling throughout his body.
The raging fire inside was burning fiercely, threatening to uncap the
volcano and send him shattering into a thousand pieces.
God, he had never felt anything like this. He couldn't imagine
anything as wonderful as fucking into this young tender virgin, just a
few miles from where his wife was! The pure fresh air which whistled
around their bodies as his body sliced through the air and the chirping
of the wildlife all made him feel as if this act, that they were
performing under the wide blue sky, was as clean and as good as the
water of the lake. Gone were his feelings of anger and hurt pride at
Iris's refusal to make up with him! Nothing was of any consequence now
but pleasing, and being pleased by this tender young body writhing in
desire beneath him, begging for his cock to continue plowing into her.
Carla's hands were clenched around his neck, and she had raised her
legs and was clasping him around the waist, her ankles locked together,
her passion giving surprising strength to her slim legs.
Mewls of pleasure punctuated her gasps for breath, and her entire
body rippled like a fish under water. Every inch of her tanned skin
seemed alive and anxious to breath his maleness in and her young cunt
had aged years in its experiments at drawing his cock in and pleasing
and teasing it.
The inferno inside Carla was also now raging out of control and she
bucked her hips up against John's grinding loins. Waves of passion were
flowing over her entire body, and try as she might, she could not keep
her eyes from watering -- lust dimmed them and it was beyond her control
to focus them. The feeling was emanating from her loins where every
nerve-ending seemed to be roiling in a lewd pot of lust. Suddenly, her
hips were jerking up out of control -- spasm after spasm twisted her
body and her head was spinning -- flashes of purples and reds and pinks
and blues exploded in her brain and she felt as if her head was a multi-
colored gyroscope, rotating of its own accord. A strange wailing
escaped her lips as she flailed her head from side to side.
"Iiiiiieeeeeeee ..." she screamed, as she rocked and tossed in a
mania of lust and passion, completely abandoned to her hedonistic search
for gratification.
Finally, the volcano erupted in John, too, and he battered his hips
against her hot, plunging young loins, as he spewed spurt after spurt of
hot bubbling sperm far, far up into her yielding cunt, filling it almost
to the bursting point. Gnawing, savage noises tore from his throat --
sounds over which he had no control, as they clung to each other in a
feverish love grip, her tight quivering young belly growing by the
instant from the force and impact of his orgasm.
Then, he collapsed onto her exhausted body and they lay there,
their bodies spent from their lust. John's head was a jumbled mass of
thoughts, but throughout his whole being, a peace spread, infusing him
with optimism and joy -- feelings he hadn't felt for days.
Carla lay there, reliving as best she could the whirlwind crescendo
of her passion, eternally grateful to John for the Eden to which he had
transported her. In the back of her mind, satiated as it was, was the
recurring thought -- "Now I'm really grown-up!"
Chapter 5
John walked quickly towards the house. It was dark and he didn't
even know how late it was. Carla had sneaked into the dormitory a few
minutes ahead of him, and now he tried to make it appear as if he had
just gone for an evening stroll. He began to whistle and think about
the hours he had spent lately with the young girl. Under his tutelage
for the past few weeks, she had really begun to blossom and now her body
had ripened into a real instrument of pleasure.
Memories of the sensual heights of the last few hours sent shivers
rippling through his body, spent as it was from their passion. His
cheerfulness faded when he thought of Iris. If the last few nights are
any example, he thought ruefully, I'll really be in trouble tonight. He
dreaded the thought of facing her. His interest in her had dropped to
zero since his affair with Carla had totally consumed him. Iris,
indignant about his increasing coldness, had become more bitchy and
complaining, and was forever harping on the day he had lost his temper
and spanked her. Just as he headed up the pathway toward the house, he
noticed that the lights were on in the stable. Thinking someone must
have left them on by mistake, he went over and let himself in. To his
surprise, he saw Iris there, standing by Conquest's box stall.
Normally, during the summer, all the animals were out in the pasture, so
John was puzzled to see the stallion stabled.
"What's he doing in?" he growled.
"If you were around here a little more often," Iris snapped, "you'd
know that he has a sprain! Not that you care anyway!"
"Why should I care," John sneered, "when he has his wet-nurse to
cater to him!"
"At least he shows me some affection!" Iris retorted, her eyes
bright with anger. "Where the hell have you been till now?"
"None of your damn business!"
"It's my business as long as half of this place belongs to me, and
don't you forget it!"
"You goddamn bitch!" John grated, advancing towards his wife. The
stallion in the stall backed away, flattening his ears. Grabbing Iris
by the arm, he raised his hand and slapped her full force across her
face. His hand left an angry red welt on her cheek and Iris stared at
him uncomprehendingly, her mouth open. The horse whinnied, and John
felt a surge of hatred as he turned to look at the animal, who was
staring back at him, his eyes red and fiery, and for a long moment, the
air between them was charged with the strength of their mutual loathing.
"Leave me alone, you bastard!" Iris hissed.
John was incensed. His wife's whining voice, her obvious disgust
for him, coupled with her obvious love for her horse all united in him
and set the stage for an uncontrollable fury.
Snarling, John tightened his grip on his wife's arm, and cruelly
dragged her away from the stall and towards the open space in the stable
where the straw was in bales. Roughly, he threw her down on an opened
bale.
She began to whimper softly, and lay, half-sprawled, her arm
shielding her eyes. The multi-colored shift she was wearing contrasted
with the golden hue of the straw, and she looked like a bunch of wilted
flowers tossed carelessly on the ground. John stood over the cowering
figure of his wife, legs apart, arms folded, the result of his brutal
action increasing his feeling of power and masculinity. He secretly
felt glad to be away from the direct hot breath of the angry stallion
behind him, and exulted in the knowledge that the beast was securely
tied inside.
Iris raised her head and turned to look at her husband. Her eyes
were full of tears, and her mouth quivered.
"Get away from me, you lousy bastard!" she spat, her entire frame
shaking with her wrath.
Angrily, John began to tear at her dress, until he had torn the
garment from her and it lay in rags beside them. She lay there,
cringing into the straw, trying to hide her nakedness from his deranged
eyes. Her bra shone eerily in the light of the stable and her panties
were a mere nylon strip around her sun-bronzed hips.
With one swift tear, he pulled the bra from her, allowing her
breasts to drop freely away. They trembled immediately in the air,
goose bumps standing out over the full smooth orbs, and the nipples rose
to turgidity, their red tips glowing. Again he wrenched the panties
from her loins, tearing the flimsy garment, until she lay there,
completely naked, her legs drawn up to protect her secret womanhood and
her arms folded over her breasts to shield their tenderness from the
bestiality of her husband.
He knelt over her, drinking in her nakedness, reveling in her
fright. His brutal action seemed to arouse fresh animosity in Conquest,
because the dumb beast, sensing his mistress's distress, reared up on
his hind legs, and battered the stall gate with his front hooves,
whinnying in a loud fierce voice. An involuntary chill swept through
John at the sound of the stallion's fury, and he sneaked a glance over
his shoulder. The animal was staring straight at him, and again, John
was thankful for the horse's confinement.
Blinded by her tears, Iris could barely make out the rearing body
of her stallion. Fear convulsed her again as she thought of what man
and horse might do to each other in their hatred, but something told her
that tonight, the man was going to vent his anger on her, and her alone.
She was half-crazed with fright -- she didn't know what he would do to
her, but she knew she shouldn't resist -- he was on the verge of a
maniacal fury that would be nightmarish if fully released. So she just
lay there, cowering before her husband.
John, looking at the prostrate figure of his wife, remembered all
her nights of coldness and the relatively minor event which had started
it all. With a growl, he flung himself down on top of her, and began to
cover her body with hard biting kisses, sinking his teeth hard into her
naked flesh with the regularity of a hungered vampire. Little moans of
agony wrung themselves from Iris's throat, and she twitched under the
sharp pain of his teeth. His arms held her in a wrestler's grip and she
was unable to move her body. His fingers dug into her flesh, sending
fresh pain rocketing through her, and suddenly, one hand shot out and
grabbed her by her short hair.
He pulled her until her head was pressed back painfully, and he
maneuvered her until she was kneeling on all fours. Still holding her
by the hair, he stood up, and then straddled her, and sat down heavily
on her naked back. The unexpected weight pushed all the breath out of
her body, and her back swayed under him. His feet reached the floor,
but he folded them under so that his entire weight was resting on her
abused backbone. She knew she daren't sink to the ground because he
maintained his cruel grip on her hair. Then, sadistically, he slapped
her on her bare buttocks, and began to pump up and down on her aching
back, aping the movements of a rider on a horse.
"Giddyap there, giddyap!" he called, straining her bruised body
beyond belief.
Her sobs had dried up and she could only hack pathetically as he
bounced up and down on her. Finally, unable to stand it anymore, she
collapsed in a heap, doubled up with pain.
"Aha, you don't like being ridden like a goddamn horse, I see!"
John sneered as he disentangled himself from her beaten body.
Still kneeling, he grasped her by the hips, and pulled her back up
on all fours. Crushed beyond endurance, Iris could only yield to
whatever brutishness he had in mind. He knelt behind her, his fingers
digging into the soft moons of her buttocks. He ran his hand along the
vertebrae of her back, pushing down painfully on each one, causing Iris
to gasp with new pain. Again, he shoved her head down into the straw,
until her naked buttocks were waving defenselessly back in the air. The
rough straw tickled her face and its abrasive stems scratched her skin,
but she daren't object. Her ass cheeks felt defenseless and
unprotected, and she clenched them together. His palms flattened on
each of her trembling buttocks, John slowly spread them wide, stretching
the soft yielding crevice almost to the straining point. He stared at
the puckered little ring of her anus, nestled between the fall quivering
melons, the wrinkled brown skin contracting slightly. He could see the
pink split of her cunt beneath it and the sensuous button of her
clitoris was barely visible through the dark jungle of her pubic hair.
A faint piquant odor of sex rose to greet his nostrils, and they flared
as they inhaled the pungent smell. Deliberately, he lowered his head,
and ran the tip of his tongue along the full length of the widespread
crack, which caused Iris to pull forward in an attempt to escape the
salacious licking of his tongue. But he held her fast and she could
only submit to his perverted licking. His tongue grazed tantalizingly
at the tiny elastic ring, jabbing at it, testing its resiliency. He
nipped at the fleshy loaves, leaving indentations in the soft flesh, and
his bristly chin rubbed into her tender buttocks, sandpapering the skin
into an angry redness. He raised a finger and began to probe at the
tightly resisting rectum, as if mesmerized by the tiny quivering nether
entrance.
John felt as if he were possessed by a demonical being who steered
him onto greater atrocities and cruelties. He had no control over his
base actions and he could only follow the orders of his unknown master.
He was spellbound by the vile deeds he was perpetrating on his wife, and
their very perversity only seemed to spur him on. Spittle from his
lascivious licking of his wife's backside drooled out of his mouth now
as he prodded at her virgin anus. Iris was now beyond fear. There was
only a numbness in her and a wish to have it all over with. She doubted
if she could even feel pain, so beyond human feeling was she. She
didn't know what madness had possessed her husband -- she only wished it
would pass before he did something really irreparable with her. Now she
winced again as she felt his finger jabbing cruelly at her back passage.
What was he going to do? Why didn't he leave that place alone?
"AAARRRGGGHHHH ...!!" She screamed wildly as the finger, just the
tip, penetrated the tight elastic opening and entered her rectum.
