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From: TheEditor <grobert@mail.safepages.com>
Subject: {ASSM} *NEW* Daddy's Little Girls
Date: Thu,  1 Mar 2001 17:10:01 -0500
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<1st attachment, "Daddy's_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.





                          Daddy's Little Girls

                         By Jewel Breckenridge



                                Chapter 1

     She was, after all, only a child.
     As she walked down the arrow-straight road from the school bus
towards home, her head barely cleared the taller hedges and her blonde
hair tossed at her shoulders, one of which was slightly raised from the
effort of carrying her schoolbooks.  She had a light, inoffensive manner
of staring through every gate and through every window which looked
inviting as she stepped along.  The quickness of her glance seemed right
for her pert walk, her smallish, lean frame, her age -- but this quick
gaze was dictated also by the quickness of her mind and temperament.
     Thirteen-year-old Ellen Johnston was precocious, an inventive young
genius, a little dynamo.  Her long blonde hair twirled as she spun her
head for a quick look at anything interesting -- but what interested her
most in this old, familiar Cape Cod neighborhood was not the respectably
stuffy people or the fifty thousand dollar houses so much as the newness
of her own experience.  Ellen was fast becoming a woman, and she was
very much aware of the fact, and aware too of the subtle changes that
were going on inside her slowly maturing body.  When asked her age, she
said she was "going on fourteen," and it was true.  Ellen would be
fourteen in only eight more months.
     Not too far behind Ellen, Roger Johnston swung his big Rolls Royce
around the corner by the school bus stop.  The car was a rich lustrous
black, only a few months old, but already covered with dust.  Inside a
crisp unseen voice droned out the day's predictable news of scattered
wars and disasters which Roger gave only half an ear to.  The interior
of the car reeked of new leather, although it had already acquired an
unkempt look from a back seat covered with papers, a kleenex box broken
and spewing its contents over the rear shelf, and sand, dried mud, and a
forgotten soft drink bottle on the floor.
     Roger valued the quality and prestige of an auto only when he
bought it, seldom giving it a thought thereafter, since to him a Rolls,
no matter how new, was nothing new.  It was checked only when his garage
phoned him to remind him to bring it in.  As forgetful and distracted as
he was these days, he should have had both a chauffeur and a mechanic --
and before long, he probably would.
     While he was so preoccupied by his troubles to give only half an
ear to the news, and not to notice at all the early degeneration of his
car, his eye spotted rapidly the beautiful young blonde girl on the road
ahead of him.  She had on a very short skirt which bounced along with
her walk, revealing every few steps the beginning of the curved, full
rise of her smoothly rounded buttocks clad in what seemed to be pink
bikini panties.  He looked more closely at the spot where the short
skirt sometimes bounced up as he guided the car along behind her absent-
mindedly by instinct.  Yes, they were pink, this little blonde bombshell
had on pink lace bikini panties!  He could even see the tight, firm
cheeks of her almost naked buttocks rise and fall beneath the skimpy
pink cloth, jiggling saucily and invitingly, until he got too close and
could no longer get the right angle.  If only he could slow down without
being obvious!  Now he raised his eyes to the narrow girlish waist and
the delicate curve of her back rising to slender sloping shoulders under
a faded, clinging sweatshirt.
     Johnston came up directly beside the girl and saw now that the
jutting breasts beneath that sweatshirt were bouncing provocatively
together with her walk but not as much as he had expected.  They seemed
taut, firm and youthfully full.  Yes, but not as much as the tightly
revealing clothes, the full hips and buttocks, the long inviting bare
legs, and the long swirling blonde hair would suggest.  The girl must be
very young and, as a matter of fact, those must be school books under
her arm.  But damn was she appealing!  Her stiffened nipples thrust
enticingly far out against the worn material of her clinging sweatshirt.
Jesus!  That he could see!  If only he could slow down, or if only he
were on foot and could follow her; but no, now he was fully past and he
raised his eyes directly to her face and found himself looking squarely
at ... could it be?  ... his own daughter.
     His own daughter!  Holy Jesus Christ!  And he had been looking her
up and down like some cheap whore!  Fortunately she had not noticed him,
looking instead into the yards of the houses she was passing, and he
shifted his gaze and continued driving, badly shaken emotionally.  This
girl whom he had examined as best he could from ankle to breast, on whom
he had allowed his frustrated, sex-starved desires to speculate wantonly
-- this girl was his daughter Ellen, his own child.  Christ almighty!
But she had not seen him and he continued driving.  Perhaps he should
stop -- or should have stopped, to give her a ride the rest of the way
home; but now, thank God, it was too late.
     Roger Johnston guided the dusty Rolls Royce down the long straight
road and into an opening in the hedges which led to his garage.  There
he parked the car, gathered up some of the papers from the back seat,
knocking others onto the floor, and rushed into the house with them.
The house was cool, quiet, and deserted, and he was glad for that since
his present guilt demanded peace and solitude.  He called out his wife's
name perfunctorily, but he knew she would be out on one errand or other.
There was no answer.
     He went up the winding staircase and directly entered his study
where, tired, without giving a thought to changing his clothes, his
hands trembling as they clutched the papers, he sat down at his desk.
Peace was what he needed, and he would just sit now and think the whole
matter through.  He laid the papers down and began to sort through them,
spreading them out before him.  Oh yes, there was the property transfer
for the new fish catcheries, and the rough draft of the prospectus for
the Hyannis hotel which he had to look over -- these things were fairly
reassuring.
     Yet he could not concentrate and his mind drifted until he opened
the cabinet at his side and poured a Scotch, downed it, and poured
another.  This should have calmed him, but instead it merely removed the
last inhibitions in his mind standing between him and direct
contemplation of his young daughter Ellen's lust-inciting body.  His
thoughts returned to the road and the full profile of her full firm
breasts, the swell of her rounded young buttocks rising and falling
invitingly beneath the pink bikini panties as she walked, the gentle
untouched virginal look of her curvaceous body together with her light
skin, her bare arms and legs, her long blonde hair ... He polished off a
third -- and then a fourth -- Scotch, and then the world began to soften
around him.
     Roger suddenly leaped up, raced out of his study and ran shakily,
all the way down the stairs to the basement.  There he found a large
nail and hammer and carried them back up to the study, where he stood
heart thudding, hands trembling, facing the wall separating his study
from Ellen's bedroom.  Despite the influence of the alcohol, which had
now turned him into a different person, his mind still hesitated.  Yet
his hands did not; he held the nail at eye level and pounded through the
wall.  He removed it, blew out the plaster and wood, and yes, there was
a direct view into his daughter's bedroom.  And she would not see the
hole since her walls were finished in a rough knotty pine.
     He returned to his desk and pretended to look at the hotel
prospectus, but he knew he was pretending, really waiting to peek
through the hole.
     There was a noise downstairs.
     As Ellen entered, she too thought the house was empty.  Looking
through the pile of mail and finding none for her, she dropped her books
on a chair and began slowly climbing the circular staircase.  Like her
father, the young teenager had put in a long day and was tired.  She
entered her bedroom next to her father's study, closed the door, sighed,
and immediately started to undress.
     Roger stood with his eye pressed hungrily to the hole he'd just
drilled as his curvaceous teenage daughter pulled her sweatshirt quickly
up over her head, unzipped and dropped the short skirt, and turned
unknowingly to face him as she removed her brassiere.  Her full,
uplifted breasts swayed lushly into naked freedom right before his eyes.
Against the milk-white skin of the proud young breasts her small erect
nipples stood out as inviting pink buds, as cherries only waiting for
someone to pick.  Roger's eyes scarcely had accommodated themselves to
his daughter's quivering white breasts when she slowly peeled down the
sheer pink panties and tossed them onto the floor, revealing a tiny
blonde triangle of sparsely curling pubic hair, at the bottom of which
he could see the start of the gentle fleshy folds of her pussy.  This
was his daughter -- God almighty!  What a body!  What a tantalizing and
unbelievable body!  Young and virginal, but physically a full woman,
perfect in her lush nakedness.
     Ellen was not posing, did not suspect that she was observed, and as
soon as the pink lace panties dropped to the floor she bent immediately
to pick them up, turning her back to the wall, the round trembling
cheeks of her buttocks spreading enticingly as she stooped, revealing
the other end of her thin pink vaginal slit through the curly blonde
pubic hair from the rear, and farther up the shadowy cleavage between
the upturned half-moons of her buttocks, Roger stared heatedly at the
tiny secretive ring of her anus.
     She sprang back to her feet and moved around the room putting her
clothes away.  Her ripely jiggling young breasts popped in and out of
view as she walked about the room, and her firm but fluid buttocks rose
and fell, rose and fell, as they had on the street except now it was so
much more lust-inciting to see them naked.  Roger was sure she was
unconscious of his gaze, yet even so she seemed to like being naked, or
at least not to consider it unusual as she put her clothes away,
straightened up the cosmetics on her dresser, moved to a window to
glance through a crack in the drapes out at the sky and the ocean.
     All the while Roger kept his eyes glued to his daughter's body.
And what a body!  He had never suspected it was this good -- before
today he'd never given it a thought.  Occasionally the alcohol he'd
drunk dimmed his focus, but generally his view of his young daughter's
curvaceous body was extremely clear, as the large straining bulge in
Roger's pants obscenely announced.  He looked at the tender, still
unwrinkled body as it nakedly circled the room, still tanned from last
summer except for the two narrow strips of white from where the skimpy
bikini bathing suit had been.  He watched the round, pliable cheeks of
her smooth young buttocks knead against each other, swaying side-to-side
at the bottom as well as up and down while she walked; he drank in the
upturned spheres of her ripely budding breasts set close together with
the taut pink nipples rising into tantalizing little buds; he studied
voraciously the lips of her virginal cunt which undulated beneath the
sparse blonde triangle as she walked.
     With Roger's eye at the nail hole so full it was popping from his
head, Ellen suddenly pulled a pair of white nylon panties from the
closet and tugged them on, for a moment giving an unwittingly good view
of her entire young pussy.  Then she took a sheer white brassiere,
worked the soft flesh of her breasts into the lacy cups, and forced the
back shut.  As she topped this off with a short, loose-fitting house
dress, her smooth cream-white body already began to fade into Roger's
memory.
     But what did not fade in Roger's mind was the guilt.
     He returned to his desk and passed what he had done over and over
in his mind, unable to think of any excuse or justification for his
behavior.  She was, after all, his daughter!  His own daughter, only a
child!  Yet that body ...
     One excuse in time did occur to him and now sat almost empty at his
side -- his ender of troubles these last weeks -- the bottle of Scotch.
     Roger heard Ellen close the door to her bedroom just as he was
fighting an impulse to check the hole again to see if she was still
fully dressed.  Roger groaned, and forcibly steadying his hands, poured
himself another large, stiff drink, downing it with a shudder.



                                Chapter 2

     Cape Cod was nice in the spring, but as he walked, Roger Johnston
was only partially aware of the green trees on his street, the sounds of
the many birds, and the seagull coasting overhead.  The spring was well
along now, and throughout it Roger had been -- to his credit -- more
aware of the spring than of the fact that he owned a Rolls Royce, yet
this awareness was crushed by his brief look at his young adolescent
daughter Ellen's body.  He had not looked through the hole in the wall
again -- though he had not patched it up, either.
     Still a block distance from the neighborhood grocery, Roger was
intrigued to see Ellen emerge onto the porch of the Green house along
with her boy friend, Mark Green.  They were holding hands as they walked
down the steps, then Mark seemed to look around them to see if they were
observed, not noticing Roger in the distance, and they went toward the
Green garage.  The garage door opened, in went Ellen and young Mark, and
the door silently closed.