Lashes of agony shot through her. She felt as if her entire back
passage was on fire -- as if someone were shooting a cannon up her
rectum. She plunged her buttocks wildly from side to side in an attempt
to dislodge the invader, but nothing seemed to help. Desperately, she
put her hand back there, and through the mindless daze of pain, reached
for the intruding finger and yanked it out with new found strength.
John stared, agog, for a moment at her brazen action. Her defiance
kindled additional anger and snarling like a cornered wolverine, he
jammed his finger all the way back up into her tender, vainly resisting
anus.
"Owwwowwwowwowowowowowow!!" she shrieked, the new intrusion even
more painful than the last. She ground her head down into the straw,
trying to block out the brain-shattering pain that had skyrocketed up
there from her tortured rectum. The finger remained there, imbedded in
her virginal membrane, and then it began to probe around inside the
tender canal, widening and stretching it beyond all human endurance.
John's other hand still dug cruelly into her hip and her entire
body was one seething mass of pain. Even her knees ached from being
ground into the straw, and her entire frame was wracked from the
unnaturalness of her position.
Finally, to her intense relief, she felt the finger being withdrawn
from her sorely stretched rectum, and the crippling pain which jarred
her entire dorsal bone, eased a little.
Unbelievably, she felt her ass cheeks being stretched again until
she thought the skin would break between them.
Iris then heard the sound of clothes being removed and she knew
that her husband was preparing himself for whatever bestiality he had in
mind. Then he was behind her once more, and she felt the full length of
his steel-hard prick pressing up into her buttocks. It felt huge and
long, and she shuddered at the thought of the strength with which he
would plunge it into her.
John looked down at his erection in satisfaction. In spite of his
endless fucking into Carla, he was proud that he could still manage such
a mammoth display of his masculinity. He couldn't help shuffling around
to face Iris, where he paraded his manhood obscenely in front of her
blanched face. She stared at it as if hypnotized, and he dangled the
obese instrument a few scant inches from her eyes. He cackled evilly as
he strutted back to his former position behind the helplessly kneeling
figure of his wife.
Then again, he tested the lust-inflated head at the tiny anal
opening, barely stretched by his probing finger. With a brutal savage
lunge, he jerked forward and succeeded in implanting the tip of his cock
inside her tormented rectum.
A long low moan of pure animal pain sounded in the stable, and Iris
moaned again and again, the bone-chilling, sobs wrenching themselves
painfully from her demented body. She feebly tried to move her buttocks
away from the cruelly skewering pale of hardened flesh but her strength
was ebbing and she could only manage a few faint jerks.
Still holding her fast, John began to slice forward, thrusting his
giant shaft into the tight clinging depths of his wife's back passage.
He could feel her body quivering under his touch and her screams still
rent the air. On his right, from the corner of his eye, he could see
the stallion, plunging against the stall door, flecks of foam at his
mouth, his eyes red and furious. He was neighing -- a shrill angry
whinny that combined with that of his mistress and gave the stable the
sound of sinners in damnation.
The eerie sounds sent chills sneaking along his back, but he was
unable to do anything but ream forward with his sodomizing prick boring
deeper and deeper into his wife's rectum.
Iris's thoughts were blank -- she was conscious of nothing but the
agonizing pain. Even moments of shame and mortification disappeared and
all that mattered was the desire to be released from the excruciating
agony. Oh, God, she thought, how can he do this depraved thing to me?
"Oh, stop, please John stop, you're splitting me ..." she sobbed
mindlessly, her buttocks thrashing with new strength.
John, goaded on by the whining quality of her plea, thrust forward
and sunk even more of his hungry cock into the smooth rubbery walls of
her grotesquely distended back passage.
Iris ceased struggling when she realized that her every movement
only served to draw the brutally stiffened cock even further into her
forbidden sanctuary. Pain spread like wildfire through her body as she
felt the staining cheeks of her ass being stretched and pulled even
further apart to allow her husband to sink his fleshy shaft deeper into
her virginal channel. Then, all of a sudden, he was all the way in! He
had buried every peripheral inch of his hardened rod into her soft
bruised rectum! Moaning piteously, she could feel his balls, dangling
lewdly with their heavy load of sperm, slapping down against her open
cunt, the crinkly skin curiously irritating the tender lips of her naked
pussy.
Iris lay completely still, hardly daring to breath, fearful of
increasing the splitting pain by any unnecessary motion. Her hips,
still inhumanly gripped by his gorilla-strong hands, were numb and the
only thing she was conscious of was the enormous cock pushing solidly
into her painfully widened anus, the hard fleshy length of it stretching
and expanding the soft yielding flesh unbearably.
John stared down at his plunging cock, ripping cruelly into his
wife's tender flesh. He gazed greedily at the delicate pink inner
ridges as they clung to his withdrawing pole. Then still watching the
disappearing length, he rammed it into her depths until his balls were
wedged hard between the tight globes of her backside. He could feel his
wife periodically trying to clench her buttocks to squeeze him out, but
her tightening only increased the pressure on his cock, transporting him
to new ecstasy.
To her intense relief, Iris felt the inhuman pain abate and she
could feel her breath coming almost normally again. The horse had
ceased kicking and rearing, and was now whining softly, his eyes still
riveted on the lewd lascivious rape in front of him. His ears were
still flattened on his head and his tail was swiping back and forth
menacingly.
As John began a rhythmic sawing in and out of her abused anal
passage, Iris began to wonder what had brought this cruelty, this base
action on her. What had she done to deserve her husband's humiliating
anal fucking? She was still angry over the spanking incident, unable to
block out the degradation from her mind, but this, this was far worse.
She didn't think she could ever face him again after tonight. He was
inhumanly fucking her from behind, mounting her like a stallion might
...
Her thoughts were blanked out by the recognition of a new feeling
beginning deep within her -- a small needleprick of fire. The tingling
quickly grew and horror blinded her as she realized that her body was
betraying her -- she was actually beginning to enjoy the vile act! She
clenched her buttocks together in an attempt to drown out the burning
that was there, but to no avail. The desire grew, until the flames
licked up and spread like wildfire through her entire body. Her whole
body felt charged with electricity, and even the tips of her fingers
tingled until she thought she could feel sparks crackling from them.
Oh, God, she thought miserably, I am just as bad as he is!
A strange masochistic pleasure began to swirl in her belly, and
from her face, buried in the straw, a low ecstatic moan helplessly
escaped. Her slowly awakening body began to, against her mind's will,
undulate her buttocks, and she began to clench her ass cheeks fistlike,
this time to draw in deeper the fleshy rod of her husband's penis.
John, sensing her subjugation, felt a flush of exultant pride
overtake him, and he renewed his efforts, and sent his cock slicing
through her cock-widened passage, surging forward until the base was
flush against her sphincter, and his balls buffeted hard against her
upraised cunt. Then he withdrew the long shaft quickly allowing just
the head to remain inside, noting with satisfaction the satiny sheen of
her inner lubricants coating his prick, before battering forward again
like a charger.
All thoughts of the lewdness of her position vanished from her
thoughts and she was obsessed with a flood of ecstatic and masochistic
joy which enveloped her like a whirlpool. Iris rocked her buttocks up
against her husband's onslaught, screwing her rectum hard back against
the oncoming pole, trying to devour every millimeter of its length in
her forever stretched anal canal.
"Ooooohhhhhh," she whined through clenched teeth, "fuck it, please
fuck it harder ..."
John, incited by her lewd command, began to fuck even more
furiously into her, until his breathing was ragged, and the muscles on
his thighs stood out like whipcords against his flesh.
"Eeeeeehhhhhhh!" she moaned again, "hurt me, split me ..." Her
body thrashed uncontrollably as her ass rose hungrily to meet his
powerfully driving cock. The salacious thought of what her husband was
doing to her drove her into an incredible frenzy of lust and she was
aware of nothing but the obscene smacking sound of her husband's hips
against her ass and the soft whickering of the stallion in his stall.
She could feel her rectum contracting of its own volition around
the skewering cock, and then she heard her husband begin to mouth
obscenities at her.
"Oh, Christ ... fuck back ... fuck back ... I'm cuummiiinnnggg!!"
and his hot river of semen swept like a floodtide deep up into her anal
passage, sending searing pain and masochistic pleasure shooting through
her as she felt the stinging liquid burning into the rawness of her
rectum. She could feel every throbbing sensation of his prick as it
pumped in heavy pulsating spurts its load of sticky milky fluid deep
into her wildly clasping depths. And then an almost insane convulsion
of pleasure overwhelmed her, and she was flailing madly, her knees
digging into the ground, her hands clutching at her own hair, adding to
her agony as she pulled at the short strands, and her ass was battering
desperately back up against her husband's deflating cock as she felt her
entire body caught in the mainstream of a tremendous climax which lifted
her up and pounded her down again like a grain of helpless sand caught
in the sea.
Finally, they were still and their declining panting filled the
stable. Iris's eyes were closed and she knew that even if she tried,
she couldn't move. She felt her husband stirring and felt his flaccid
prick slipping from her cum-filled anus with a slight sucking noise.
She heard him get up and then the stable door close, and she was left
alone.
What seemed an eternity later, she opened her eyes. He had turned
out the light, and she was lying in darkness. She could see the shining
eyes of the stallion looking at her, and he whinnied softly to her.
Dragging herself up painfully, she tottered over to the stall and patted
his eager nose. Then, slowly, she gathered up her things and limped
into the house.
The bedroom was in darkness too, and wearily she closed the door
behind her. She was grateful when she noticed that John was not there,
and glancing at the top of the closet where their sleeping bags were
kept, she saw that his was missing and felt relieved that he was going
to spend the night in the woods.
Exhausted and drained, she sank down on the bed. From nowhere, a
sudden rush of tears leapt to her eyes and rushed scalding down her
face. Convulsed with sobs, she finally managed to drift off to a fitful
and restless sleep.
Chapter 6
John dismounted at the waterfall. Looking around, he saw that no
other horse was tethered, and he wonder if Carla had gotten there yet.
He sat down under a pine tree, and waited. He hadn't seen Iris
since last night, when he had gotten his sleeping bag and slept in the
woods. He was secretly afraid to face her again -- after last night, he
knew he had gone too far, and he daren't think of the effect his
bestiality would have on her and on their marriage.
Hearing a crackling of the underbrush, he jumped up and was
relieved to see Carla running towards him. He held out his arms and she
ran into them, and he folded her in close to his heart. She was the
bright spot in his life these days, and he eagerly looked forward to the
hours he would spend with her.
After a moment, she wordlessly slipped to her knees on the ground
before him and began to toy with his sunburned legs, running her hands
up and down the sensitive inner thighs. John groaned -- he could never
cease to be amazed at the expertise and hunger with which Carla had
managed to practice her lovemaking. In a few short weeks she had
changed from a young schoolgirl to a love-ripened goddess. Now, she
played her fingertips along his legs, teasing the erotic area, and
pulling childlike on the profuse hair which covered his thighs.
Boldly, she slipped out her tongue and ran the tip of the smooth
pink organ along his flesh, which tickled as if crawling with insects.
He stroked her shining black hair, and closed his eyes, giving himself
up completely to the sensuous caresses.
He felt a tug at his Bermudas -- looking down, he saw that Carla
was toying with the fly zipper. Finally, she managed to unhook the top
and slide the metal down, and his shorts slipped effortlessly to his
ankles. His prick, in the wakening stages of erection, looked out
sleepily at the sunshine.