     Mark was only fourteen, a tall thin boy, slightly awkward and shy,
and Ellen was only thirteen.  Yet Roger had just seen them with his own
eyes go into the garage and he was genuinely shocked because Ellen was
not even allowed to date.  She called Mark her boy friend, but that only
meant they went to one another's houses and to the beach, under parental
supervision.  Parental supervision!  There seemed to be little of that
at the Green house!  But that's just what he himself would supply, and
he would supply it right now.  First, however he had to make sure his
suspicions were correct.
     Roger scanned the quiet, empty street to see if he was being
observed, then walked to the side of the garage until he was totally
hidden by a row of bushes and the garage wall.  There was a small
window, and he cautiously raised his eyes to it until he could see
inside to where Ellen and Mark, in profile, were sitting next to each
other on a pile of boards about four feet away from the window.  Mark
was saying something to Ellen and she was only smiling in return,
although her long blonde hair tumbled onto his shoulder.  Perhaps this
was not so bad after all; it seemed innocent enough.
     Roger was preparing to leave when he saw Mark suddenly push his
hand up and clumsily grope at one of Ellen's ripening young breasts.
     He saw it!  His daughter being pawed!  And by that conniving young
snipe, Mark Green, who had eaten with them many times, who he'd driven
to the beach, who he'd sat up evenings playing checkers with -- who in
short, he'd trusted.  Roger would walk in right now and paste Mark in
the nose -- but no, Mark was too young.  Better to simply break the two
of them up, and then to later vent his rage verbally on Mark's father,
Jason Green, the car salesman, who Roger couldn't stand anyway.  He was
about to take this course, when taking a last glance in the window, he
noticed his daughter's reaction and it held him spellbound.
     Her lips were parted in passion, and she was gyrating her softly
mounded breasts beneath the young boy's exploring hands.
     Then she reached up and, without further ado, began to unbutton her
blouse as Mark watched with greedy, bulging eyes the wide cleavage of
her young budding breasts come into tantalizing view.  Then Ellen
shrugged her blouse to the ground and it was clear that she -- innocent
Ellen! -- had worn no brassiere.  Had she planned for this outing?  Her
softly swelling young breasts stared out into the garage in quivering,
self-conscious nakedness.
     Roger was shocked beyond words, yet his attention was fully
captivated by the salacious sight of his daughter's taut little breasts,
one of them being gently cupped and massaged by Mark as he fastened his
eyes on the other one and Ellen threw back her head.  Her nipples were
cherry pink, small and nicely shaped, and protruding straight out.  She
took Mark's free hand and forced it onto the other naked breast and now
Mark was kneading the pliant dough of both shamelessly naked mounds,
forcing them together, then flattening them, squashing them, squeezing
them, and churning the sensitive nipple-buds into pebble-hard passion.
Ellen dug her fingers into her boy friend's hair, and forced his head
down until his mouth found one excitedly throbbing little nipple.
     Ellen had done that -- Roger vaguely noted in his mind -- not Mark,
but Ellen; and -- holy Jesus -- Roger could not believe what his
thirteen-year-old daughter was doing now.  She was dropping her hand
slowly downward on Mark's trembling young body, rubbing and pressing
against his chest, playing with her fingers between the buttons in his
shirt, then running her hand down farther and with no formalities
unzipping his fly in a single lewd motion, sticking her hand in, and
greedily pulling out his youthful penis.  In her hand the young boy's
teenage cock was still half-soft, but, as she looked at it with obscene
fascination and experimented, running her fingers over the smooth
rubbery head, then clamping her hand around and beginning to softly
massage it up and down -- it grew ever large and harder.  She was
staring at it, as wide-eyed as Mark -- who had one softly fleshed breast
covered with red marks from his pawing fingers and the other totally wet
from his mouth -- was staring at her passionately heaving breasts.  What
her father didn't know was that she was staring so wantonly because she
had never seen or touched one before and it fascinated her, this
peculiar hard, rubbery device that she now controlled in her massaging
hands but which she well knew was capable of penetrating, of subduing
her virginal body.
     And outside the garage, Ellen's spying father watched the whole
lewd spectacle from the window, beyond all thoughts of breaking it up,
now, for his own guilt came into play -- he was complicit in what was
going on here, he was watching and moreover he was enjoying watching.
Yet his parental feelings were nevertheless bruised when he saw Mark --
on his own and no longer needing prodding from his girl friend -- began
to run his hand searchingly downward over Ellen's innocent body.  His
groping hand reached her bared knee, and Ellen froze momentarily at the
unexpected contact crawling insect-like over her naked sensitive flesh.
     The aroused teenager, unsure, rubbed her knee for a full minute as
though that were his only interest, then his massaging fingers slowly
crept an inch higher.  He continued rubbing, stroking, raising his hand
almost unnoticeably farther up her tapered young leg until he was
sneakily pushing the hem of her short dress.  Soon enough his
relentlessly moving hand was halfway up to the crotch band of her sheer
panties and then it was all the way up and, trembling, reaching for the
soft smooth mound enclosed so temptingly beneath the white nylon panties
up between her legs.  His fingers made tentative contact and Ellen
jerked, but simultaneously she spread her shapely legs a tiny bit to
give him better access.  Mark understood and began to run his fingers
hungrily over her warmly moistened pussy-slit, pushing, and discovering.
Soon he was pressing gently up into her widespread little cunt, but
still separated from her naked pussy by the thin white panties.
     The excited young blonde squirmed away a little as her friend's
middle finger began a gentle stroking motion, pushing the folds of her
skimpy nylon panties into her suddenly throbbing vaginal crevice.  She
sat on the pile of boards with the boy's erect, blue-veined cock clasped
in one hand, and her enticingly curved legs now widening more, relaxing
somewhat to admit Mark's more-persistently probing hand.
     With a lustful lurch, the hand probed suddenly beneath the tight
elastic leg band of the panties, and Roger shuddered watching the
outlines of the boy's searching fingers make contact with his young
daughter's unviolated pussy up beneath the sheer white material.  The
fingers began to stroke, finding a slow teasing rhythm, pressing lewdly
into her thin spread cuntal slit now, as Ellen herself -- head thrown
back in lewd abandon and unaware of anyone -- began, to Roger's shock,
to grind her hips experimentally, and her head began to toss.
     Ellen had done this herself sometimes, but to have someone else
fingering her excited pussy was a new experience, and her young round
buttocks lifted up off the pile of boards, grinding back and forth to
the obscene tempo of the fingers probing tantalizingly up into her
pulsating opening.
     Suddenly Mark pulled his hand away from her impassioned cunt and
peeled down her flimsy panties as far as her knees, then returned his
hand to stroking her hair-fringed furrow also running some extra
explorations over her now nakedly accessible white buttocks.  Ellen
wiggled her long, dangling legs from the wood pile to shake the panties
off the rest of the way, finally succeeding in kicking them forcefully
to the ground.  Her lewdly exposed pussy was in full view to her father
now from the nearby window as the teenager stroked his extended middle
finger up and down her parting blonde-fringed slit which was wet from
the secretions seeping excitedly from Ellen's pouting pink cuntal lips.
The finger slid up as far as the tiny pink bud of her erect little
clitoris, and probed desirously down as far as the very opening to her
virginal cunt.
     Roger's precocious daughter now totally relaxed her full inner
thighs to give the young boy greater access to her slippery cunt, and at
the same time increased the lewd tempo which she so enthusiastically
stroked and jerked his swelling cock in wide-eyed fascination.  With
each obscene stroke the youth's stimulated penis expanded into greater
lust-inflamed hardness, just as Ellen gyrated her hips more, her naked
white buttocks lifting well into the air now in wanton invitation as she
helped Mark skewer his extended middle finger into her tightly resisting
hymen, entering slightly into her narrow unstretched vagina.  She seemed
to like it even though it hurt, and she twisted her blonde-fringed cunt
wantonly around his inserted finger.  She stared shamelessly at the
ever-enlarging cock against which her hand looked like a doll's.  And
then -- her own excitement seeming to egg her on -- she bent her head,
her long blonde hair tumbling around the boyish cock, to get a closer
look, her pussy still thrashing wildly all the while into Mark's cupping
hand, which had the finger now permanently sunk up into her virginal
vagina to the second knuckle, with tiny droplets of blood and her own
eager cuntal secretions running down onto the skewering fingers.
     If the whole scene had shocked Roger from the very start -- from
seeing Ellen traipsing off with a teenager into the garage, to seeing
Mark rub her soft round breast and Ellen respond by excitedly removing
her blouse, to seeing that she intentionally had worn no brassiere
beneath, to watching her blatantly force Mark's head down to suck her
stiffened little nipples then probe into the boy's pants to fondle his
throbbing cock; and above all her own passionate reaction to Mark's lewd
probing of her chaste young pussy -- if this shocked him, it was nothing
compared to what came next!  Roger's own sex life had been practically
nil for sometime.  Occasionally he and his wife did make love, but it
was perfunctory and an unimpassioned performance which left them both
nearly as frustrated as when they began.  There was absolutely no erotic
variation in Roger's sex life with his wife, and there never had been,
not even in their college days when they had first gotten to know one
another.  In the beginning he had tried to push his wife's head down
over his erectly waving penis but she had never taken the hint, or if
she had, she'd promptly ignored it and escaped his grip.  She was seldom
ever willing to lay her hands on his lust-swollen cock, let alone her
mouth.
     And that is now what Roger saw directly in front of him just a few
feet away through the garage window.  His daughter's inquiring eyes and
long blonde hair had tumbled so close to the erect boyish cock in her
hand that she stuck her tongue out experimentally to sample the smooth
texture of the round fleshy head, her tongue thrust yearningly toward
the adolescent's swollen penis.  Ellen shifted her position, to get her
head nearer, which pulled her own cuntal softness from the reach of
Mark's exploring hand.  She lay supine on the edge of the woodpile,
facing the window, her mouth teasing the entire blood-filled length, and
now Mark shifted his own position to be able to continue exploring her
nakedly widespread pussy, leaning his upper body on the woodpile behind
and bringing his hand up through her legs from behind.
     Everything was visible to Ellen's father from the window; he saw
the tiny pink bud of her clitoris twitch and throb with obscene yearning
during the instant Mark had broken contact with her wet cuntal mound in
order to shift position and he saw her, when Mark had regained contact,
lift one leg invitingly high into the air to admit his hand as she began
to purse her lips arid blow her steaming hot breath onto the end of the
quivering fleshy rod.  She blew and blew as the slender boyish cock
stretched hotly for the ceiling.  Then she opened her lips and closed
her mouth suddenly over the smooth bulbous head of the lust-knotted
cock.  Roger could see her soft moist lips pucker as she sucked, and
then loosen as her tongue swirled hungrily around the thick desire-
inflated tip as though she were licking a lollipop.  Mark's young
hairless loins thrust involuntarily upward to hasten the process and
soon Ellen had the entire length of the excited adolescent's penis
enveloped tightly in the warm wet cavern of her mouth.
     The pink inner flesh of her lips was being pulled out and
stretched, as it clung to the flesh of Mark's driving cock while his
daughter sucked hungrily, fully caught up in the lewd task with all of
her teenage concentration.  Her round girlish breasts jerked and danced
obscenely from the effort and her naked young body began to glisten from
the tiny droplets of perspiration forming over the skin.  Mark shoved
his loins up hard against her face in a quest for a final end to the
delicious torture.
     Suddenly Ellen began to rotate her pelvis wildly, to skewer her boy
friend's middle finger deeper and deeper up into her tight innocent
vagina, until she raised her buttocks entirely off the pile of boards,
grinding the firm half-moons wildly as she gyrated with still more
abandon, emitting a low groan from deep in her throat that was nearly
choked to silence by Mark's penis thrusting into her mouth.  She
suddenly froze her buttocks in the air for one perfectly motionless
instant, and then collapsed, quivering spasmodically, back onto the
woodpile, where her legs flailed softly into the air for a moment and
then fell exhausted, limp as butter.