Carla began to stroke it with her fingers, the tips of her nails
barely scraping the flesh. She cupped his balls, dangling low between
his legs, as yet unaware of the attention, and weighed them in her palm.
She searched through the wiry pubic hair, pulling the matted dark curls,
and slid a finger down between his legs, and wormed it along to where
his anus lay between his clenched buttocks. Then she returned her
attention to his growing prick and began to massage the fleshy organ,
rolling it between her two palms, all the while pulling gently on it as
if she were striving to lengthen it that way. Under his eyes, he could
see it become infused with reddish color, the head took on more obese
proportions and the whole length of it began to protrude from the forest
of his pubic hair like a proud oak tree. The blue veins were raised
against the smooth top surface, and they seemed to palpitate beneath
the, young girl's touch. He could feel her fingers grate along the
webbed underside, and she began to probe at the base where it separated
from his loins, digging at the foundation, sending thrills of hitherto
unknown joy scurrying through him.
Then, he felt the delicious contact of warm moist lips on the
burgeoning head, and with a sigh, he felt more and more of the length
being enclosed in her soft, buttery young mouth. Looking down, he saw
that her eyes were closed, and her silken hair was falling down over her
face and onto his prick, where it tickled the fleshy protuberance
tantalizingly. He saw her ovalled lips slide down the full length and
he could hardly believe it when he felt the head of his cock touch all
the way to the back of her throat. Surely she'll choke, he thought to
himself, but he made no move to withdraw his hardened rod from her
willing mouth. He could feel his sensitive flesh ripple along the
ridged roof of her mouth and he could barely discern the sharp edges of
her teeth as they glided over his slippery length.
His balls were still cupped protectively in her palm, and the other
hand was clasped around what little remained of his prick, where it
furled and unfurled around the base stimulating it on to even greater
length.
Inside her velvety mouth, her tongue teased the tiny opening at the
head of his cock, darting in and out of the slit, trying to suck
whatever cum might be lurking there.
Her teeth pressed gently against the under channel, playing with
its venous surface, and her lips slipped up and down, stopping just
under the spreading folds of the head as her hand drew the instrument
out.
Carla labored on as if in a trance. Her head pumped abandonly from
side to side, slavishly licking every inch of the monstrous pole,
sucking harder and harder, her tongue swirling faster and faster. She
could taste the mildly sweet-sour taste of John's cum which was
beginning to form at the tiny opening, and the bloated head felt heavy
in her mouth. Her hand automatically pumped at the sperm-loaded balls,
frantically pummeling them, trying to send their life-giving seed on
their way. She could feel the hard knobby head pressing painfully
against her larynx, but she made no move to ease the giant instrument a
little further out of her lips -- instead she seemed to be trying to
swallow even more of it in her completely filled mouth.
A blissful rapture was seeping all over John. He felt as if his
head were floating, reaching up for dizzy sensual heights. He felt as
if every muscle and vein in his body were bursting with passion and he
felt sure smoke must be rising from his skin, so intense were the fires
burning inside him. The water and trees around him swam before his
eyes, and he foolishly felt that the whole universe had started to spin
faster on its axis, and that he and Carla alone were standing still in
the world.
Just when the beginnings of a wild, uncontrollable release were
starting to take hold of him, the warning ray that never sleeps in the
human brain, regardless of the situation, tolled an alarm. Dimly, he
was aware of footsteps behind him, and he tried to turn his head to see
who the intruder was. But all his faculties were concentrated on the
tremendous pounding of pleasure that was hammering away in his loins,
and he anxiously strained for the ultimate release.
Suddenly, the world was spinning, and John felt himself falling.
For a split second, he was confused. He thought he had reached an
unknown pinnacle of pleasure and that he was cumming, but he hit the
ground with a thud so hard that it removed all his doubts.
Dazed, he sprawled there, arms and legs awry, and tried to focus
his swimming eyes on what was happening. He was aware of girlish
voices, and could barely make out Carla laughing, seemingly no longer
interested in his prick that was burning with its unshed passion.
Another voice caught his ears. It sounded familiar but who was it?
With an effort, he turned his head and made out a slight female shape
looking down at him. For a moment, his heart turned a somersault and he
thought it was his wife, Iris, who had discovered them, but thankfully
his vision cleared allowing him to see that the third party was Nancy
Harper! What is she doing here? he thought, puzzled. She was dressed
in a brief swimming suit, her long blond hair blowing in the summer
breeze. The sun shone through her golden mane, sending curious shafts
of glowing light reflecting on his face, until he thought she was some
sort of heavenly being appearing before a mere mortal in all her
celestial array. With an effort, he tried to raise himself to his arms,
and was finally able to grunt:
"Nancy, what are you doing here?"
"What are you doing here, Mr. Harrault?" she echoed, a mocking
sound in her still-childish voice. He could hardly believe that this
mini-temptress standing over him, hands on hips, was the same timid
Nancy who crept mouselike around the camp. "The Younger Generation"
flashed through his mind and he shook his head.
Then he felt a weight on him. He was aware of two female bodies
jumping on him, and then all he felt was a tangle of naked arms and
legs. They pulled at him, tugging on his limbs, and succeeding in
rolling him over and over until he found himself at the edge of the
lake. The water lapped in on the three of them, writhing there on the
shore, drenching his tee shirt. He heard himself laughing, and he began
to splash the water over the two sprites, and they cavorted and played
at the water's edge like three young dolphins. He felt his tee shirt
being lifted off his back and a strange wild feeling, a desire to
retaliate, possessed him and he began to rip at whatever shreds of
clothing his fingers landed on. He ripped off a swimming suit top, with
someone's help, a suit bottom and various other articles of clothing,
until there was no more, and the three of them were stark naked, the
water seeping invitingly in and out of whatever orifices and nooks it
would find.
Their girlish giggles sounded in the forest, and he felt as if a
great weight had been lifted from him. He felt as young as they were,
unburdened by any of the griefs of an adult.
Then, exhausted by his kiddish playfulness, he sank back on the
beach, begging his girl companions to give him a breather. He was half
in the water, the water covering his legs, and the wet coldness of it
felt as relaxing as a cool drink.
The two girls sat side by side, whispering conspiratorially, and
John let his glance fall on the golden hue of Nancy's petite, thirteen-
year-old body. Her long yellow hair fanned down to almost her waist,
and her rosebud breasts, their delicate pink nipples showing like the
heart of some beautiful flower, swelled up proudly from her smooth
flesh. He could see a faint flaxen down covering her pubic mound, and
her entire body was only just beginning to take on a womanly appearance.
He gulped at the sight of this beautiful nymph, her pale golden
appearance greatly enhanced by the sultry darkness of Carla.
Suddenly, they were on top of him again, knocking the breath out of
him. His prick had died of neglect and it was just a soft mass of flesh
cuddled between his thighs, hiding itself in the knotted pubic curls.
He now felt it being raised again and gently taken between two
hands. Looking down, he saw that Carla had again resumed her position
between his legs, and was beginning to stroke new life into his
disappointed prick. He could feel it stirring beneath her feathery
touch and he could see the crinkly skin of his balls moving and
writhing, like some giant sluggish insect. He spread his legs, allowing
more room for Carla's slender body, and lay back, basking in the
attention and the sunshine. He closed his eyes, reveling in the new
warmth which was spreading from his loins over his whole body.
Then he felt a moistness, and warmness over his face, and he opened
his eyes in time to see a shadow descending over him. Before he could
pull away, the moist, fleshy mass settled itself on his mouth and for an
instance panic seized him as his breath was cut off. Adjusting his head
slightly, he became aware that it was Nancy! She had placed her young
cunt directly over his mouth! Her spicy feminine odor permeated his
nose and already he could taste a drop of her sweet, excited lubricant
which escaped from her hungry cunt.
Tentatively, he flicked out his tongue and dabbed at the moist pink
split above him. He felt Nancy jerk back from the unexpected contact
and then settle herself back on his tongue. He began to swipe at her
luscious pussy, twirling his tongue around the moistening folds and
crevices of her virginal orifice, eliciting tiny gasps of pleasure from
her. His searching organ found the tip of her clitoris, and began to
massage the tiny bud, gently titillating the very tip. He traced his
tongue along the sparsely-haired lips, which were already beginning to
throb and swell with the blood that was rushing into them. He tickled
the frayed pink edges of her tiny inner lips feeling their ragged
pulsating edges. He dabbed at the small cuntal opening, and he heard
Nancy's breath come in pants, in time to his tonguing dabs.
He raised his hands, and placed one on either side of her,
squeezing her widespread hips. His fingers caressed the smooth golden
flesh, pulling and stroking in wide circular movements. Her hands
automatically began to massage his shoulders, slipping in and out of the
bony hollows. They ran along his rough neck, petting the bumpy skin.
They slipped up to his hair, where they dug into the strands, and
massaged his head, kneading the skin and pulling at his short dark hair.
John began to suck voraciously at the proffered cunt above him. He
licked the tender flesh, drawing its nectar-sweet juices into his mouth.
His teeth nipped at the soft edges, trapping it here and there, while
the tongue teased the imprisoned flesh unmercifully. Her clitoris began
to increase in size under his ministrations and he bit into it with a
series of teasing little bites, each one sending an electric charge
through her twitching body. His tongue jabbed at the contracting cuntal
opening, and then he surged it forward and buried the tip in her warm
cuntal depths. A deep sigh escaped her as she felt the organ snaking
out from between his lips and hungrily searching in the warm wet walls
of her pussy. She could feel it lick along the inner grooves, and
darting ever deeper into her inner sanctum.
John could feel her velvety vaginal sheath contracting over his
tongue, and he began to swirl it around faster and faster, whipping up a
froth of lubricant, which dripped from her vagina and foamed at the
corner of his mouth. His face was becoming flushed from his exertion,
and also from the fantastic manipulation of Carla's mouth on his prick.
It had risen again like a phoenix and was now towering out from his
loins. Carla was purring like a kitten around the hard pillar of his
cock and her throat muscles were milking it in a manner he had never
experienced before. The whole length of her tongue washed the underside
of his shaft with her saliva. Then she withdrew his shaft from her
mouth and John stifled a groan as he felt the dripping rod exposed to
the coolness of the air. She leaned slightly forward and began to paint
his balls with her juices, still holding his thick cock firmly by the
base. He felt the sperm bloated sacs quiver as she trailed her wet
tongue over them, and then once again she enclosed the turbulent prick
in her mouth and continued to exploit it in an effort to milk it dry,
increasing his fever a hundredfold.
John's head was still imprisoned between Nancy's thighs, and he
burrowed his tongue deep into her slippery passage. Her thighs clenched
tightly around his face, squeezing his face unmercifully. He licked at
the juice of her flowing cunt, her pungent fermenting moistness coating
his face. His strange lewd sucking sounds echoed in the forest, and all
that mattered to him at that moment was the delicious pussy that was
splayed open to his questing mouth.
Little mewls of pleasure were gurgling from Nancy's lips as she
rode him like an equestrian heroine, not relinquishing for a moment her
thigh-grip on him for a moment. Her body moved with a rhythm of its
own, and she ground her pussy hungrily down on John's trapped face. He
could feel the walls of her cunt closing in on him in even stronger
contractions, and his tired tongue worked feverishly to sustain the
heights that it had initiated.