     Understanding, her youthful partner removed his wetly glistening
finger from her shuddering vagina, and Ellen's violated pussy
ecstatically gushed its milk-white secretion mixed with tiny telltale
streaks of blood.  The girl had her first orgasm, or her first orgasm
she had not given herself, and its lust-inciting effect was only to
increase the maddening tempo of her sucking on her boy friend's still
inflated penis to the point that the wetly driving instrument seemed to
ram cruelly all the way down to her tonsils.  The ramming increased to a
staccato fever-pitch as she hungrily licked and sucked in earnest, until
suddenly the rock-hard member began to jerk involuntarily in her
surprised mouth.
     She had done it!
     Mark's exploding penis spurted out its fresh young cum and Ellen
looked astonished, frozen in her position, the boy's cock still sunk in
her ovalled mouth even as his thick white semen began to pour wildly
from the corners of her overflowing lips.  She had not expected this --
she didn't know how a male had his climax and her eyes had almost a look
of terror.  Suddenly she began to choke and force her head loose,
helplessly spitting out the hot sperm, gagging, spitting out more, as
Mark put an arm reassuringly around her and disengaged his inflating
cock from her cum-filled mouth.
     Ellen sat upright now, still spitting, her legs still unthinkingly
spread apart on the woodpile with the large wet stains and streaks of
blood soaking into the wood beneath her buttocks.  It had been a session
of many innovations and discoveries for the teenage girl, and the last
one -- the sea of hot swirling liquid in her mouth -- had caught her
totally by surprise.
     Roger understood his daughter's suffering and wanted to rush in,
calm her as Mark was doing, but that was impossible now.  At this late
moment he could not reveal his lewd role in this affair -- participating
in it, in the effect of not breaking it up at the beginning, and then by
watching it, and finally by enjoying it.  Enjoying his own pretty
daughter being ravished, although it was only by a young boy's finger.
Christ, what had he sunk to?  He had forgotten in the interim that Ellen
was his daughter and only now did the thought rush back to him with its
full impact and make his skin crawl.  He had watched his young tender
daughter being debauched by -- or more accurately, debauching -- a
gangly and rather repelling adolescent.  And in a garage, no less!  In
broad daylight!  The whole thing was just too fantastic!
     The couple inside began to stir; Ellen was wiping her face with a
hanky before she retrieved her clothing and began to dress.  Outside,
her father started to look hungrily again at her body as she moved about
bending to pick up her clothes, but suddenly he checked himself.  He had
to go before they came out of the garage and discovered him, and he
began to move fast, stopping only at the noise of the hedge scraping
against the garage wall in his wake as he passed.  He bent and switched
to tiny steps until he emerged directly into the driveway and, for want
of a gesture he glanced business-like at his watch.  He allowed his eyes
to quickly scan the street as he walked on, and was relieved to find the
street was empty, and no one had seen him.  That, at least, had been
spared him.
     What was he doing on the street?  Oh yes, the grocery store -- and
for that he was walking in the wrong direction.  He did an about-face
and, just as he was ready to pass the Green house again, saw Mark and
Ellen parting with a light kiss on the porch steps.  Mark Green went
inside and Ellen bounded in her father's direction.
     "Hi, Roger," she said to him in passing, tossing her long blonde
hair.
     Roger watched her running ahead of him down the sidewalk until she
disappeared around a hedge at the next corner.  He crowed ... she had
never called him that before.



                                Chapter 3

     The remainder of spring trickled away entirely and now a summer sun
burned over head.  The gulls soared above the gray beach, shrieked to
one another, and then dipped and swooped one by one to land on a large
rock some distance out into the Atlantic as Roger Johnston lay idly
watching.  He was stretched out on a pop-patterned beach blanket his
daughters had given him on his forty-first birthday.  There were other
blankets and other people on the beach, all in a cluster near Roger, but
beyond this small collection the beach was deserted; for the people were
his family -- and the beach was his private property.
     The beach was important to all the Johnstons because in the summer
and sometimes in the late spring and also in the first few months of
fall, he and his family made use of the beach -- together or singly --
every possible moment.  While the Cape was swarming with tourists at the
public beaches, and while most of the middle-class natives went to
restricted beaches owned by -- and thus crowded with -- people from the
local communities, Roger and his family had the luxury of their own
beach.
     It was not large since all Cape Cod beaches, as Roger well knew
from his business, could scarcely be any higher priced than they were
now, even if they had been plated with gold; and Roger was not a
millionaire.  Yet he had picked up this beach, which was at the end of
the peninsula and separated from the nearby community beaches by two
natural cliffs and a string of private piers.  From his beach there were
no other bathers, and scarcely any boats, to be seen.  And as an
additional indulgence he had built their private shelter high up onto
the rise of one of the cliffs, where it sat, three-walled, the open side
facing his stretch of water, like a makeshift castle or monument.  It
was a bit out of the way for them to traipse up there to change, but
they did it, for the cliff was too spectacular not to be used in some
way.
     Cynthia -- Roger's wife -- came down from the cliff shelter clad
now in her bathing suit.  It was a one-piece outfit which did not
facilitate his looking at her body.  Pity, he thought, because he liked
her body.  She had kept a full trim figure, for a woman of forty the
chief feature of which was her voluptuously rounded breasts, but she
kept them fully covered by the prudish one-piece bathing suit, and at
home when she undressed she always turned away so he could not see her
naked curves, much as he loved every inch of them.  He had only sucked
her breasts half a dozen times in his twenty years of marriage.
     He simply was not persistent enough in his physical desires,
strongly as he felt them; and moreover, he was not experienced enough to
know how to be persistent.  Though he did not realize it, Cynthia had a
latent hot streak which a skilled lover could have brought out and
developed to a rich fruitation, but lacking such a lover, she made love
only as a duty.  She comported herself; she was so sexually frustrated
that she was a virtual powder keg of inhibitions.
     Her husband saw only the consequences -- her distant attitude
toward him, her frustration -- and not the causes which he might have
corrected if he had known them or been able.
     Nor did Cynthia know the causes.  The consequences, however, were
so developed that she and Roger lived in separate world, worlds rushing
daily farther apart.
     Yet here she was bouncing along the beach -- her full, wide-set
breasts heaving beneath the confining suit -- to lie on her blue blanket
beside him, a soft curling tendril of wispy pubic hair escaping
unnoticed from the tight leg band of her bathing suit.  She began to
apply her suntan lotion and, in the middle of the process, stopped to
light a cigarette which she then allowed to dangle from her soft sensual
lips.
     She was not the only problem: The other was his business.  He had
begun as an insurance salesman and methodically over the years developed
this modest start into an operation of his own, now employing well
salaried people.  That was the insurance end of the business, ever
expanding, ever demanding more of his time.  In addition, there was the
other end of the business: Real estate.  Combining insurance and real
estate in one company was often seen on the Cape, but for Roger it had
proven an unusually successful formula.
     The real estate branch now sported several new offices and at the
latest count he was paying the salaries and commissions of fourteen
people to run them.  Managing the brokers was not easy, and some were a
bit excessive in the wheeling and dealing they did in Roger's name,
bringing him a string of law suits.  This was his alley -- he was a
lawyer by training -- and he always did get through the suits unscathed
or only lightly damaged.  Yet they grated on his nerves just as the
whole business enterprise grated on him.
     It all took too much time and concern, and the result was that he
had begun to drink.  This problem was about a year old now and had
steadily escalated as he sought to drown his troubles in booze -- the
troubles, and more so, the sexual estrangement of his wife -- although
he felt guilty at trying to escape from reality this way.
     Today he had taken off from work to try to face his problems head-
on, intending to relax on the beach and think out the entire business.
He would be with his family, and above all -- what he repeated to
himself over and over -- he would not touch a single drop of liquor.
     School was out for the summer now and out of the corner of his eyes
he could see his daughter Ellen and his older daughter Louise reach the
rock where the sea gulls gathered and, clambering up on it, scaring the
gulls away into shrieking flight.  Ellen stood glistening on the rock,
just out of the water, both parts of her tiny two-piece white bathing
suit nearly falling off from the ripening curves of her body.  He
thought he could see the top of the triangle of her young blonde pubic
hair -- but perhaps it was his imagination, and he felt relieved when
Ellen tugged at her suit to pull it back up into place But even then it
could not mask the tantalizing cleavage of her jutting young breasts and
in the back it did not attempt to cover the top inch or so of the narrow
crevice between her two smoothly curved buttocks.  The wetly clinging
suit indented at the thinly dividing slit of her pussy -- and he thought
he could see the entire swollen length of it where the suit clung so
lewdly.
     He pulled his eyes forcibly away ... he would have to get a grip on
himself!
     His older daughter Louise was totally a different creature,
seventeen, and thus more fully developed than thirteen-year-old Ellen,
with full beautifully rounded buttocks and firm voluptuous breasts just
as developed as Roger's wife's.  He stared at his older daughter as she
smoothed her short dark hair while standing on the rock.  He had not
seen her naked since she was ten, and he couldn't help wondering what
that ample, classically formed body would look like without clothes.  He
guessed her pubic curls would be dark brown like the rest of her hair,
totally different from that of his fair blonde daughter, just as her
dark complexion -- fully tanned already by the first few beach outings
-- was also a sharp contrast to Ellen's.  In height and build Louise was
nearly the equivalent of two Ellens, and he momentarily studied her
statuesque body outlined enticingly by the wet black bathing suit.  This
was the result of his vowing not to drink today and to be with his
family: It only increased his frustration, only incited his slowly
building sexual arousal.
     The older brunette daughter was clowning around on the rock with
Ellen, trying to push the smaller but stronger girl into the water, and
the two of them flexed back and forth, climbing around the rock for new
footings.  Jesus Christ, the ass on Louise! -- he had never really
noticed until today.  Her tight black bathing suit was also a bikini,
but in keeping with his older daughter's more prudent character, it was
not quite as brief as Ellen's, and it showed none of the crevice between
her generously molded ass-cheeks but only the two saucy dimples on her
back just above where the narrow crevice would begin.
     Louise was like syrup: Thick, flowing, moody and rich, tending
sometimes towards lethargy, but it was an elegant and fluid, womanly
sort of lethargy.  She would make someone a good wife.  She would make
someone a good fuck too!
     He heard her laugh as Ellen succeeded in pushing her loose from her
footing, then he saw her thrash wildly in the water before clambering up
onto the rock, and as she climbed up on all fours he saw from behind the
tantalizing swell of her pubic mound and a few curly wisps of black
pubic hair which escaped from the leg band of her black bikini panties
as she struggled, laughing, back up onto the rock.  As she jumped
upright, her breasts, full and ripely matured, nearly tumbled out of the
overflowing cups of her swim suit brassiere.  She must have been a forty
-- God would he like to feel those twin mountains of soft flesh into
throbbing passion!  And those tiny nipples which he could see thrusting
out against the thin material of her wetly clinging suit -- how he could
fondle and rub them into fleshy stiffness, how he could run his mouth
and tongue moistly over them, how he could take the small sensitive tips
of her breasts into his mouth and try to swallow them.
     Christ, what was he thinking, what sort of a degenerate was he
becoming, lying here on the beach and mentally seducing his own
daughters?  This was what not drinking led to!
     Louise's personality fit with her body like a glove.  She was smart
but no genius like Ellen, enjoying heavier music of the romantic period
and dating boys on the intellectual side -- indeed, he wondered if she
even kissed them, for always when he saw Louise and a boy friend they
were involved in heated, hand-gesturing discussions.  Her temperament
was slow to react and, once reacting, was slow to stop reacting.  All of
this fitted with her slow, voluptuous movements, the extreme ripeness of
her seventeen-year-old body, the womanly maturity she had required which
was more than that of the ordinary seventeen-year-old girl.
     She was steady and trustworthy and, unlike Ellen, was allowed to
date freely, had in fact been doing so since Ellen's age.  God, he
wished she would spread her long shapely legs a bit more -- she was
sprawled back down on the rock and he could see the long narrow
indentation of her cuntal slit where the black swim suit fitted snugly
over the intriguing mystery of her covered mound.  He put himself
mentally into the scene; he was on top of her with his fingers creeping
up inside the tight elastic leg band of her suit; he was teasing her
softly curling pubic hair; he was separating the hot wet lips of her
pussy and he was calling out to her:
     "Louise!  Louise!  Louise!"
     Holy Christ, this he had not imagined -- he had actually called
out!  She lifted her knee in surprise, giving a beautiful view of her
large rounded buttocks peeking tantalizingly out of her suit, and then
she came to her feet.  She dived off the rock and then surfaced -- head,
arms, and firmly rounded buttocks -- swimming towards him while his
younger daughter Ellen and his wife on the blue blanket next to him paid
no attention.  Now she was on the beach walking towards him -- dark,
mysterious, jiggling succulently, dripping wet, her ripe voluptuous
breasts swaying from side to side as she moved.  She came up beside him
and kneeled down at his side on the blanket, an innocent, inquiring
look, on her cleanly sculpted face, Roger's eyes riveting guiltily on
her fully hanging breasts, and the outline of her nipples while he
counted, out of the corner of his eye, the wisps of soft black pubic
hair curling from under the leg bands of her suit as she kneeled: One,
two, three, four, five.  Good God, how would he ever get himself out of
this?
     "Yes, Dad?  What did you want?  Is it time to go?"
     "No, Louise.  No, darling, I think we can stay awhile longer.  At
least if Ellen doesn't burn, if she has her sun-tan lotion on.  She has
very light skin you know."
     "I know," Louise said.
     "Her skin isn't dark like yours," he said forcibly shifting his
eyes to the ocean.  God, this was ridiculous.  Why couldn't he think of
something intelligent to say!
     "I know," she said in a ripple of laughter.  She paused.  "I think
Ellen's all right.  She's got lotion on -- in fact she's all greasy with
it."
     Roger swallowed audibly.  Louise's provocatively hovering body was
coming back into range of his eyes no matter how hard he tried to stare
at the ocean.  "The reason I called you, Louise, was just to say don't
hurt each other out there on the rock.  It's sharp, you could cut your
... your skin.  Don't be too rough."
     "Okay, Dad.  We'll be careful.  Don't worry!" She smiled and left.
Her attitude towards him had been maternal, consoling.
     Roger glanced at his wife, relieved to find that she was reading a
magazine and had paid no attention to the conversation.  No one
suspected anything, but Christ was it a close call!  And now he was
staring at Louise's full firm buttocks swinging invitingly left, right,
left, in the bottom of the bathing suit as she walked away.  God how he
could knead those enticingly round ass-cheeks, jiggle them as they were
jiggling now, clamp a firm grip on them one in each hand.  If he could
only stop this train of thought!
     He lay flat on his back and watched the gulls, wondering how he had
gotten himself into this.  If only he hadn't weakened and lecherously
pounded the hole in the wall that one time.  And wait a minute --
Louise's bedroom was on the other side of his study -- he would only
need to -- no, stop, stop, stop!
     Forty-one years old, he thought, forty-one years old and horny
enough to ogle his own adolescent daughters.  Yet he was in fact a
responsible man, a good father until now, a sort of model in his
community.  When the neighbors had something they wanted done, they
often came to Roger Johnston.  His very manner, and his presence,
incited respect and calm.  And he was handsome, with a strong,
athletically profiled face and a physique sturdy as that of a football
lineman, though he was -- he had to admit -- putting on too much weight.
He was anything the picture his friends and associates would have -- or
that he himself would have -- of a desire of young teenage girls.
     Still, after all, every man looked at women, even if they were his
aunts, his mother, his daughters.  It was only human -- you had to
notice when a tight little cunt like Louise's wagged before you on the
beach.  The important thing was not to let such thoughts cross into
action; that line, above all, was firmly drawn and he would under no
circumstances cross it, he vowed.  Do not cross the line into action, he
repeated to himself.
     Louise, thank God, was out of the water again and now lying next to
his wife on the same blanket reading the same magazine.  Ellen too was
gone from the rock, though he couldn't see where -- probably she had
gone for a walk.  He felt better now, more braced up now than he'd
realized that the important thing was in keeping his occasional
thoughts, which might crudely be termed incestuous, only in the realm of
thought and not in that of action.
     Roger got up, pulled his stomach in as was automatic when he was on
the beach, and strode proudly to the water.  He plunged directly in and
began pulling with swift, practiced strokes out into the ocean, and it
felt good, the honest physical integrity of his still powerful muscles
drawing him deftly through the deep water.  He reached the rock, paused
to tread water for a moment, and then took a dive straight to the
bottom, about fifteen feet deep here.  Interesting, he thought, the
underwater world of plants waving in the current of bright-colored
little crustaceans, of pressure, of bubbles.  Next time he would bring
his scuba outfit.  Yes, he was all right now and he would put this whole
business with his daughters into the past where it belonged.  He blew
out the last of his air and rose to the surface, taking in a full
breath.
     And he nearly choked on it.
     Framed in the beach house -- in the open side visible only from the
water -- was thirteen-year-old Ellen shamelessly removing the top of her
tight bikini bathing suit.  Not just removing, but tearing it off, and
then twirling and discarding it over her shoulder, and then jiggling her
firm naked breasts erotically side to side in a wild obscene gyration as
she had when her boy friend Mark massaged them.  Moreover -- the biggest
horror -- she seemed to be looking Roger brazenly straight in the eye,
though he was to far away to be sure, kneading her breasts, pulling the
small pink tantalizing nipples out, tweaking them into excited erection.
She cupped her nakedly white breasts from below, and began slowly,
hauntingly, jiggling them.  Her agonized father wanted to swim farther
out to avoid this lust-arousing sight, yet he felt a compelling hardness
in his swim trunks beneath the water and he had to keep watching if only
to see what would follow.
     Then turning her back to him, Ellen placed her hands on her curving
hips, and slowly rolled the bikini panties of her swim suit down over
her firm buttocks and then down her tapered young legs to her ankles.
Stepping out of them, she picked up the trunks and sniffed lewdly at the
loins as though it were exotic perfume.  Where had she picked up this
sort of thing, where had she learned it?  She had certainly been doing
some research.
     Now she turned to face him again, put her arms up in the air, and
stretched languidly.  She bent backwards slightly, legs apart, massaging
her invitingly curved legs upward from her knees to her well-rounded
thighs, and -- he was sure now that he had floated closer with the waves
-- looking him dead in the eye.  She massaged her blonde, sparsely
growing pubic hair and, bending her lithe golden body still farther
back, with both hands spread the lips of her hair-lined cunt wide apart
until he could see the moist pink cuntal flesh flashing between her
parted thighs.  Then -- good God!  She slowly, teasingly, wormed her own
extended middle finger in, worked it way up inside the soft moist
opening and began stroking in and out, flattening the palm of her hand
against the hair of her pussy with each in-stroke.  Her finger was wet
and her excited cuntal secretions were flowing lustfully all over her
inner thighs, as she finger-fucked herself harder and harder, twisting
it and increasing it to the hungering pitch of five or six passion-
incited strokes a second.  She was being much more brutal to herself
than Mark had ever been in the garage, almost as though she enjoyed
masochistically punishing herself.
     And then suddenly she stopped, apparently out of ideas how to
perform, and moved slowly in a circle, lewdly bouncing her breasts and
jiggling her voluptuous buttocks.  After teasing her flattened hands up
and down over her entire naked body, she stopped again, her back to the
water and her father, legs spread wide apart, and bent to the ground to
touch her toes, staying in the lewd position to let him see the entire
length of her still virginal young cuntal slit and the tempting circle
of vaginal pink set in the soft blonde pubic curls.  Indeed, to let him
see anything up between her legs that he wanted.
     The precocious teenager reached slowly back behind her naked
buttocks and began teasing around with her fingers again, still bent
with her upraised buttocks before him, opening and closing the fleshy,
reddish lips of her pussy, hotly worming her middle finger into her
little virginal vagina and quickly pulling it out to tease the tiny
hardened bud of her clitoris.  The whole excited region up between her
legs glistened now from the moisture of her flowing vaginal juices, and
she turned for a second to look back over her shoulder.
     Roger tried to look away and watch the waves, to study his wife on
her blanket, to let his eyes roam over the beautiful rocky beach, but it
was no use, he returned his gaze to his daughter's teasingly lewd play
just as she pulled both hands away from her naked little vagina and, as
though pondering on what to do next, looked down at one hand as she
extended the middle finger straight out.  Where had she learned all
this?  She put the finger in her mouth to lubricate it, and then waved
it in the air as though it were a threatening instrument.  Then she
brought it around slowly towards herself from behind -- at the same time
carefully spreading the round-white ass cheeks of her luscious buttocks
with her other hand to reveal the dark secretive ring of her tiny anus.
Christ, what was she going to do now.  As she brought her finger before
the small puckered opening she held it suspended suggestively there,
widening the spread of her ass-cheeks still more with the other hand,
and she seemed by a force of will to make her entire girlish body relax
in order to facilitate what would follow.  She pressed hard on the
finger until the small resisting anal passage was ready to give way.
     All at once she stuck the finger brutally into its full hilt up her
exposed rectum, her hands slapping the cheeks of her buttocks with what
looked like a resounding smack, and it must have hurt for she gave a
little cry.  Perhaps she hadn't done it before, perhaps she'd only heard
about it, or ... seen it?  Had she been watching some pornographic
movies?  Whatever, she seemed to be adjusting rapidly to the lewdly
violating finger, for she placed her legs even wider apart until it
seemed her young upturned buttocks would split -- and begin to slowly
pull her finger out, twist it, push it back in, twist it, pull it out,
twist it, in a lewd rhythmic motion.  It seemed to hurt her or to
require great effort, for her nakedly curvaceous body was frozen
motionless except for the sodomizing middle finger.  Yet -- for still
more punishment -- she now forced in a second finger as Roger watched
with astonished eyes the nearly microscopic little anal mouth stretching
helplessly to allow this double-finger manipulation.
     And then an incredible thing happened: His thirteen-year-old
daughter Ellen, began to toss her long blonde hair, and to shake her
shoulders crazily as though freeing herself from painful sensations, as
though beginning to enjoy this forbidden pleasure.  She turned again,
her eyes glowing with wicked passion -- to ensure herself that her
father was still watching -- and then she began to lewdly gyrate her
quivering buttocks, slowly at first, and then with increasing abandon
until the speed with which she rocked and circled her hips matched that
of her obscenely pumping fingers.  He had never seen -- or imagined --
such a sight in his life as beautiful Ellen wantonly skewering her
entire backside up and down on her two penetrating wet fingers.
     She simply could not get enough now.  She bent at the knees to
grind the firm young buttocks even farther out and back to meet the
lewdly impaling fingers, to rotate herself around them, the wide-
stretched little anus expanding still more as she twisted her exploring
fingers around and around up inside her rectum, the cheeks of her
tantalizing buttocks vibrating and heaving, and her hips gyrating and
grinding ever harder as she squatted deeper down toward the ground,
totally consumed in an erotic animal frenzy which Roger had never known
could exist.



                                Chapter 4

     Roger sat bent over his desk in his study drinking furiously to
escape the reality of what had happened at the beach just a few short
hours before.  Over and over he ran the scene through his mind, trying
to decide what he could have possibly done to avoid his youngest
daughter's obscene performance.  He certainly hadn't asked her to do it
although he had watched, yes watched, as much as he tried not to; what
human being, would not have watched?  He had watched if only from shock.
He'd simply had no alternative, but still it all bothered him,
especially the fact that Ellen had obviously put on her lewd performance
for him, and only him, to see.