He could also feel Carla's voice vibrating somewhere around his
cock and occasionally little moans of pleasure escaped from around his
still-spreading prick.
Opening his eyes, he saw the ecstatically contorted face of Nancy
waving above him, her eyes closed, her mouth half-open and working
grotesquely. Her small breasts were bobbing in the air, and thin
rivulets of sweat ran down the small valley between their youthful orbs.
Her taut stomach palpitated with the force of her grinding down on his
face, and the downy surface of her pubic mound was glistening with
perspiration. He raised his hand and began to knead the rocking moons
of her ass, shaping the flesh with his fingers like dough.
His entire body was on fire, buffeted between the two girls. He
was coated with perspiration, and tremors convulsed him.
His prick was leaping obscenely into Carla's sucking mouth, and he
could feel the fomentation swirling in his balls. Red-hot pokers jabbed
at his flesh, and boiling lava coursed through his veins.
Suddenly, a catlike wail sounded in the stillness, and then:
"I'm cuuummmmiiinnngggggg!" and Nancy was bucking and rearing like
a wild thing, bouncing up and down on his face until he thought that he
would be disfigured. Her warm juices flowed down over his mouth and
nose, their honeylike sweetness seeping in through his facial orifices.
Her small tight young cunt was convulsing demonically, and he felt a
tremendous ache at the root of his tongue, where the mouth of her hot
little hole was pulling at the flicking organ in a desperate attempt to
swallow it entirely.
Just then, the brushfire within him raged out of all control, and
he felt his own body begin a lewd dance of wanton abandon and he jerked
and tossed, unseating the now satiated Nancy. Carla still clung by her
mouth to his gushing cock, and her face billowed and hollowed as she
hungrily swallowed every last drop of his molten semen. She gasped and
sputtered and drops of his foaming white cum overflowed out the corners
of her mouth.
Then, all three of them lay there, satiated and spent from their
lust-crazed orgy, sensual desire swelling out of every sinew and bone in
their bodies, and little trickles of cum trailing in the water that
lapped around their bodies, to be swept out and buried in the womb of
the lake.
Chapter 7
Iris woke up with a headache. As usual, she saw that John had
already risen, although it was only 7:00 a.m. Downcast in spirit, she
got out of bed and hastily threw on a loose fitting dress. She ambled
into the kitchen and was relieved to see that John had left some coffee
for her.
As she drank the strengthening liquid, she glanced out the kitchen
window, and saw John out there, saddling one of the horses. Now where
is he off to so early? she thought.
As if in answer to her thoughts, she spotted Carla and Nancy riding
on ahead. Still half asleep, she began to think that he must be giving
them swimming lessons, just like he had for the past several days.
She pondered over the dreariness of the past few days. They had
dragged by, each day seeming longer than the one before. She hadn't
spoken a word to John since that awful anal rape in the stable. And he
hadn't said anything to her, either. And, to cap it all, Conquest's
sprain had gotten much worse as a result of the anguish John had caused
him by raping her in front of him, and making him batter the stall gate
with his sprained hoof. The combination of events lead Iris to feel an
almost unnatural loathing for her husband, and she was desperately
seeking ways to get even with him. But he was so busy during the day,
she hardly saw him. Always with the girls -- giving them lessons, going
to the village with them, taking them to the movies.
In the back of her mind, a nagging question recurred. Was he
really teaching the girls to swim? He always seemed to be with Carla
and Nancy -- none of the others got any private lessons! Suspicion
growing in her mind, she got up and dashed out to the yard in time to
see John swing out towards the woods. She ran over to the paddock and
hastily slapping a bridle on one of the horses, she leaped up and
cantered off in the direction that John had taken. Careful to keep him
a respectful distance in front, she was surprised to see that he didn't
stop at the usual swimming area, but cantered on, making a circle of the
lake. Silently, she followed him, and finally, in the distance, she saw
him dismount. Ducking behind the trees so he wouldn't see her, she
stealthily traced the path he had taken.
She tethered the horse a few hundred yards from where she could see
three other horses, and then began to creep through the woods. She was
afraid that the birds would give their usual warning -- telling everyone
that someone was creeping through the forest -- but fortunately, this
morning they obliged by keeping quiet.
She heard the laughter of feminine voices and then the huskier
guffaw of her husband's voice. As the voices got louder, she craned her
neck in an attempt to see the trio.
Finally, she approached a clearing, and could see through the trees
a small waterfall, chattering over the rocks. She edged closer and
finally she was separated from the clearing only by single trees.
For a moment, she saw nothing and was just about to step into view,
when the naked laughing figure of her husband dashed past, only a few
feet away from her. He was looking over his shoulder and he almost bent
double with laughter. He was galloping around in circles, and Iris
could barely stop herself from dashing out there herself and confronting
him. Then she gasped. Another naked figure ran into view -- it was
Carla, her long dark hair flowing behind her, her arms outstretched,
trying to reach John. Her shaded young pubic triangle gleamed against
her bronze skin, and her long slender legs rippled with the efforts of
her gait. Iris had barely time to draw a breath before she caught sight
of yet another figure -- this time it was Nancy, running on her shorter
legs, her long blond hair like a golden cloud about her small face.
Even from the distance, Iris could see her gray eyes were sparkling and
her cherry red mouth was open, revealing perfect white teeth. The tip
of her pointed pink tongue darted out to wet her lips, and her small
breasts bobbed and bounced from the jaunting movement of her body. All
three were playing some kind of lewd game of naked tag, and the places
they were trying to touch were not the usual places either!
Blind fury convulsed Iris as she watched her husband frolicking
like a lascivious satyr with wood nymphs.
Unable to stand it any longer, Iris dashed out, her hands doubled
into fists, her dress riding up around her thighs.
"You dirty bastard!" she screamed, "You dirty old man!"
All three of the naked figures stopped their game abruptly and
looked at her. Her hair was all askew, stuck with brambles and leaves.
Her face was contorted and saliva was forming into flecks of foam at her
lips. Her arms were raised in a typical John L. Sullivan pose and her
shift was so high they could see the nylon of her panties.
Iris made straight for John and began to pummel him with her fists,
all the while mouthing obscenities at him. He, surprised beyond belief,
just stood there, mouth open, staring at the strange sight, impervious
even to her stinging blows.
Carla and Nancy, at first dismayed by the sudden entry of Iris,
regained their cool and began to laugh with gusto at the ludicrous
sight. Iris was kicking freely at John, and she landed one hard thump
on his shin, causing John to lift the attacked leg and bellow in rage.
The two girls began to jump up and down, complete children again in
their enjoyment of the tragicomedy, and began to clap their hands,
egging John on to defend himself against his angered wife.
The pain of the sharp blow to his shin brought John to his senses
and he lunged forward, tackling Iris like a football player, bringing
them both to the ground.
She continued to kick and swing at him, digging up the ground in
her efforts, and pine needles and other leaves flew up, coating the
perspiring pair. Finally John was able to subdue his enraged wife by
pinning her arms back and sitting on her legs. Trapped though she was,
she continued to spew invectives at her husband, her face a deformed
picture of rage, covered with leaves and dirt.
"Bastard ..." she howled. "No-good bum ..."
John, seeing the funny appearance his wife presented, grime-covered
as she was, couldn't suppress a laugh.
"What kind of wildlife do we have here?" he asked, prodding at her
with his free hand. "A dirt-covered fishwife, fresh from the forest!"
Carla and Nancy laughed uproariously, adding fuel to Iris's smouldering
fire.
"Let's see what this bird looks like without feathers!" he sang,
and began to pull her dress from her imprisoned body. She tried to
struggle, but pinioned as she was, the attempt was futile. He managed
to remove her dress, and then flicked her bra and removed it. He
reached down and began to roll down her panties. Iris, her legs
released for a split second, kicked out furiously, and landed a hard
blow to John's chin, knocking him completely off balance.
Iris leaped up, her panties still just above her knees, and began
to run toward the woods. The girls, galvanized into action by the sight
of the fleeing woman, gave chase. Usually a strong and fast runner,
Iris was hampered by the confining panties above her knees, and before
she had fled many yards, the two younger girls caught up with her. They
grabbed her, one on either side, and managed to slow her down. Tired
from her struggle, the older woman was no match for the equal strength
of Nancy and superior power of Carla. Triumphantly, the two girls
marched back to the clearing with their prisoner, like natives capturing
a fleeing missionary.
John had recovered from the blow, but her strike for freedom had
awakened the anger which never seemed to be far from the surface as far
as Iris was concerned.
He instructed the girls to make Iris lie flat on the ground. They
gleefully complied, and she was stretched out, Nancy sitting on her legs
and Carla holding down her arms.
He could see his wife quivering in fear, and he relished the look
of fright on her face. Her legs were slightly spread and he could see a
faint pulsing of her pussy. Sweat was running in trickles down between
her legs, and her breasts were heaving. Her entire body was streaked
with dirt, and she looked like a captive primitive jungle maiden.
He paced up and down, stroking his chin, pondering over what to do
with her.
Finally, he snapped his fingers and said:
"I've got it! Nancy, why don't you give Iris a little kissing and
loving to make up for what we've done!"
Nancy stared at him for a moment, and then a salacious grin spread
across her young features. She glanced at Iris's unprotected pussy and
then back at John. Her eyes were flashing as if in expectancy of what
was to come. Again, she swiped her tongue over her dust-covered lips,
and returned her gaze to Iris's trembling pussy.
John reached down and replaced Nancy as custodian of Iris's feet,
and grasping an ankle in either hand, spread her legs wide, and then sat
back, still grasping her ankles, allowing plenty of room for Nancy, who
was settling herself between the widespread legs.
Iris, recognizing what was to come, tried to struggle, but she was
held in a viselike grip and couldn't move. A broken sob escaped her
throat and she could only grit her teeth.
To John's surprise, he saw Nancy almost immediately lower her head
and take a closer look at the pink throbbing delicacy between his wife's
legs. Her small hands began to knead the fleece-covered pubic mound,
and John was surprised by the expert motion of the young girl.
He raised his eyes quizzically to Carla, who nodded her head.
"Yes," she said, with the air of a successful teacher, "she's
pretty good at it, too. She's been doing it to me for weeks so she's
had plenty of practice!"
John opened his mouth in amazement and was about to reply, when his
attention was caught by the action beside him.
Nancy was slowly spreading the soft, hair-rimmed flanges of his
wife's cunt, her thumb and forefinger pressed out on either side. She
drew apart the outer lips, and craning his neck, John could see the pink
frayed edges of her inner pussy lips come into view. The tip of her
pink-budded clitoris was barely visible through the maze of black pubic
hair, and Nancy's eyes widened at the voracious sight in front of her.
Greedily, she ran her eyes over the moist throbbing folds, the jagged
edges of her cuntal hole, which were pulsing slightly, the darkened
crinkled skin of her anus, barely noticeable wedged between the full
rounded folds of her buttocks.
The blue veins stood out prominently against her smooth inner
thighs and above the upraised mound, her flat stomach quivered. Raising
her eyes, Nancy could see the shivering mounds of Iris's breasts, the
nipples still flush with the flowing pink areolae. The tanned orbs rose
up proudly, forming a deep golden valley. Nancy swept her eyes down the
finely sculpted form of the older woman, and noted the fine sweep of her
hips, the tiny puckered navel which gave way to a thin line of jet black
hairs which fell all the way to her dark pubic triangle.