     As the Scotch began to dwindle in the bottle at his side he felt
less worried.  It was amazing how things always softened after a little
dip in the bottle.  He'd had to look!  He was not after all a piece of
chalk.  Yet if only it hadn't happened, if only the beach episode had
turned out to be the healthy, relaxing family outing he had intended it
to be, then he would not be in his room now breaking his vow not to
drink today.  As it was, he had not only broken his non-drinking vow,
but had smashed and shattered it into a thousand pieces.  Though he had
been drinking privately -- not just in company -- for a year now as an
escape, he had seldom consumed enough at one sitting to get drunk.
Perhaps a dozen times, if that.  The notion of a drunkard in the house
was simply too upsetting to his sense of propriety and to the example he
intended to set for his children.  Today, however -- and at this minute
-- he was rip-roaring drunk and there was no turning back.
     If only things were all right between his wife and him, then he
would not drink and he would not have these tendencies to look at his
luscious daughter, Ellen, for which he now stewed in guilt.  If only ...
     Yet things with his wife were not all right.  He considered, for
instance, the few hours she'd lain next to him on the beach.  Had she
talked to him?  No.  Flirted with him, touched him, swum with him,
glanced at him, or in any way recognized his existence?  No.  No to all
of them.  He could have made the move, of course, but he'd known how
flat her response would have been, and that knowledge did not invite
making any moves.  Things were stale between them and that was that.
     And why, anyway, should he have to court his own wife?  If he had
to court, why her then when there were certainly better little morsels
nearby -- quite nearby -- in fact right here in the house ...
     Stop it!  For Chrissakes, stop it, stop it, stop it, he ordered
himself!
     Cynthia and him -- yes, that was an unhappy story hidden beneath
what everyone looking on would think was contented marriage.  They were
cut off from each other, estranged.  Though the word bruised him, it
described the situation perfectly.  Their sex life had dwindled down to
practically nothing, just a few perfunctory, obligatory performances for
which he might as well have substituted a rag doll.  He just could not
stimulate Cynthia, for all his solid, handsome appearance, for all the
generous size, even, of his cock.  Roger faced this fact only in moments
of complete abandon and breakdown, such as now.  Yet even at such
moments, he did not suspect that his own lack of experience was the
reason he could not excite his wife, the reason, ultimately, why she was
each day building more and more of her life separate from him.
     Cynthia was even separating herself from their children, from Ellen
and Louise.  She was trying to escape from reality, though in a way
different from Roger's.  She had just begun a part-time job in the
mornings, although they certainly did not need the money, but even so
Roger did not object to the job itself.  It was just that it fit so well
with all of the other escapes she had invented for herself in the
evenings, for the last year, in the evenings which she well knew were
the only times he and the children were at home.  For the last year she
had traipsed off to evening courses of all varieties, in all subjects,
just to get out.  He well knew she had no interest in basket-weaving;
she did not even like baskets; yet she had gone through it because there
had been no other course available.  And now -- to top all of this off
-- now when the children were on summer vacation, she'd found this part-
time job to get away mornings as well.
     In a way, perhaps, he should be grateful.  Other wives in the same
situation would have found another lover, or gone to group-sex parties,
or taken -- he shuddered -- to drinking.  The only vice Cynthia had was
smoking.  And he supposed he had to be grateful, for if she'd been a bit
more wild in her search for escape, things could even be in a worse
mess.  Just as they could be in an even worse mess if she had happened
to stumble into the line of sight of Ellen's shocking exhibition given
in the three-walled beach shelter this very afternoon ...
     The curvaceous body of Ellen; yes, of Louise too, but first and
foremost Ellen if only for the exciting way she handled it: he could not
wipe away the memory of that naked little body seen -- only seen --
three times now.  He put his head in his hands, digging his fingers into
his hair and scalp, then collapsed his head on the desk and felt soon
that he would fall asleep.
     There was a soft knock on the wall.
     He sat bolt upright at the sound that seemed to come from Ellen's
wall.  Had he dreamed it?  No, for there it came again, three short and
very soft raps which would only be audible from his room and hers.
     Was it really on the wall, or was it at the door?  He wondered just
before it came again -- three short, soft knocks and it was on the wall.
By the nail hole.  His heart thudding in his chest he got up and walked
noiselessly to the nail hole and pressed his eye to it, squinting in an
effort to focus, for try as he could there was no sense to be made from
the pattern of blue color splashes and deep, wavy black shadow he saw on
the other side of the wall.  Then it dawned on him.
     He was staring into Ellen's eye which was immediately on the other
side of the wall looking back at him.
     His daughter backed off, purring some sort of soft song, and he saw
she was dressed in dark black winter boots and a wide black belt about
her waist and -- except for those items, she was ... completely ...
naked ... completely naked and standing invitingly only a foot or two
away from the hole he'd drilled in her bedroom wall.
     He had never seen her so close before, never been able to drink in
her ripening, budding womanhood at this range which was so short he
could see the light blonde down which covered her entire teenage body.
He seldom even saw his wife's naked body this close, this thoroughly
exposed.
     Ellen began to dance again as she had at the beach shelter but this
time on a more intimate basis, swaying her jutting young rose-tipped
breasts from side to side with her hands, but dropping her eyes to his
level occasionally to check for response.  Then she placed one hand
under each breast and, smiling, began to wiggle her hands with slight,
nearly imperceptible, but very quick motions, lewd motions well-designed
to set the curving white breasts into an ecstatic quivering and jiggling
like mounds of jello, the tautly erected nipples bobbing around like
corks in a pond.
     She moved ever closer to the hole in the wall and -- good God! --
now she was trying to work her naked white breast into it!  She was
gasping, sighing, from the effort or from her lascivious excitement as
she squeezed and pushed hard to jam one ripely swelling nipple into the
hole, pulling the breast back out again and -- dipping a finger quickly
into her moist throbbing cunt -- lubricating the small pink nipple with
her finger and then trying to jam the enticing mound into the hole
towards Roger's eye.  In response, her drunken, lust-incited father
maneuvered and hungrily forced his tongue in a similar fashion from the
other side trying to touch the hot rubbery tip of her throbbing nipple.
     Do not cross the line to action.  Do not cross the line to action,
he thought jerking his tongue back in horror at himself.  Ellen,
unsuccessful at trying to push her nipple still farther through the
hole, and feeling Roger's hot breath leave, also slowly withdrew.  The
tortured nipple was now enormously stiff and erected, and bruised --
there seemed even to be blood on it -- and she forced her throbbing
breast upward toward her mouth and licked the nipple clean which made it
jut enticingly outward still more from the full firm roundness.
     Now she began dancing nakedly around the room, although it was not
a vulgar dance like she had done in the beach house -- perhaps she
realized her father was too inhibited to be much stimulated by such an
obscene exhibition.  As a pre-teenager, she'd had ballet lessons, and
what she did now was an improvised ballet, but in the nude, with many
sensually provocative leg raises, bends and spreads that her father's
blood was churning in his loins.  As she floated around the room,
scarcely impeded by the tall black boots, her ripening breasts and round
curved buttocks undulated slowly like waves on the beach.  As she
danced, she continued half humming, half singing her soft song, and her
face slightly flushed, was ironically a picture of adolescent innocence.
She was giving an exciting performance, but one help perhaps was the
bottle of cognac on Ellen's nightstand, of which shed already consumed
one-third.  So she had found his liquor supply and learned how to use
it!  He thought it was a secret that he kept it in his study.
     She was doing an erotic ballet, suggestively emphasizing the charms
of her firm curvaceous body.  Well, she'd always been good at dancing --
with clothes, that is!  He remembered those lessons he used to drive her
to when she could realistically be called a child, given by an eccentric
old woman who'd once danced with Bolshoi.  A few times he'd gone into
the studio to pick her up and he had seen the practice room full of
barely adolescent girls working with bars and mirrors to music from a
record player and to the commands of the old woman.  Ellen must have
been ten then, for it was just before she stopped the lessons.
     He had entered the studio that one time and hungrily watched the
pretty little girls finish their last five minutes of provocative leg
raises over the bar.  Some of the girls were not so little, some had the
beginnings of breasts, and in the case of a few older teenagers, very
developed voluptuously mounded breasts and full thighs with smooth round
buttocks, which came well into display as they stretched and strived to
work their tapered legs sensually around the bar.  Among this selection
of partially or fully developed girls, he noticed, was his precocious
ten-year-old daughter Ellen.  She had always been ahead of her time, or
her age, in all respects, and he noticed while standing there that her
softly curving pussy mound, stretched incitingly wide under the tights
as she raised her legs to the bar, had at least the external appearance
of a woman's.  The small rounded cheeks of her buttocks, though, were
those of a little girl child; and her budding breasts were still only
miniscule rock-hard mounds, only beginnings.  Yet he had the feeling for
the first time watching her in that room that his daughter was no longer
a little girl.  Something about the look in her eyes, the reticence and
new knowledge of her expression, suggested that -- as did the visible
evidence of coming changes in her developing body.  In point of fact,
Ellen at that time had not begun menstruating, for his wife Cynthia
announced its beginning later, at the age eleven and a half.  Still, at
ten Roger had seen for the first time a womanly little Ellen.  And now
-- through the hole he'd drilled in her bedroom wall -- here she was
doing the same thing -- suggestively raising her long shapely legs as
though up to a bar -- only this time she was naked and wearing black
leather boots and a wide belt and showing the soft parted lips of her
fully developed pussy, pink in color up beneath the tantalizing light
blonde pubic hair, and above were swaying moderate-sized breasts with
small erected nipples, breasts voluptuous enough to make any man happy.
And around in back was a tantalizing little ass that in its tightness
and fluidity was so saucy that no matter how innocently Ellen tried to
walk down the street with it, she always seems to be trying to start a
male riot.  And now those buttocks were naked and dancing before his
eyes, the softly mounded ass-cheeks waving back and forth about three
feet away from his eye, smooth and unblemished, with the narrow crevice
spreading wide in some of her tantalizing positions so that he could
catch a hungry glimpse of the pink hairless ring peeking out, the tiny
puckered anus she had sodomized and distorted so lewdly with her very
own fingers some hours before.
     Transitions were always fast with Ellen and in a fraction of a
second she stopped suddenly and seemed as though she had never been
dancing.  She walked to the bed and sat down on it, legs spread perhaps
a foot apart, and stretched languidly.  Then she slowly spread her legs
wider apart, directly facing the nail hole with all her delicious
nakedness exposed from her uplifted young breasts to the soft light
blonde-haired triangle of her cunt.
     Roger almost choked as his young daughter began lasciviously
massaging her breasts in tiny teasing circles, tweaking the softened
nipples into sudden throbbing hardness.  Her legs scissored slowly open
and closed, exposing the thin slit of her wetly glistening vagina
nestled teasingly in the sparse blonde hair up between her widespread
thighs.
     Her feet were pointed directly at her heavily breathing father now
as she laid her head back on the bed and began to work her shapely
adolescent body into a burning passion.  Her hotly grinding buttocks
twisted against the mattress as though she were trying to bury herself
in it, and sheer wanton desire appeared in her deep blue eyes.
     She writhed more lasciviously now as though being attracted by some
unseen lover, both her hands dancing over her body as though out of
control, the fingertips gliding over the smooth milk-white belly and
coming to rest together at the tender "vee" of her soft hair-covered
cuntal furrow.  She groaned at the sudden lewd contact of her hands with
the moist pink slit and pulled her knees straight up, toes still on the
mattress.  Then she straightened her legs out over her like two
beautifully carved ivory columns above the bed and with a deeper groan,
let the columns fall wide apart to fully expose to her excited father
the clearest view he'd ever had of the moist glistening furrow up
between her thighs.  God what a tight little cunt, he thought as her
fingers crawled to the soft hair-covered lips and spread them slowly
apart until the wet slippery pinkness was fully visible and the tight
little vaginal mouth opened hungrily.  The half-moons of her sensuously
rounded buttocks raised up in lewd anticipation off the bed, spreading
the narrow crevice between them, and he gasped at her tiny pink anus
nestled mysterious and inviting below the swollen, desire-agitated pussy
lips.