Then her gray eyes darted back automatically to the sight in front
of her. She raised a finger and guided it toward the tight quivering
little apex. She felt Iris jerk back from the touch of her finger on
her open vaginal alit, but continued to stroke the narrow furrow,
digging in underneath the shielding outer lips. She ran the tip of her
finger along the ragged edges of the pale mauve inner lips and touched
the sensitive button of her clitoris. A violent spasm convulsed through
Iris as she felt an alien finger on her most erogenous area. But the
finger remained in place and began to gently stroke the tiny tip,
coaxing it into hardness. Nancy could feel the tip growing under her
touch and continued her massaging, reveling in the sight of the growing
miniature cock. She could see that the outer lips were beginning to
swell with passion -- they assumed a reddish color and began to throb
visibly. She dropped her finger to the viscous opening and probed
tentatively at it, sending fresh shudders spasming through the older
woman. She inserted the tip of her finger inside the moist opening, and
immediately the walls contracted the closed in around her finger and
began an involuntary but rhythmic throbbing movement. She insinuated
her finger further in, and began to swirl it gently around. To her
surprise, this made Iris moan with pleasure -- little whimpers of joy
came from her, and her hips began a slight, but definite, rotation on
the skewering finger.
John was amazed. He was witness of the slight flush which was
spreading over his wife's body, and he could hardly believe his ears
when he heard her begin to whine with pleasure. He released his strong
grip on her legs, and they immediately folded up and tried to encircle
the girl who was laboring between them. Shaking his head in disbelief,
John sat back, happy with his ringside view of the exciting show.
Reluctantly, Nancy withdrew her finger from the tempting hole, and
began to massage Iris's inner thighs. The withdrawal elicited gasps of
outrage from Iris but she was somewhat mollified by the sensuous
caresses which Nancy was lavishing on her thighs. Then, Nancy pushed
the thighs further apart, and pressed back on her knees, so that Iris's
legs were raised up and Nancy had a better view and closer access to her
womanhood.
Slowly, Nancy lowered her head towards the warm visibly pulsating
spot.
"Mmmmmmmm ..." Iris sighed as she felt Nancy's cool tongue make
contact with her involuntarily moistening cunt. Little ripples of
pleasure raced along her flesh, and a sensuous serpentlike writhing
again followed involuntarily. Nancy began to lick at the soft skin, her
tongue swirling here and there, lapping up the delicious cunt-nectar.
The tip probed into every nook and cranny, every hidden crevice of her
cunt, searching, seeking, drawing out every last drop of seeping vaginal
honey. It played with the burgeoning bud of her clitoris, tantalizing
it. It darted into the roseate cuntal opening, which blossomed open
like a flower over the darting organ. Nancy surged forward, her tongue
working frantically, twirling, slashing inside the older woman's now
steaming depths. Deeper and deeper it plunged, lashing around in her
hungrily contracting vaginal sheath. On and on she slavered, plowing
her frenzied tongue in and withdrawing it out again, making wet sluicing
sounds as it plopped out. She ran the length of it down to where the
little anal mouth lay hidden, and dabbed at the tiny puckered nether
entrance. The strange sensation made her clench her smooth buttock
spheres together but the ubiquitous tongue found its way and began to
brush teasingly over the clenched mouth of her rectum.
Her hips began to wave in time to the probing rhythm of the organ
digging into her, and the ripples gave way to great waves of tumultuous
pleasure. She closed her eyes, giving her body over completely to the
torrential ecstasy. God, she had no idea it would be as good as this.
The thought that this was depraved, this enjoyment of a little girl's
body crossed Iris's mind, but she blanked it out. All that really
counted was the delicious pleasure that this girl-child was giving to
her hungry love-denied cunt. The sensations that swept through her at
the tantalizing swipe of the girl's tongue were greater than she had
ever experienced before. The maddening lashes were whipping her into a
maniacal frenzy and with superhuman strength she tore her arms away from
Carla's imprisoning grip and flung them down on Nancy's head.
Desperately, she pushed the girl's head down even further between her
legs. She could feel Nancy's hot breath explode from her body and pour
into her widened vagina, adding to her tremendous pleasure. She raised
her knees up even further and clasped the girl around the sides of her
head, imprisoning her even more securely.
Nancy's entire face was now covered by Iris's voracious cunt and
the warmness of the woman's body heated her own flushed visage. She
could feel Iris's hands digging into her head, pushing her down and she
thought she would suffocate. But she kept on slavering, her reptilian
tongue working furiously, lewdly inciting the older woman to even
greater abandon.
John was mesmerized by the scene. He had no idea that the depraved
act would affect his wife so much. He had never seen her like this, not
even in the throes of their most uninhibited lovemaking. A momentary
pang of jealousy stabbed him but he suppressed it. After all, who was
he to deny his wife her pleasure, whatever way she found it,
particularly in view of the way he had found his? So he contented
himself with being an audience to the perverted scene, his eyes fixed
with a glassy stare, anxious not to miss a single second of it.
Carla, too, was hypnotized by the lewd slavering. She was well
acquainted with Nancy's active tongue, and watching the older woman
being favored with its thrilling touch, she felt herself cheated and
wanted to feel the same pleasure that it was obvious Iris was feeling.
She could see that Iris needed no restraining grasp from her so she
was going to take her pleasure where she could find it, too.
Her attention was drawn to the madly flicking tongue of Iris,
darting out, trying to coat her parched lips with saliva. Her mouth was
half open, and her eyes were rolling crazily in her head, and she was
tossing from side to side, her hands locked tightly, in Nancy's hair.
Bending over, Carla reached out and touched one of Iris's bouncing
breasts. She felt it stiffen under her touch and the nipple leaped into
longitude, pulling the brownish surrounding skin with it, making it
wrinkle and squirm. She toyed with the other bud, pulling and tweaking
it until it, too, jutted out from the golden flesh of her breast.
Lowering herself still further, she closed her mouth over one of
the flushed buds, and began to suck fiercely on it.
The new sensation sent streaks of ecstasy rocketing through Iris
and her mind was lost in a lustful daze of pleasure. She didn't know
who was sucking and licking her breasts and she didn't care. The,
important thing was that they were getting attention, and what
attention!
Carla trapped the burgeoning bud in her mouth, holding it with her
teeth, and wrapping her lips around her breast, until almost half of the
firm fleshy mound was buried in her mouth. Then she began to tease the
incarcerated nipple, biting at the areola, and flicking her tongue into
the tip.
Iris writhed from this incredible new feeling, and tried to push
her chest up to enclose more and more of her twin orbs in that delicious
velvety mouth.
Carla's hair hung down and grazed delightfully against her body,
trailing in the deep cleft of her breasts, and tickling her sides.
Carla released her tit and started to trace a hot wet snaillike path
over her whole upper body. She slavered over her throat, her neck, her
ears, until finally, she came to Iris's lips.
Iris blanched. She didn't know if she could take this -- a woman's
lips fully on hers, but she didn't have time to decide. Carla was
pressing her full lips down on the older woman's, and began to kiss her,
a long deep soulful kiss. Gently, Carla pried Iris's teeth apart, and
inserted her tongue into the warm cavern of her mouth. Carla's tongue
darted forward, and finding Iris's inert organ, began to challenge it,
until involuntarily, Iris's tongue rose up and began to dance with
Carla's. The two organs entwined, and they swirled around and around.
Iris felt her head twirling with her tongue. This kiss was like nothing
she had felt before. She wanted this girl's tongue down her throat.
She began to suck it in, trying to draw it entirely into her mouth,
while her own tongue fenced madly, dashing back and forth, playing with
the other. Then she reversed it. Iris insinuated her tongue into
Carla's mouth, and pressed forward, making Carla gag from the pressure
of Iris's tongue pulsating against her larynx.
Then, to Iris's dismay, she felt Carla withdraw and move away from
her. Disappointment crowded in on her and tears started to form in her
eyes.
But suddenly, a weight descended on her face and she felt her
breath cut off and her vision darkened. Something warm, moist,
clinging, was on her face. It was Carla! For a moment, Iris was put
off-guard by the sweet fragrance of Carla's cunt -- it smelled of
beautiful roses, and the softness of it clung tantalizingly to her face.
She felt Carla settle herself over her, burying her nose and mouth in
her cunt.
Gingerly, Iris extended the tip of her tongue and it flicked
briefly at the tender outer area. Carla flinched from the wonderful
touch and Iris, encouraged by her reaction, reached her tongue out again
and swept it along the full length of the young furrow.
"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh ..." Carla sighed, her hands falling to caress
Iris's upper face and hair.
Iris's tongue swept out and began to kiss the soft feathery down on
Carla's pubes, leaving it wet and slick like a kitten that has just been
washed. She tripped her tongue along the outer lips, tasting her
pungent woman-odor, and licking at the tender inner folds. Her tongue
found the crinkled edges of her fine little lips, and sucked on the
minute fringes. She dabbed at the tiny clitoris, nestling just below
the dark curtain of hair, and teased the very tip, feeling it already
beginning to stiffen. Her tongue roamed around, testing her and
searching there, until it found the petallike flower of her cunt. It
flicked at the sensuous opening and Carla gasped and sighed above her,
grinding her hips down over Iris in a desperate attempt to suck the
organ into her inner cuntal depths.
Iris reamed her tongue forward, slicing into the wet, open pussy
flesh. It jumped around inside her cunt, slashing and poking at the
hidden walls, the dark and secret corners of Carla's cunt.
Iris had never believed that orally fucking another woman could be
so heavenly as this. At the same time, the intense tongue fucking she
was getting below incited her to greater action, striving to give Carla
the magnificent satisfaction she herself was getting. She felt an
overwhelming love and desire for these two beautiful young girls, and
she wanted to lave their bodies with her own love juice.
So she slaved on, her tongue working like a demon possessed of a
will of its own, and she was rewarded by the frenetic jerking of Carla
above, who was writhing and twisting, caught in the whirlwind of a
tremendous joy.
Opening her eyes, she saw that Carla's eyes were squeezed shut.
Her beautiful face was flushed and her mouth was opening and closing
like a bellows. Her small breasts, terminating in unbelievably crimson
points were dancing with the force of her thrashing. A thin trickle of
sweat was running down the valley of her breasts to her navel where it
disappeared in the little hole.
Her taut stomach was pounding in and out, and a faint sheen of
perspiration covered the entire smooth plain. Her dark pubic curls,
sparse as they were, were still damp from her ministrations, and Iris
could see the cords standing out on the girl's thighs, so tightly was
she clasping at her head.
Iris could feel Nancy's hands digging into her asscheeks, and her
cunt felt numb from the drubbing it was receiving from Nancy's young
voracious tongue.
Iris felt her own hips begin to jerk like a whiplash, and suddenly
her entire body took up the dance, and she was flailing like a dervish.
An overwhelming tide of pleasure washed over her and spasm after spasm
of convulsive rapture shook her body. Gurgles of insane shrieks tried
to escape from her throat but the words caught and blew unheard into the
wide splayed cunt of the girl sitting on her face. But then, as surely
as if she'd said it herself, Iris heard:
"I'm cuuummmiiiiinnnnggggg!!" It was Carla, and she began to pound
her loins even more brutally into Iris's gasping face, until she thought
she would be broken into bits.
Through her satiated eyes, Iris could see Carla's arms waving
akimbo, and her body was thrashing and spinning out of control. Her own
body still twitched from the last licks which Nancy was administering,
and the madly cavorting figure of Carla pulled Iris over until all three
of them were writhing in unadulterated passion, arms and legs and cunts
and mouths entwined, until they all finally lay still, the warm juices
of their orgasms still flowing from their womanly orifices.
Chapter 8
Slowly, sanity returned to Iris's lust-depraved mind. Her body
felt sticky and hot and it was with an effort that she managed to drag
her frame up off the ground. She was aware of John standing over her,
staring at her. He had been enthralled by the lewd sight of the three
naked women fucking each other, and he was only just recovering from the
spellbinding sight.
The two girls were swimming off the outward evidence of their lust,
and were romping around like water babies, and just as innocent.
She stared back at the triumphant stare of her husband, and then,
averting her eyes, she struggled into her dress. Turning her back on
him, she limped into the forest, where she found her horse waiting.
She rode slowly back to the house, her cunt still sore from the
intense oral fucking she had experienced. Her thoughts were full of the
two girls. She was surprised at her own reaction to their lovemaking --
it had never occurred to her that she could be aroused by female sex.
And yet, here it was. She had been awakened like she had never been
before!
She thought about John, remembering how she had come upon him and
the girls naked in the woods. He had been giving them lessons, all
right, but not in swimming, she thought.
Approaching the house, she was surprised to see a strange car in
the driveway. It was a large luxurious limousine, and she could see
somebody, who looked like a chauffeur, sitting inside it. Feeling
worried, she turned the mare out in the paddock and hurriedly walked
toward the house, trying to smooth down her wrinkled shift and shake the
brambles out of her hair.
She went directly into the office, and stopped short when she saw a
tall, strikingly handsome man seated in there, leafing through a
magazine.
He stood up when she came in, and smiled at her, a dazzling smile
which transformed his face from merely handsome to totally sensual.
"I'm Peter Stafford," he said, extending his hand. "You must be
Mrs. Harrault."
"Yes, I'm Iris Harrault," she stammered, shaking his hand.
"I've heard a lot about you," he went on. "Carla wrote and told me
that she is really enjoying camp this year, for a change!
Carla! Her numb brain shouted, then this must be her father! Good
God, what does he know? Did she tell him?
"Carla tells me that she has really grown up in the last few
weeks," he went on in his smooth sophisticated voice. "It looks like
quite a place you've got here!"
"I-I'll show you around if you like!" she said, avoiding his eyes.
Grown-up! she thought dazedly. Does that mean that she told him
everything about John, and that he's here to take her away -- and God
knows what else? Her confused thoughts rambled on, as she lead him out
of the office. She knew that Mr. Stafford was a very influential man,
being a magazine publisher, and that if they could only get a good
recommendation from him, their financial troubles would be over and the
future of the camp secure.
"How is Carla, incidentally?" he asked, stopping, halfway down the
drive, and looking at her intently with piercing blue eyes.
"She -- she's fine," Iris mumbled.
"I had some business in Albany, and I thought I'd drop by here and
say hello, on my way back to New York. Is she around?"
"She's at the lake; she'll be back in an hour or so," Iris
answered, her face beet red.
They walked around the immediate grounds, and Iris showed him the
buildings and stables.
As they walked back towards the house, Stafford said:
"You know, it seems like a great place here! I think I'll tell my
friends about it so their kids can get the benefits that Carla has!"
Iris could contain herself no longer. She burst into harsh,
racking sobs which tore themselves from her very core.
Stafford was surprised, but immediately took the situation in hand.
"What is it, Mrs. Harrault?" he asked, "is it something I said?"
"N-nooo ..." she blubbered, clutching at his lapels.
He put an arm reassuringly around her, trying to soothe her, and
they walked back in the direction of the house.
Chapter 9
When they reached the house, Iris turned to him.
"Would you like a drink?" she asked, tears still streaming down her
face.
"Sure!" he answered enthusiastically, his arm still protectively
curled around her shoulder. "I'll just go tell Jason, so he can stretch
his legs."
Iris waited at the front door, as Stafford walked over to the
limousine. After a minute, Jason got out of the car, and Iris was
surprised to see how tall, and how alike he was to Stafford. After
another minute, Jason ambled off down the wooded drive, and Stafford
joined her at the front door. She lead him out to the summer porch, and
he settled himself comfortably on one of the wicker chairs.
Iris went out to fix the drinks, leaving Stafford alone.
A sophisticated man of the world, Stafford was able to immediately
discern that when a woman appears, flushed, her lips red and swollen,
her hair and dress in disarray, it can mean only thing -- she has just
been fucked. He was sure he was not wrong about Iris, and her sudden
bursting into tears seemed to him to be a confirmation of his
assumption.
He figured it must have been someone other than her husband, or
else she wouldn't be so distraught over it. No wonder, Carla is so
enthusiastic over this place, he laughed to himself, fully aware of his
daughter's penchant for eavesdropping and peeping into open doors and
windows.
Just then Iris re-entered. She was looking a lot better. Her hair
was brushed and her tears had disappeared. She brought in a bottle of
Scotch, a pitcher of water, and glasses with ice.
She poured a liberal amount of Scotch for them, and offered the
water to Stafford. He refused, smiling, and she decided to drink it
straight also. Her good spirits were returning and the sight of this
handsome man in her front porch made her feel decent, and somehow
respectable again.
"Just what is it you do, Mr. Stafford?" she asked, turning her
attention to him again.
"For a start," he answered, "call me Peter. I don't feel old
enough to be called Mr. Stafford by such a lovely young woman as
yourself!"
Iris blushed from his casual compliment, and was sorry she hadn't
spent more than a minute tidying herself up. She was beginning to relax
more, feeling quite certain that Carla had not mentioned to him the real
reason for her sudden maturity, and she was enjoying the company of a
suave sophisticated man.
"My company," he went on, "Publishes six different magazines," and
he explained the inner workings of the publications, several of which
were high fashion monthlies.
It sounded very exciting and Iris felt drab in her workaday dress
and even more uninteresting when she mentally compared her life's work
with the occupation of this fascinating man.
They chatted freely, and Iris helped herself to more of the potent
Scotch. Ordinarily, she couldn't touch more than a sip, but somehow
today, it seemed just about as strong as soda. Peter also sipped it
liberally as he expansively explained the psychology behind the glossy
fashion magazines.
"So you see," he said airily, "the conspiracy is all against the
consumer -- you -- the woman on the streets, to make her throw out her
entire mini wardrobe, and start afresh with midis, maxis -- the
longuettes!"
"You mean it's all a trick to rake in more money for the garment
industry, the magazines, the designers?" Iris could hardly believe that
this was the case, he had always thought that those who designed,
advertised and sold clothes always had the best interests of the woman
at heart, always striving to create a more flattering, cheaper, better
garment for her to wear!
"That's just what I mean!" he continued, "as soon as Miss and Mrs.
Everywoman has been completely sold on the latest style of shoe, dress,
pants, coat, and has gone out and bought, bought, bought -- presto! the
announcement is made -- that style is out! And they all fall for it,
like fishes for bait. Year after year. Of course," he added, "I'm not
complaining! It's money in my pocket. The manufacturers will be even
more delighted over this latest push for the longuette -- they feel
justified in charging more for a maxiskirt than they did for a
miniskirt, and the woman feels less cheated paying a higher price
because she figures she's getting more for her money. The factories
were really getting worried, with skirts being no longer than a wide
belt!" He laughed gleefully, and drained his glass.
Iris sat back in a daze. She was shocked by what she had heard --
she felt like throwing out every item in her wardrobe and clothing
herself with leaves and twigs! But the daze was also caused by the
effect of the straight Scotch on her -- she was completely unaccustomed
to imbibing at this noon hour, and she had heedlessly downed several
glasses. Now she was feeling it. Her forehead suddenly felt hot, and
she brushed the back of her hand against her brow to cool the burning.
Her gesture was not lost on Peter, who sat back, watching her. He
liked her and he ran his eye appreciatively over her petite, perfectly
molded frame. He could see her breasts jutting out through the thin
material of the dress and he guessed that they would be just as upswept
without a bra. He saw the firm line of her hip through the shift, and
the curve of her thigh was just visible. She had an air of sensuality
about her which she hadn't managed to shake off when she had "tidied"
herself up, and this slightly muddled air made her more appealing in his
eyes. Living in the city, he felt himself to be slightly jaded of the
perfect not-a-hair-out-of-place girls who abounded in his usual
habitats. He felt in the mood for a taste of naturalness and the
surroundings and his hostess greatly pleased him.
"Are you all right?" he asked, leaning forward slightly.
"Yes, I think so ..."
She started to rise, but suddenly the room swam around her and she
felt herself falling. But she was caught and she didn't reach the
ground and then she felt herself being lifted, and carried. Then she
lost consciousness.
* * *
Opening her eyes, Iris looked around her in amazement. Blinking
them, she tried to focus on the man who was sitting at the edge of the
bed. Yes, she was in bed, she realized, and then gasped when she felt
that she was completely naked! How had she gotten here? Who had
undressed her? Her vision cleared and she recognized the tall man who
was looking at her, an anxious frown on his face. She noticed his dark
hair, attractively framed with gray at the temples, his interesting,
slightly craggy face, his deep blue eyes. She boldly examined his
appearance, seemingly unconscious of the fact that he also was alive and
staring back at her. Timidly, she pulled the blanket up to her chin,
and then with great effort, managed to sit up.
"W-what happened?" she whispered.
"I guess you fainted, and I brought you in here," he replied. "Can
I get you anything?"
"No, I don't think so!" she said, sinking back against the pillow.
"Wait," she said, "would you bring a damp towel -- my forehead is
burning!"
He disappeared into the bathroom immediately, and then Iris relaxed
when she felt the iciness of the wet towel being pressed against her
perspiring brow.
"Mmmmm," she said, "thank you so much. It feels wonderful!"
"You're welcome," he said, leaning his face close to hers.
Suddenly, his mouth was on hers, and he was grinding down on her, in a
tight passionate kiss. She was mildly surprised but she did not resist.
His kiss felt so good. Her tiredness and achiness slipped away from her
and she felt her lips responding to his throbbing kiss. She could feel
his breath pouring out of his nostrils and warming her face, and she
reveled in the feeling. She strained her lips up against his, clinging
to them as best as she could terrified lest he stop kissing her.
His hand was resting on her naked shoulder, the wet towel
forgotten. His other hand began to stroke her hair, her neck, her
shoulders. She quivered under his light expert touch, and she reached
up and encircled him in her arms, pulling him down on her.
She felt his tongue parting her lips, and she willingly yielded,
and then his tongue slipped inside her teeth, and joyfully united with
hers. The lingual organ felt warm and strong, and its very masculinity
sent thrills through her.
"Oh, Iris ..." he sighed ...
He began to kiss her all over -- hot suctioning kisses that pulled
and clung to her skin, leaving little red blotches. He slowly drew back
the blanket and exposed her naked body to his stare. He gazed
appreciatively down at her golden form -- greedily drinking in the mold
of her natural upswept breasts, the smooth line of her waist fanning out
slightly to well-covered silky hips, descending to satiny thighs. His
gaze came to rest on the dark shimmering triangle of her pubic bush, and
she felt a burning there from the intensity of his stare.