     Roger gasped as his brazen daughter slowly inserted her middle
finger up into the glistening pink vaginal slit, stroking her tiny bud-
like clitoris.  Her probing fingers worked themselves inside the edges
of her passion-drenched cuntal lips, and then she slipped her finger
into her tight little vaginal opening and began to work it smoothly in
and out between her legs.  Apparently she liked it, for her legs
jackknifed back, knees mashed against her breasts, and her rounded
buttocks rose and fell in response to the lewdly thrusting finger.
Ellen's facial muscles tightened as she added another finger to the
first and, clenching her teeth, pushed in beyond the hungry pink folds
into her expanding and contracting little cunt-hole.  They disappeared
with a soft, sucking noise and a moan of forbidden pleasure purred
ecstatically from her lips.
     Ellen had been possessed, although she was still in control, as
Roger would see in a couple of minutes.  Her eyes and teeth were
clenched tightly as she writhed beneath her own driving fingers in
uncontrollable passion, the rapid rhythm bringing grunts of lewd
pleasure from deep within her throat as the fingers sunk into the tight,
pink opening, making moist, sucking sounds as she withdrew them only to
push them in again.  Her face was red -- near to climax and she groaned
rapturously as her fingers thrust harder and deeper -- they were just
not enough!  She tried to brutally thrust a third finger into her cunt
but that was too many for her virginal cunt and it would not work.  The
problem, anyway, was that she needed more depth and not more width.  She
craved something more penetrating than fingers as her head rolled from
side to side on the pillow, her long blonde hair flying in frustration
at the nearness and yet the distance of a climax.  Her hand beat a wild
staccato sliding the two wet fingers against the wide-straining buttocks
which she smacked sharply on each instroke, her deep guttural sounds of
joy faster and louder with each passing second.  The climax was coming,
hanging by a thin thread above Ellen, and just a few more deep thrusts
and twists might have brought it she knew, but that is not what she
wanted.
     Suddenly, on an out-stroke she pulled her fingers all the way out
-- air rushing into her vagina popping like a champagne cork and rested
her hand motionless on her leg.  Her entire vagina area was dripping
wet, and now the unused finger also shone glisteningly with the
passionate secretions.  She spread her legs still wider, a ballet
dancer's spread, and moved her trembling hands back to her cunt where
she grasped the pink fleshy lips in her fingers and spread them wide
apart to merely hold them there, revealing invitingly the wet, fully
prepared opening of her virginal vagina which had seen nothing more than
a few fingers, and never a hard male cock.  On the other side of the
wall the lust-swollen cock she wanted beat maddeningly inside her
father's pants.
     The young blonde teenager remained frozen in this position of
wanton invitation, each hand grasping one blood-filled lip of her pussy
and spreading it lewdly out to its full width.  She was again humming
her soft song and she began to slowly open and close the tightly
stretched lips -- open and close, open and close -- and at the same time
she flexed the little finger of one finger back and forth in a lewd
motion of beckoning for her father to come to her hungry, stimulated
cunt, working open and shut in a wild rhythm of temptation.
     She broke off her soft melody to say just barely audibly, "Daddy,
come here.  Daddy, Daddy, come here."  She groaned from far down in her
throat, hardly able to prolong this throbbing agony.  "Please, Daddy,"
she repeated, "come to me, come here, come right here ..."
     Yet in his mind Roger had journeyed back to the little Ellen of ten
years old, who was a picture of innocence, a daughter who needed and
deserved her father's protection and of whom he had been thoroughly
proud.  He could not connect that Ellen with the wantonly panting girl
before him now, craving satisfaction.  He simply could not believe,
though the proof was before his gaping eyes, that in a few short years
the hard, thin little girl's body had become this trembling, palpitating
incarnation of lustful arousal spread obscenely before him.  How could
it have happened?  But yet, it had, clearly it had and the most
incredible thing of all was that she desired her own father.  Perhaps
only because he was the nearest man; but whatever, she desperately
desired him -- no, at this moment it was stronger than a desire, it was
an immediate over powering need, one which no male, seeing Ellen in her
present hungry condition, could in good conscience fail to satisfy.  He
had to respond.
     Ellen was getting still wilder as she writhed around on the bed and
continued flexing her little finger in uninhibited invitation, at the
same time moving her own eyes back and forth from the puffy hair-lined
lips she was spreading so temptingly with her trembling fingers to the
open nail hole and her father's eye on the other side.  She was heaving
her buttocks up and down, trembling uncontrollably, as she pressed the
full pink lips of her excited pussy open and shut, open and shut, ever
faster, invitingly flexing her little finger, her hands and the entire
area between her legs drowned in the vaginal secretions pouring from her
impassioned cunt.



                                Chapter 5

     Roger, fully drunk, did not hesitate to answer his daughter's plea.
     He went carefully into the hall, glancing around to make sure no
one saw him, and then tried the door to Ellen's bedroom.  It was
unlocked, naturally, and pushing it open, he went in so quickly that he
swirled back on the door, without having even looked at Ellen, and
immediately locked it.  The bolt made a noise as it locked, but he was
sure the noise wasn't too loud and no one would have heard it.  And it
turned out he was right, luck was with him ... so far.
     Ellen lay in the exact same position on the bed, her legs scissored
out and one lip of her pussy clasped in the fingers of each hand which
pulled the wetly blushing lips wide apart.  She saw her father and
immediately smiled at his eyes going straight to her pinkly glistening
pussy.  As he walked a few steps closer to it, she watched him shed his
clothes into a careless heap on the floor, and she squirmed in heated
anticipation.  He sure had a good solid body -- she'd thought it would
be like that.  And the massively swollen cock, my God!  It was much
bigger than her boy friend Mark's, and as soon as Roger dropped his
shorts, his state of excitement was obvious from the way the long thick
penis reached -- throbbing lewdly -- toward the ceiling.  He came a few
steps closer, standing directly between his daughter's widespread legs,
his penis thrusting out hard and menacing before him.
     "Fuck me, Daddy," she groaned.  "Fuck me.  Please." She moved
farther up onto the bed, and then leaned to the nightstand to hurriedly
grasp the cognac bottle which she pressed to her lips and drank,
gulping, for several seconds.  Then she returned to her position in the
middle of the bed, so he could come to her whenever he wanted.
     She needed a little bracer too, he thought, or she wouldn't have
had to take some more cognac before letting him fuck her.  What was it,
really, this taboo about not touching flesh of the same family?  It must
be some age-old remnant of the first societies, a taboo handed down in
writing and practiced through all the major religions of the world right
to the present day.  That made it strong, all right, and Roger felt its
strength inside him in his fear of violating it.  He wondered if,
without the moral code which had been pounded into him since birth he
would still have felt this fear of incest on his own.  Perhaps, he
didn't know.  Strong as the sensual desires of the body were, and much
as they blurred the mind, he might not have felt it without the forced
social heritage: His cock, for instance, throbbed impatiently out before
him now without the slightest concern.  Yet he was in control of his
cock and the taboo on incest raced through his mind like lightning.  It
must be a pretty deep thing since even Ellen, young and unthinking as
she was, thoroughly drunk and thoroughly aroused as she was, had seemed
to feel the need for yet another drink before submitting to him.
     "Fuck me, Daddy, please fuck me," she implored.
     And her faint subconscious hesitation revealed by that last drink
-- though now completely contradicted by her words and position -- was
nothing compared to his lingering and fully conscious scruples.  He was
in such a state of lascivious hyperstimulation -- not having had a fuck
from his wife for a week -- that he felt his hot white sperm might begin
spurting from his cock and out over her naked young body any moment now
regardless of what he did.  Yet even so, and steaming drunk as he
himself was, he could not tolerate the thought of fucking Ellen, for
Ellen was his own lovely daughter, his own flesh and blood!
     Yes, that she was: Delicious flesh and hotly circulating blood.  He
had to respond in some way, but he would absolutely not fuck her.  Do
not cross the line into action; do not cross the line into action, the
reminder rang through his head.  Yet he was going to cross the line ...
a little ... just a little ... into action.  But no fucking.  Absolutely
none ... out of the question.
     Why, at this close range just a glance at her hotly exposed little
pussy was enough to show she was a virgin.  She was only thirteen and
she had damn well better be a virgin!  That pussy looked so tight, the
vaginal opening hardly the diameter of his little finger, to violate
that narrow unstretched pussy was unthinkable to Roger.  To fuck his own
thirteen-year-old virginal daughter was too horrible!  Yes ... God ...
look at that hot little cunt ...
     He hit on a solution to his dilemma.  Why not just pet with her as
adolescents do?  As, in fact, he saw her do that time with Mark in the
garage?  What harm was there in that?  Just pet and -- no matter how
much she might tempt him -- nothing, absolutely nothing more.
     He clambered onto the bed beside her, his palpitating hardness
leading the way, and as soon as he lay down next to her she immediately
took the rock-hard shaft into one of her hands and began stroking it
heatedly with the other.  Explosive as Roger was feeling, he almost shot
his cum right on the spot.  Reaching boldly over with his own hand, he
felt his body course with tingling electric sensations as his fingers
sank excitedly into her curly, fine-textured pubic hair.  He crept
farther -- there was the beginning, the very top, of her slender pussy-
slit with the little pink bud of a clitoris pounding lustfully away with
blood.  He moved farther down ... holy Christ she was gushing wet with
heated vaginal secretions as he had never found in his wife.  There was
the opening of her tiny unstretched vagina, and as his finger circled
the small virginal opening Ellen jerked at the tingling sensations it
shot through her own enraptured body.
     They started petting -- Ellen rubbing his heavily palpitating cock,
her father working his extended middle finger slowly up into her
clasping vagina, astonished all the while at how tightly it squeezed
back around his probing finger.  But all this was not enough for the
inventive thirteen-year-old -- she could finger-fuck her cunt by herself
-- and she wanted something better.  Jerking away from him, she released
his licentiously pulsing cock, and shifted her position on the bed until
she was again lying right next to him, but upside down with her head by
his feet and her feet by his head.  Over the last weeks she had
purchased some pornographic movies from a source in school and watched
them down in the basement, using her father's projector; one of the
movies had "Sixty-Nine" as its title and it showed a man licking a
woman's pussy while at the same time the woman sucked voraciously at his
lust-swollen cock.  The movie had driven Ellen into a helpless erotic
frenzy and that was exactly what she wanted now, sixty-nine, as a
preparation to the wild incestuous fucking she needed so badly.  No one
had ever licked her young teenage pussy; what she did not know was that
her father also had never licked anyone's pussy.  But this would change.
     Lying upside down next to her hotly aroused father, she now raised
herself up on all fours, and moved her head and hands over his excitedly
throbbing penis, her long strands of silky blonde hair falling around
his stomach and semen-filled balls as she slowly lowered her head while
blowing her hot breath at the pulsating cock-head which was still
several inches from her soft moist lips.  She hoped he would get the
hint and also move slightly so that her pussy mound would be suspended
directly above his face instead of at his side; but he did not take the
lewd hint.  Well, she could wait, she would start kissing him there
anyway, for she was aroused and excited by the sight of the thick blue-
veined, man's penis throbbing away with the beat of his heart, and she
wanted so to wrap her lips hotly around it.
     Her face was directly over her dad's hairy loins now and she played
her hand back and forth on his ever-hardening penis.  Her lips were a
bare inch away from the tip and she opened her full-upped mouth to
exhale softly against it, her hot breath flowing around the bulbous end
with a warm maddening slowness.
     "Ooooh my God, suck it, suck it now, baby," she heard her father
groan wildly below her.  His obscene words excited her, and her response
was immediate.