Peter felt his prick begin to pulsate feverishly as it grew along
his leg, forcing itself heavily against the material of his pants. He
felt the blood-inflated head burning into the flesh of his inner thigh
like a red hot poker. As he gloated over the sensuous curves of her
body, his lust-hardened prick began a hot throbbing which was growing
into a steady ache.
He reached for her and his hands closed over her shoulders and her
skin felt soft and firm at the same time. He momentarily expected her
to try and draw away, but he could sense her straining against him,
trying to push her body into his hands. He stared at her breasts in the
sunlight and the tantalizing flesh glimmered like bronze sculptures.
Reaching down, he brushed one pink bud with his lips and it seemed to
increase and harden and turn a deeper shade. The very tip was a blood
red color and he enveloped it in his mouth, swallowing half the soft,
resilient flesh at the same time, and Iris emitted a sudden gasp as the
fleshy nipple swelled even more against the sharp edges of his teeth.
He ran his hands over her back and down over her slender waist, and
his fingers closed on the satiny orbs of her buttocks which were set
enticingly high beneath her small waist. Her entire body trembled under
his touch, and his fingers transmitted its pliancy, its lack of
resistance to his delighted brain.
She was staring up at him with half-closed eyes, and she didn't
fail to see the growing bulge between his legs. Her body was aching
with desire very nerve ending was quivering with longing and she wanted
this man -- this stranger -- to fuck her, yes, fuck her, right here in
her own bed! She didn't care that her own husband and his daughter
might come in at any moment and catch them in their forbidden passion --
all she wanted was his arms around her, his prick in her, ramming all
the way up deep into her belly.
The abuse she had suffered at the hands of her husband during the
past few weeks had drawn her attention to certain facets of her
personality -- there were certain, murky things which attracted her,
that she liked, that she responded to. And being fucked by a veritable
stranger was one of these things! She was no longer ashamed of her
secret desires. If she was going to be able to tolerate her husband's
infidelity at all, she would have to look deeper into herself and find
compensations. And that's what I'm doing, she thought as she watched
Carla's father fumbling with his shirt and then he cast the garment from
his back. Iris admired his broad chest, and was attracted by the dark
hair which covered its entire surface, all the way down to the navel.
As he unzipped his fly, and rolled down his pants, she could see the
darkness of hair continued all the way down. Then as he eased off his
shorts, his cock, already in the advanced stages of tumescence, soared
into view, freed at last from the prison of his pants. It swung up like
a giant pillar knifing the air, the bulbous head shining an iridescent
purple. She drew in her breath at the sight of its full length, and its
unusual circumference. She wondered for a fleeting moment if she could
take it all inside her vagina, and then she knew she didn't really care.
It didn't matter if it only went halfway in, she wanted it inside her.
She had to have it!
His hand trailed down the sweeping curve of her hips and came to
rest on the soft ebony triangle. His fingers buried themselves in the
velvety folds of her cunt, feeling the palpitating lips swollen and wet,
waiting for him.
She flexed her hips forward, thrusting her eager pussy onto his
fingers, and she gasped aloud as he searched and wormed them through the
gleaming wet walls.
Then he lowered himself over her and began kissing the soft,
resilient mounds of her breasts once more, teasing and taunting the
rubbery nipples to greater erection with an almost brutal pressure of
his lips.
She trembled with delight, whimpering softly, as his hands moved
freely over bar body, exploring every curve and twist of her smooth
flesh. His mouth followed his hands, his tongue flashing out, coating
erogenous areas here and there, probing at the tiny orifice of her
navel. She pushed his head down, her hands clutching wildly at his
head, until his tongue was rooting through the curly mop of pubic hair,
and then found the tumescence of her clitoral bud, and gathered the tiny
tip in his mouth. The flesh of her cunt was smooth and silky, her very
willingness increasing his desire for it, and he licked and sucked at
the fragrant split with relish.
Peter's prick was a throbbing mass of burning sensation and raising
his head, he pulled himself up slightly, and, using his knees to lever
her trembling thighs apart, he placed the full length of the stiffened
organ against her willing crotch. He felt her squirm back from the
hardness of it, and he flexed his hips, accustoming her soft silky flesh
to the stiffened rod.
Slowly, he took the bloated shaft of flesh in his hand and guided
the inflated head towards the gleaming entrance to her willing body. He
hesitated there for a moment, pressing slightly against her tight,
throbbing cuntal hole.
"Oh, put it in ... please fuck me ... please fuuuccckkkkk me ...
Peter ...!" she shrilled, and leaning her hand down, she grabbed the
thick pole and rammed forward with it, impaling herself like a butterfly
on the hardened cock flesh.
Peter sensing her urgency, surged forward and sunk the instrument
to the very hilt in her cavernous sheath.
"Oh ... oh ... oh ... oh ... it's so goood ..." she sighed,
thrusting up her buttocks to skewer herself even more on his manhood.
He sliced through her cuntal passage until the large tip came to
rest gently on her cervix.
He lowered his hands, and cupping the soft resilient moons of her
ass, raised her crotch up even more, and pressed forward, grinding
around the entrance to her womb. The unexpected and novel contact made
her catch her breath, and then she began to squeeze like a tiny bearded
mouth with her cunt, contracting in and out, sucking hungrily on the
hardened shaft imbedded deep in her belly.
Iris's body jackknifed against him with the electric contact of his
penis against her womb; her whole being began to oscillate wildly and
she began to moan in wild cadence. She ground up against him as he bore
down into her, and suddenly, she reached up with her arms and pulled his
face down on hers. This time, she forced open his teeth and shoved her
willing tongue into his mouth. Together, their organs danced a lewd
dance, whipping up saliva which flew from their working mouths like surf
from the sea on a windy day.
She raised her legs and spreading them out wide, obscenely locked
them around his back and she returned thrust for deep thrust, rising up
completely from the bed, hanging from him like a baby monkey.
His cock sawed mercilessly in and out, plowing forward all the way
until their dark pubic hairs entwined and were indistinguishable, and
she felt his balls smack soundly against her upraised ass crevice, and
then he drew it slowly out, and he could feel the warm, fleshy ridges of
her cunt clinging to it, and looking down, he saw the ragged edges, pink
and moist, as they stuck to his burgeoning cock.
His hands kneaded her buttocks furiously, digging into the soft
flesh. Suddenly, his fingers dipped and trailed along the widely
stretched crevice, searching for her hidden anus. Suddenly, he found
it, and she jerked away, his maddening probing more than she could take.
His fingertip found the tiny working nether ring and again, began to
insinuate itself into the tight opening, past the restricting sphincter
muscles.
She shrieked at the initial pain when his finger slipped past the
vainly resisting rectal mouth, and began to worm further up into heir
soft rubbery depths. But there was now no more pain -- her husband's
brutal rape of days past had stretched her rectal passage forever. She
began to enjoy the feel of his finger tunneling in there and she screwed
her buttocks down on the burgeoning finger, delighting in the double
impalement.
His finger and cock began to screw into her with long rhythmic
strokes, until her body was buffeted between the two skewers, and she
could feel them brush against each other through the thin dividing
membrane separating the twin passage down between her legs. The double
fucking carried her body to the heights of passionate abandon, and her
skin rippled with the sheer wanton quality of it. She was being fucked,
and was fucking back, like a madwoman. Banished were all thoughts of
her husband and what had happened by the lake -- she no longer cared
that she had made love with this man's daughter and now he was making
love to her. Her body was striving to reach the shattering climax she
could feel building up in her.
And yet, suddenly, every muscle in her body froze. All feeling
ceased, as she strained her ears to catch the sound she had heard.
Footsteps! Someone was coming in the room! Paralyzed, the blood rushed
from her face, and she felt stone-cold.
The person was in the room now, and she momentarily expected to
hear the barrage from whoever it was. But nothing happened. Instead,
she felt something brush by her face. Opening her eyes, she looked up
and saw a cock, long and rangy, fully erected, just a few inches away
from her eyes. For a moment, she just stared at it, taking in its long
proportions, its steellike rigidity. Then, it surged forward, and the
head was positioned at her mouth. She raised her eyes, and looked up at
the man who was standing over her. It was Jason, the chauffeur! For a
moment she was confused -- so much did he resemble his boss that if it
weren't for the still insistent fucking she was receiving below, she
would have thought it was Stafford. Without thinking, she slipped out
her tongue and began to lick joyously at the strange new prick. Extra
shivers of pleasure coursed through her lust-perverted senses as she
tasted the piquancy of this stranger's prick. She wanted this cock in
her mouth -- she wanted to suck it until he spurted his seed into her
mouth at the same time that the other stranger at her loins emptied his
hot scalding semen into her. The knowledge of her own carnal defilement
heightened her already unbelievable pleasure. She raced her warm wet
tongue along the long prick, and brushed and grazed around the base,
where his wiry pubic hairs tickled her tender facial skin. Then she
slipped her tongue up to the widening head, and split the tiny slit at
the top with her tongue. She withdrew her tongue for a moment, and
began to coat his balls with her saliva, stretching her mouth to enclose
as much of them inside her as possible.
Stafford, sweat pouring from his steaming face, looked at the
depraved sight with delight. Jason had timed his entry perfectly --
Iris was so excited and lust-craven that she couldn't wait to sample an
extra prick! He continued his wanton fucking into her willing cunt and
the room resounded with the sounds of their three way fucking.
Iris continued to manipulate Jason's cock, to squeeze and jerk his
penis with her mouth. The beat made Jason squirm and toss, and he
lowered his hands and grabbed Iris's breasts, a mooring in the storm of
his passion. She continued to lick along the cordlike ridge of his
balls and then trailed her tongue back over his wet, glistening shaft to
its burgeoning head, then she slipped her lips once more over its lust-
hardened dimensions.
She sucked its length inside her mouth until she could feel the
head pressing hard back against her throat, but still she strove to
swallow even more of it. She raised her hands up and began to knead his
balls, her forefinger and thumb pressed into the wide base, where they
squeezed automatically at the very foundation of his manhood.
Jason began to utter animalistic grunts of pleasure, and couldn't
take his eyes off the ovalled lips of this strange woman, as she
expedited her sucking on his cock, absorbing it to its hilt in her
mouth. Shudder after shudder convulsed him as he felt the power begin
to build up in his balls, and he groaned as passion dynamited from his
loins and exploded in his whole being.
Iris sucked furiously as the first shower of Jason's sperm
volcanoed into her larynx. She swallowed and gulped the hot shooting
jets of spray as if she were dying of thirst. Jason jerked and twisted
and began to ram his prick even further down her throat. He continued
to spew his hot semen into her, the fiery liquid burning and
intoxicating her like no alcohol ever could. Little moans escaped her
as she sucked and pulled on his prick, and she was unable to swallow
some of the precious seed because of the rapid cascade down her throat,
and she could feel it trickling out the sides of her mouth, down her
cheeks, and down onto the bed. Jason continued to fuck into her face as
if he were making up for what was lost. Her lips were convoluted around
his prick just below the head, and her teeth grated along the narrow
tube under the rod through which the life-giving sperm flowed, trying to
hurry them along on their journey.
A moan of disappointment escaped her as she felt his cock begin to
deflate in her mouth but still she would not let it go. She held onto
it for all she was worth, hoping for more, and when she realized that
she had drained him, she finally allowed the flaccid member to slip from
her mouth. She moaned again as she saw Jason stagger away from the bed,
sorry that she was only being fucked by one man again.