     Her tongue flicked out, the tip coming into warm wet contact with
the thick rubbery head of his cock.  She circled it over the smooth,
pulsating flesh as he groaned and twisted helplessly from the cruel
teasing she was subjecting him to.  Then the tip of her slowly searching
tongue found the tiny slit in his throbbing cock-head and darted wetly
into it.  The pulsing opening was already moist from the tiny droplets
of seminal fluid seeping licentiously through from his extreme
excitement, and the sharp pungent taste and odor caused her mouth to
salivate heavily and her nostrils to flare slightly out.
     She dropped her hands to the base of her father's thickly erected
penis and cupped his soft hair-covered testicles gently with one hand,
grazing her nails tauntingly over the lust-tightened flesh.  The other
hand she placed at the thick hard base of his cock where it soared
achingly up from the curly black pubic hair covering his loins.  She
pinched it between her thumb and her forefinger and pulled down
teasingly, just as she began planting moist warm kisses around it,
beginning at the rubbery tip and tracing a path Roger could scarcely
stand down the entire pounding length of it to the base and then wetly
back up to the lust-knotted tip again.  She played long, very long, as
Roger groaned from deep in his chest, having never before in his life
experienced the joy of a female's lips and tongue warmly sucking his
cock.
     He could take the lewd teasing no more and reached down to plant
his hands in his daughter's hair, and then thrust his fully expanded
loins up eagerly with tremendous force, holding her small blonde head in
place with his hands.  The smooth rubbery head of his cock rammed up
inside, crushing heatedly through her soft moist lips, between her white
teeth and into the warm wet saliva of her clasping mouth.  Ellen could
feel the desire-stiffened male flesh rub the entire length of her
tongue, almost embedding itself deep in her throat and she closed her
eyes tight to keep from choking.
     This was very different than Mark Green's fourteen-year-old penis,
and her father was becoming more demanding, besides not giving her
anything back for it, either!  She wagged her arched hips next to his
head, gyrating her buttocks, but he did not take the salacious hint and
climb with his head up under her waiting cunt.  Rats!  She turned her
head slightly, the cock in her throat following, to see if he was even
looking at her naked pussy so invitingly near to him.  No ... his head
was raised so he could watch his cock fucking into her clinging little
mouth.  The bastard!  The selfish bastard!
     "Jesus, mouth is like butter," she heard her father murmur as he
began to undulate his hips up into her face, his great fleshy staff
protruding banana-like from her lewdly ovalled lips.
     "Suck harder!  Suck harder!" he demanded, his voice thick and crude
from passion and from the bottle of Scotch he'd drunk.
     Ellen sucked demon-like, swishing her tongue with a lewd vengeance
around and around the throbbing head ramming so forcefully in and out of
her tight rounded lips.  She sucked from the masochistic joy of being
used, used like some girl of the streets, until eventually her mouth
would fill with her father's obscene white sperm and this time -- unlike
the time she'd sucked Mark -- she was going to swallow it.  Oh God, she
was going to suck his heavily loaded cock bone-dry.  And she also sucked
so wildly in the hope she would stimulate him to take up his end of the
sixty-nine position.  In the film it had looked so easy, yet Ellen
herself did not know how to get him started.  It seemed so very bold to
just work her pussy directly down into someone's face as the girl in the
film had done with such ease.  She was worried about what his reaction
might be.  And yet ... if she were to do just that ... if she stuck her
excited young pussy right in his face ... would it disgust him?  ... or
would he ...
     Ellen moved on her knees until her arched-up buttocks came directly
beside her father's face.  Then she raised one knee, spreading her legs
provocatively wide apart, flattening her entire little vaginal area out
wide into one plane, and planted the knee all the way on the other side
of his shoulders.  She had done it!  All of her naked crotch hung in
wanton suspension right on top of his face.  She could feel his hot
breath covering her entire wet pubic area and the dividing crevice of
her smoothly upraised buttocks.  Would he get the hint?
     She glanced back to see the direction of his eyes, which were
gaping at her wide-splayed cunt and her ass so close to him as they had
never been before.  A tiny drop of her excited vaginal moisture brushed
glisteningly onto his cheek; and he did not wipe it off.  He began to
raise his head slowly toward the round white half-moons of her quivering
young buttocks, yet he did not yet touch her, much as she desperately
wanted him to.  Her buttocks trembled like a leaf.
     Ellen's father, hands still clamped in her long blonde hair, held
her head trapped tightly between his thighs as he thrust his cock
mercilessly up into her throat, forcing her lips apart with each upward
jerk until almost the whole of his long rigid member was consumed by her
straining mouth.  Her disheveled hair flowed down to lie in a soft pool
on his hair-covered belly, and her firm white breasts danced and shook
as she sucked ever more wildly, making obscene slurping noises.
Suddenly the tempo changed, as Roger stopped his lewd rhythmic gyration
and began to groan with uncontrollable excitement, locking his hands
hard around the back of Ellen's bobbing head, drawing it deep down on
his pulsing rigidity until all that was left exposed of his cock was a
small bit at the base, protruding wet and glistening from his daughter's
wildly sucking lips.
     Now the explosion came, the explosion Ellen had anticipated and
wanted so badly, and her mouth filled with the frantically jetting
liquid as she gulped it down her throat with hungry swallows.  Her
cheeks bloated and hollowed as the warmly working cavern of her mouth
filled and emptied, filled and emptied, and she swallowed desperately to
get every last drop of the flooding white sperm erupting into it.  Ellen
herself was whimpering from lascivious desire, but she was still left
only to the heat of his breath caressing the entire area between her
widespread legs.  Suddenly her father's deflating rod of flesh slipped
out of her mouth, some thin gossamer strings of hot sperm still
connecting her lips obscenely to it even though it was now several
inches away from her lips.
     No!  She wanted it all, she wanted every last drop!
     With a vengeance the young teenager took his shrinking cock in one
hand and forced it back into her mouth, running her tongue over and over
the now lifeless flesh to get the last drop of white hot sperm.  She
stuck her tongue into the slit at the end of his cock and burrowed into
it, then sucked, sucked, and swallowed a mouthful of saliva mixed with
the last, hotly searing remnants of her father's passion.
     And then it happened!  Her father's hands released their grip on
her head and came trembling onto her shaking, smooth rounded buttocks
and slowly, inquiringly, spread them apart.  Ellen could feel his breath
more intensely, his face was closer now.  Suddenly, as she continued
sucking his limp, deflated penis, his tongue jutted lizard-like up into
her vagina a little way, sampling, burrowing tentatively, and then
disappeared.  She felt her thighs being pressed farther open and she
sucked in her breath, swallowing deeply and with a gasp as his tongue
flicked into searing contact again, the tip teasing moistly against the
tiny bud of her clitoris and causing it to throb into greater welcome
hardness.  With his fingers he spread the opening of her cunt wide apart
and then, suddenly dropping his tongue from her tiny sensation-filled
bud, rammed it deep up into the moist pink flesh of her needful pussy.
     She jerked.  It was like no sensation she'd ever had before as his
tongue circled around maddeningly up inside her hot little cunt, the tip
flicking snake-like against the wetly sensitive walls of her virginal
young pussy.
     "More!  More!  Lick me, Daddy!  Keep licking!" Ellen groaned,
excited even by the lewd words she was saying as she lowered her
buttocks until her pussy mound was more demandingly in his face, the
gaping little opening of her anus just contracting, by virtue of the
obscene sixty-nine position, with the tip of his nose.
     Roger pulled the softness of her cuntal flesh ever wider apart with
his hands, stretching it cruelly as he heard her beg for more, and now
he raised his tongue to the small tightly puckering anus, thrust the tip
hard against it until he felt it give way slightly and the tip entered
just a tiny bit into the sensitively quivering mystery of her barely
adolescent rectum.  She fairly shrieked her joy now as he teased hotly
up into the incredible tightness inside her rectum.
     "Daddy!  Daddy!  Oh God, oh, my God!"
     Barely able to get his tongue in, he removed it, then moistening
one finger in the heated secretions of her passion-drenched cunt and
returning his mouth to her hotly palpitating little clitoris, he thrust
the wet finger forward into her tiny puckered anus, sinking it lewdly in
to the first knuckle.
     "Uuuuuugh!" she grunted.
     He thrust it into the second knuckle.
     "Uuuuuugh!  Daddy it hurts!  Daddy, it hurts, it hurts!"
     He held it motionless for a moment and thrust his tongue deep up
her hot hair-lined vagina again until she became accustomed to the
strange presence in her virginal nether passage, then he thrust a second
finger in.  She lay still, holding her breath with her mouth wide open,
her lips drawn tightly over her teeth to hold back the pain at this twin
reaming.  Then after an eternity, she began to slowly breathe again and
to submit herself to the wildly tingling sensations coursing up between
her widespread thighs.
     He was licking and sucking in earnest now, and at the same time
twisting his fingers around and around in her rectum, stretching it
wider with each brutal circle until the pain in her rear passage merged
warmly with the powerful pleasures coursing through her tongue-spread
pussy and she began thrusting her jiggling white buttocks back down on
his sodomizing fingers, swirling and skewering around them in obscene
rhythm with the hot lashing of his tongue.  The small narrow nether
passage clasped his fingers tightly, the ring of muscle pursuing his
fingers on the outstroke, and receding before his fingers on the
instroke.  He slid his free hand up over her back and pressed her
upraised buttocks down tight against his face, locking her to him in a
lewd wet connection of tongue and vagina, finger and rectum, her thin
blonde pubic hair grazing softly against his cheeks.
     Nothing mattered now to Ellen but the lovely swirling sensations
rippling in wave after voluptuous wave over every heated inch of her
naked young flesh.  She, like her father, had no morals now, no
inhibitions, no thoughts of anything but the present obscenely rapturous
sensations.  There was nothing else in the world, and she writhed and
twisted into his face and cruelly punishing finger gasping out all the
lewd words she had recently learned in school.
     "Oh God, Daddy!  Suck me!  Lick me!  Lick me!  Eat my cunt!  Ram
more fingers up my ass!  It's all yours!  Harder, darling!  Harder!
Lick it, lick it, suck it, eat it!  Eeeeeeee!  Aaaaaagh!"
     Her naked teenage body worked wildly on top of his, her smooth
white thighs spasmodically opening and closing on the sides of his head.
Roger could feel their warm resilience press tightly against his ears as
she would jerk up involuntarily from an extra deep thrust of his tongue
in her tight young cunt, or an extra hard twist of his impaling fingers
up her narrow rectum.  With his wide-open eyes he took in the whole
panorama of lust and saw her smoothly working belly begin to rise and 
fall more quickly, her head flailing out of control from side to side,
her long blonde hair lashing about his own reawakening loins.
     He thrust his tongue up deeper between her trembling thighs.
     She responded by sitting down still more to straddle the
mercilessly whipping tongue, sitting down on it so hard now that she
ground her father's head into the mattress from the pressure, his face
now at one with the wispy blonde plane of her widespread cuntal slit,
the two fingers he now had rammed up her tortured rectum just barely
managing to clear his nose and nearly breaking from the weight of her
tender buttocks bearing down on them.  Everything to him was one liquid
mass of erotically seeping vaginal juices and the room filled with
slurping, vacuum-like noises from Roger's lashing tongue in his teenage
daughter's passion-soaked vagina and from his fingers reaching and
twisting high up inside her widely stretched little anus.
     And suddenly it was just too much!  Ellen could feel that his cock
in her mouth was now bulbously erect again -- large and hard as before
-- and his tongue, even deep as it was now up in her vagina, was simply
not enough, not as much as that long desirable cock would be, she
thought.  She liked the punishing fingers worming around high up inside
her tightly clenched rectum but she would have to sacrifice them to get
what she really wanted.
     Ellen suddenly raised her thighs away from her father, his tongue
breaking contact with her hungering vagina with a quick wet noise and
his fingers departing from her rectum with a lewd wet gushing sound.