Then a low masculine growl sounded in the room. She found herself
battered like a boat in a storm, and down between her widespread legs,
she felt Peter furiously pounding his spewing cock into her. She was
striving, reaching for her own cataclysmic earthquake, and she found it
...
"AAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHHHH!" she shrieked, her body plummeting and
plunging like a bouncing ball.
"I'm cuuuummmmiiiiinggggg!!" she shrieked again and again. Her
head flailed from side to side, and her arms clenched his neck tightly.
Her hips thrashed and bucked up against hits and her buttocks screwed
down insanely on his finger until it was completely imbedded in her
anus, right down to the flat of the palm.
She felt his hot scalding sperm shooting far up into her womb, and
the boiling liquid burned into her depths, sending fresh frenzied spasms
skyrocketing through her. Her cunt milked voraciously at his deflating
cock, and the semen was already beginning to flow from her widely
expanded cuntal channel. Finally she lay still, and Peter collapsed
over her, his soft prick slipping easily from her sperm flooded pussy.
He extracted his finger with a wet plopping noise from her anus and she
felt a curious emptiness as her twin genital passages were both vacated.
But her being was satiated, and she dozed off, her pussy dripping with
the cum of one stranger, and her mouth filled with the sweet, pungent
taste of the semen of another.
* * *
Later, when all three had satiated their seemingly endless lust
still further, in all different ways and combinations, they showered and
dressed, and were quietly drinking coffee when John returned.
Carla was delighted to see her father, and regaled him with happy
accounts of all the wonderful times she was having -- the horse rides,
the swimming lessons, how nice her best friend Nancy was, how marvelous
John and Iris were, while John and Jason wandered off together,
instantly friends.
Iris held her breath while they were all together -- she was
terrified that Carla would tell her father, intentionally or otherwise
about the debauchery in the woods. But Carla was too entranced with her
own freedom and the pleasure she derived from John's body to spoil it
all, and she only elicited a promise from her father to allow her to
come back to Endwood the following year.
Mr. Stafford parted several hours later, happy in the knowledge
that his daughter was enjoying camp life, and warmed by the memory of
the hospitality he and Jason had received from Mrs. Harrault. He
renewed his promises to try and secure new business for the camp, and
Iris felt that his visit had really been worthwhile for all of them.
Chapter 10
John glanced at the clock beside his bed, and saw that it was 7:30
a.m. He got up and dressed hurriedly. He was glad to see that Iris was
not up yet, and drank a leisurely cup of coffee in the kitchen. Since
they had gotten separate bedrooms, he didn't see much of her at all.
They met once or twice a week to discuss accounts, etcetera, but the
only other times they encountered each other was by accident.
It was nearing the end of the season, and it had been a very good
one. Several more girls had arrived, due to Carla's father's promotion,
and they had a promise of twenty girls, their full capacity, for next
summer. Although the workload at the camp had increased with the new
arrivals, their future was secure and John felt that his limited amount
of free time was balanced by the security.
At about eight, he left the house, and began to walk towards the
paddock. He noticed that two of the horses were missing and grinning
salaciously to himself at the implication of it, saddled one of the
others.
It was a beautiful morning and he trotted down toward the lake.
The woods were as fresh as usual, and the birds were singing drowsily,
wakening themselves with their song. He reflected on the events of the
past few weeks. Naturally, he was glad that the camp was on firm ground
financially and he was grateful to Carla's father for his help in
securing clients. He wondered if she had said something to make him
really work on encouraging people to send their girls to Camp Endwood,
but she never said anything about it.
He was sorry that things had worked out the way they did with Iris.
He missed her at times, although he had given up trying to patch things
up. He had been surprised when she gave in to his hints about his
determination to keep on seeing the girls, and had actually tacitly
agreed to turn the other way when she saw the three of them riding off
together.
As he approached their place of rendezvous, he heard the girls'
happy shouts as they splashed around in the water. Dismounting, he ran
down to the shore, and began to tear off his clothes. He ran into the
cool water and the three of them frolicked around in the lake, playing
and teasing each other. Then, when they had tired of their games, they
all waded out, holding hands, and collapsed on the beach in a laughing
heap.
As usual, John's prick was beginning to grow rapidly and he could
feel a soft childish hand caressing it. Looking down, he saw that it
was Nancy who was stroking it so lovingly, and he gently pushed her back
on her back.
He caught her by the ankles and spread her slim legs and settled
himself between them. He cast his eyes over her luscious body, and
thought how she had filled out in the last few weeks. She was no longer
a timid, awkward little girl -- she was a ripened young woman, her body
blossoming almost under his eyes. Her breasts were beginning to grow
more firm, and her hips were rounder and smoother.
She lay back against the soft ground, her face raised to the sun,
her hair almost bleached white. Her fingers trailed along his back,
teasing him, trying to pull him down on her. The sparse young pubic
triangle between her legs was bleached bone white, too, contrasting
strangely with the dark gold of her skin.
Both the girls had all-over tans from their continuous total
exposure to the sun, and Carla, naturally swarthy, was almost nut brown
now.
Nancy's hand was still clutched around his expanding penis, and the
tip of her forefinger played with the opening at the top, taunting it,
the nail slipping into the tight little slit. John lowered himself
between her legs, and began to caress her body with his hand. He felt
her tremble and quiver beneath his touch and her body, perfectly honed
to pleasure from the many hours of practice that she had, was already
beginning to flush.
She guided the head down towards her downy triangle, and began to
lubricate it in the juices which were beginning to trickle from her
willing cunt. The faint pearly pinkness of her treasure gleamed in the
sun, and John could see the eye of her clitoris twinkling through the
white hairs of the swelling furrows.
He could feel the delicate skin of her cunt as it grazed the head
of his cock and his hands continued to play along the smooth contours of
her body.
She raised her knees up and he grasped her firmly by her ankles,
and hoisted a leg over each shoulder, so that they dangled down his
back. He stared at the delicate feminine mystery as if he was seeing it
for the first time. The softness, the many shadings of pinkness, the
faint pulsing of it utterly fascinated him and he licked his lips in
anticipatory glee.
He tested the smooth fleshy head against the contracting folds of
Nancy's cunt, and then gently began to sway forward, trying to insert
its massiveness into the soft unresisting pussy flesh. Tenderly, he
pressed on, until he felt the head slip inside with a gentle whoosh. He
held Nancy securely by her buttocks, his fingers clutching the tender
sun-bronzed flesh. He looked down at her pearly pink cunt edges closing
in around his cock as he began to saw slowly forward, sinking his member
deep up into her molded depths.
Her cunt responded eagerly to his advancing penis, grasping and
sucking it in, her sensitive flesh rippling over the webbed ridgy
surface of it. On and on he reamed until he had imbedded it all in her
sinewy depths. He felt his pendulous balls scrape against her upraised
crotch, and he looked down and saw that their pubic hairs, still damply
curled from their swim, entwined in a curious tangle of black and white.
Nancy's hands were digging convulsively into the soft earth on
either side of her, and her breasts were heaving in passion. Her mouth
was half-open and her eyes were tightly closed. Little droplets of
sweat stood out on her upper lip. Slowly, he withdrew his penis,
watching the greedy velvetlike flesh clinging hungrily to his exciting
cock. When he had withdrawn all but the very top, he plowed forward
again, burying it completely in her once more.
Little moans of joy escaped from Nancy's lips and already her head
was beginning to flail from side to side. He felt the beginnings of a
churning motion in her loins, and the inside of her cunt grasped at his
prick, opening and closing without letup. He forced his hands between
her shoulders and ran them down the soft curves of her back and waist,
and she rippled the ridges of her backbone serpentlike in a slow
undulation. The sinews of her muscles quivered lightly just under the
tanned skin, and he could feel the vibrations resounding through her
from her desperate churning below.
Carla sat watching the lustful scene, her greedy little eyes
riveted on Mr. Harrault's plunging cock. She enviously watched as Nancy
began to writhe and flail beneath him. Carla saw Nancy's hips pound and
batter against his, her legs clutching his neck in a bearlike grip. Her
hands were digging into his neck, and he felt as if his body was being
torn asunder, so strong was her passion incited hold.
A deep animal growl began to murmur in Nancy's throat, and then she
was screaming wildly, her head pounding against the ground, scattering
the dirt and twigs in all directions.
Her cunt clutched and unclutched his penis in a frenetic attempt to
drain it dry in time to the gushing of her own secretions which were
copiously flowing out around it, and she succeeded.
He heard himself uttering harsh snarls of animalistic fury and then
his own hips were bashing against hers. A volcano had erupted in his
balls, and now the white molten lava was speeding along his cock to
burst into the crater of her cunt. Spurt after spurt he sent shooting
into her, and her ever-hungry cunt swallowed every last drop. Long
after she had pumped his cock dry, she continued her maniacal milking
refusing to believe that there was none left. With the whimper of a
sulking child, she relaxed her deathlike grip on him and sunk in a heap
on the ground.
John dozed off, satiated by the beautiful fucking of the young
thirteen-year-old he had just experienced, until he was wakened by what
seemed like insects crawling all over him. Rousing himself, he
attempted to swipe the pests off, but found that they were not insects
-- it was Carla, a curious lustful gleam in her eyes, who was bending
over him, her long hair sweeping and tickling his flesh. A lascivious
grin spread over her face, and John, thinking of his satiated prick,
sighed aloud:
"Oh, no, not again!" which convulsed the girls with laughter.
* * *
Iris, hearing John in the kitchen, decided to wait until he had
left before getting up. Then, when she had drunk a cup of coffee, she
ambled out to the office and did a little paperwork.
Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was eight-thirty, and she
went into the bedroom, and put on a matching shorts outfit. She applied
lipstick and combed her shining cap of hair into place.
Then she sauntered out into the bright morning sunlight, and
humming to herself, walked in the direction of the woods. She breathed
in the fresh morning air, redolent with the scent of many blossoms.
When she had walked for about ten minutes, her face lit up when she
spied a figure in the distance. The figure began to run towards her,
and she in turn, quickened her pace. They reached each other and
embraced warmly. Iris's companion was a young girl, recently enrolled
at camp. Her beautiful long auburn hair gleamed in the sunlight,
sending off red highlights, and her delicately chiseled face lit up with
joy as she walked hand in hand with Iris.
They reached a shady glade, well off the main path, and they sat
down under the shade of an old tree.
Immediately, the girl's hands began to roam over Iris's body,
caressing and squeezing the older woman's flesh. Then she raised her
angelic face to Iris, and Iris responded, pressing her lips down in a
feverish kiss on the younger mouth. The girl's hands began to fumble at
Iris's outfit, tearing impatiently at the buttons, all the while
murmuring terms of endearment, and stroking the glossy cap of hair.
Sighing with pleasure, the girl finally managed to undo Iris's top,
and began to slip it from her. She flicked open her bra, and released
Iris's firm breasts. She cupped them lovingly in her hands, and buried
her head in the warm doughy mounds. Iris breathed in the subtle perfume
of the girl's hair, and the red strands fell over her tanned breasts
creating an intriguing pattern, both of touch and visually.
Iris wrapped her arms around the girl and cradled her, as the girl
began to kiss and fondle her breasts lovingly.
Iris sighed, drifts of warmth soaking through her. As her mind
floated off on a heavenly cloud of unsurpassed delight, she thought
dreamily: "Well, I said I'd take John for better or worse ... and I have
to admit that it was worse, but this is much, much better!"
The End
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