She pulled her mouth away from his impatiently throbbing cock and
quickly shifted around on the bed until her head was next to his, and
his blood-engorged shaft next to her still unsatisfied pussy.  She had
to have his long thick cock in her!  And now, right now!
     She reached her hands in panic over to her heavily breathing father
and grasped the full length of his stone-hard penis.  Then lying on her
back, she pressured it voraciously toward her pressured it so hard that
Roger had no choice but to follow.  She guided it hastily, in a panic,
up the warmly throbbing split of her buttocks, not letting it lose
contact with the soft sensitive flanges of her cunt until it was poised
directly over the hungrily trembling little lips of her naked vagina.
Still, even though he was now lying between her widespread legs, he was
hesitating.  What was it?  Wasn't she appealing to him?  Was she too
young?  Were the bodies of full-grown women any better?  Or was it ...
because ... she was his own lovely young daughter ...
     She hurriedly put a hand over his hard male buttocks her other hand
still tight around the base of his swollen rod, and with all her might
she tried to force this hardened, lust-filled thing she wanted so
desperately up between her long shapely legs.
     The young teenager felt the moist sensitive lips around her
throbbing vagina pushed teasingly open as her grasp succeeded in pulling
her father a fraction of an inch closer into her cock-hungry cunt.  The
elastic-rimmed tightness allowed this amount of forbidden penetration
since only the hot tapered beginning of the end of his cock had entered,
stretching it already as far as it seemed it could possibly stretch.
Yet, she had to have it inside her!  His thickly distended penis!  Deep
up inside!  Deeper than she could get with her fingers, deeper than her
father could fuck her with his maddeningly probing tongue.
     "Come on, Daddy, come on.  I need you so much," she whined as she
pushed once more on his buttocks, pulling at the same time with her hand
grasped around the base of his rock-hard cock.  The tight elastic rim of
her vagina gave way enough to admit nearly all of the bulbously swollen
head and this made her emit a long, low groan from deep within her
throat.  How could anything ever go in there?  God it hurt -- stretched
so much it felt like it would rip into a thousand tiny shreds.
     Her young virginal cunt was on fire with the pain and yet she had
not released her tightly locked grip on his clenching buttocks and Roger
himself, getting his first lewd taste of the clasping, teasing softness
of her cunt, was drunkenly adding substantial pressure of his own.  The
blood-inflated head disappeared from his view into her wetly clamping
young vagina, and he felt the warm moist walls slipping over his
throbbing rigidity like warm melted butter.  When had he ever felt a hot
little cunt like that?  Twenty long years ago?  This would be a fuck he
would not forget all of his life.  His head tipped back loosely as he
flexed his buttocks and pushed in still farther, spearing up into his
thirteen-year-old daughter's cunt without mercy.
     Ellen was no longer helping him and both her hands lay clenched
into tight little fists at her sides as she squirmed and twisted like a
madwoman at the now excruciating impalement of her tiny young cunt.
She'd wanted it, she'd wanted it, yes, but God did it hurt!  She tried
relaxing her muscles to ease the pain, but it only made the pain worse.
So she tightened her cuntal muscles again and the result was that Roger,
feeling her do it, misinterpreted it as sexual excitement, as
participation in the sensual fucking and shoved cruelly forward now with
all his might.  Her splayed young teenaged cunt clasped so tightly
around his cock that the two might have been one piece of flesh, he had
never felt anything so maddeningly tight, and it wildly incited him.
With a mad frantic thrust he sank the lust-inflated rod of flesh all the
way into the hilt, ignoring Ellen's vain and prolonged moan of pain
until his sperm-filled balls smacked sharply against the nakedly
upturned crevice of her buttocks.
     "Aaaaaaggh!" his pretty blonde daughter writhed nakedly below him.
The cock felt like an enormous drill boring through the depths of the
belly, battering and smashing everything before it in great waves of
warm moist flesh.  She said a thousand thanks when it reached its full
length and at last remained motionless, for at least it was no longer
tearing her apart.
     Roger's sperm-laden balls hung like a pendulum against the cheeks
of her roundly cringing ass.
     But the respite was brief for he began now to slowly pump back and
forth, to fuck deeply back and forth as she'd seen in her movies -- only
when she'd watched it in the movies, with her finger massaging her erect
little clitoris, it did not feel like this.  God, was a grown man's cock
big!  She saw it sliding in and out of her, covered with her flowing
vaginal juices, and the sight was as astounding as the feeling, the
outer, fuzz-fringed ring of her violated vagina clamping the hardened
rod as tightly as a rubberband, and she was surprised that her helpless
and naked body did not in fact burst as it felt it was doing.  She had
reached the ultimate breaking point, and she could no longer find the
strength to even twist and writhe her rhythmically fucking father.
There was no reason to struggle even if she had found the strength.  He
had totally conquered her; she held her legs open in servile acceptance
as a slave of old, to re lewdly used as her master desired.  And, in any
case, the whole thing had been her idea, she had in fact been plotting
salaciously since she'd discovered the nail-hole several days before.
She had wanted it this afternoon when she stood in the beach house
gyrating wantonly and abusing herself with her own stroking fingers
before her father's gaping eyes.  She had wanted it also during the
whole lewd performance in this room, a performance lasciviously
calculated to seduce him.  Yet she had not known it would turn out to be
so painful to give up one's virginity.  As things turned out, she was
the one seduced.
     Roger looked down and could see his curly black pubic hair tangled
tightly with the sparse blonde curls between her legs, the base of his
thick fleshy rod buried deep up into the pinkly throbbing furrow that
his tongue had licked to a forbidden passion only moments before.  He
could see the lips of his daughter's tight little cunt stretched almost
to the bursting point, the rubbery outer-lips clasping firmly around the
thick blue-veined base of his invading cock.
     Ellen flexed her vaginal muscles again in a futile attempt to
relieve the pain, but the tantalizing throb of her internal sinews made
it worse and again Roger interpreted it as still more encouragement.  He
plowed his way still deeper and deeper up into her vainly resisting
passage, the walls of her futilely cringing little pussy clasping around
him firmly as a glove.  Ellen could feel every fleshy ridge of his cock
as her nerve ends transmitted its monstrous pulsating form in minute
detail to her muddled mind.  It was alive inside her!  The hard rubbery
tip was pressing up against the tender surface of her womb, and at the
other end -- miles of sensations away -- the hairs of his lust-inflamed
balls dangling in the crevice of her buttocks tickled salaciously
against her unprotected flesh.  She was one with this totally impaling
cock and in spite of her pain her tongue began a wild licking at the
soft moistness of her lips.  There was still traces of her father's
white smooth cum on them and her nostrils flared, drawing the pungent
male odor deep into her body, mingling it in a strange marriage with the
feeling of the throbbing cock lodged deep up in her white soft belly.
It all seemed to roll together into one great fiery ball of hunger --
painful hunger -- for still more, and her cunt contracted again in
involuntary response at the lascivious thoughts coursing obscenely
through her mind.
     Roger pumped faster, the tingling in his throbbing cock as Ellen
squeezed her internal vaginal muscles maddeningly delicious to him.
This would be a fuck, all right.  No, this was a fuck!
     "Oh," she whimpered through bared teeth, fighting the fine and
indistinct line between pressure and pain.
     He set a slow teasing rhythm to his throbs, noticing her nostrils
begin a slow flaring in time to the rhythmically lewd beat.  He heard
with astonishment some soft surprised sounds of unexpected pleasure
mingled with pain coming from her open mouth in time to his gentle
pumping.
     "Oooooohhhh, Daddy, Daddy!"
     She began to throb back, her wet clasping cuntal flesh opening and
closing softly around his excitedly pulsating cock, as her grunts of
pleasure increased until they resounded heavily throughout the room.
Her head rolled wantonly from side to side on the pillow as her hips
began grinding around in a slow, teasing circle beneath his impaling
rod.  She was totally subdued now, had found she liked it and her hungry
vagina began to nibble pleasurably at his cock, to screw itself up
tighter toward his hair-covered loins.
     Ellen's body felt fully alive now.  The pain was receding and the
maddening electric tingle that had begun deep within her belly had now
reached relentlessly through the entire naked area up between her legs.
It rippled through her cunt and over the curl-lined lips, dancing like
fire across the milk-white thighs, up the full length of her widely
splayed legs and against even the sensitive bottoms of her feet.  It
pulsed its way up from her spasmodically contracting belly through her
rib cage and all the way out to the tips of her erectly palpitating
nipples which were so aroused now they felt even the brush of the air
around them.
     She rotated her hips excitedly from side to side around the ever-
expanding, impaling member, her no longer virginal vagina dilating in
time to its rhythmic beating.  The cock and her pussy were both
obscenely alive from the same cause, it was all one fleshy mass of
joyful sensation, she thought, and It extended very far, beginning with
the heat of the head of her father's driving cock which she savored now
through the walls of her clasping inner passage, and stepping -- well,
she did not know where, but in her present ecstatic rapture it seemed to
end somewhere out in another universe of sensual pleasure.
     Roger could scarcely contain his joy as he felt her responding
young cunt begin skewering hungrily even more up against the length of
his rock-hard penis.  The muscles inside her little adolescent pussy
were nibbling away greedily at the inflated head.  The dilated lips of
her hair-lined pink slit pulled teasingly away, sliding wetly down the
fleshy rod for several inches and then nibbling slowly back up,
buffering her soft blonde pussy curls tightly against his own lust-
matted pubic hair, embedding the full length of his hotly throbbing
penis deep up into her warm white belly.  He became immobile for a
moment resting still above her with his palms on either side of her
shoulders, his knees pressed tight against the mattress and let her
palpitating body pump up and down at will on his wildly jerking penis.
     Her father could see its slow withdrawal between them, pulling the
soft edges of her youthful pink cuntal flesh out with it as she ground
her hips down into the bed -- and the entry, pushing the same softly
yielding folds back up into her cunt again as the moist shiny length got
swallowed up whole into the salaciously tight opening.
     He let her strain eagerly against him for awhile, watching the
utter abandon now of her labors, an ecstatic smile dancing across her
lips.  By the second her motions were becoming faster, the tempo of her
jerks up his cock became more erotically urgent -- her teeth bit hard
into her lower lip.  She was straining to cum, and the secretions of her
milking vagina were flowing copiously and causing the in-and-out strokes
to produce frantic sucking sounds which incited him to the same desire-
maddened pitch his teenage daughter had reached.  He resumed his labors
with a passion, matching the speed of her own strokes with his, with
each wet sharp thrust burying his cock deep into her trembling belly.
Her back began to arch up from the bed, her feet planted firmly on
either side of his knees as she bucked wildly against him in her over
powering need.
     "Daddy!  Darling Daddy!" Oh God, yes, I think I'm cumming!" She
arched her back up until it was like a taut bow, and Roger's cock the
arrow.  "Daddy, I'm cumming, darling, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm
cumming.  Aaaaaagghhh!"
     With a deep-throated groan -- similar to the one which only fifteen
minutes before had been of a virgin's pain -- her body began to vibrate
uncontrollably, her own orgiastic juices oozing from the hotly throbbing
passage of her vagina.  The extra lubrication and the new vibrations
sent the sharpest feelings of all to Roger's own heavily aching penis
and suddenly it swelled into a hugeness that could not be contained, and
a great pressure jerked the entire length of Roger's cock as it began to
spurt out uncontrollably its impatient semen.
     Ellen could feel the delicious hot white liquid shooting into her
like burning fire, ricocheting about inside her dilated young cunt like
streams of molten lava.  The pores of her tightly clinging little pussy
grasped around it, erupting in answer again and again as her own
orgasmic juices flowed out against his pelvis, drowning his ejaculating
member with silky warmth, and trickling down the crevice of her whitely
quivering buttocks over his erupting balls that pressed hard against her
expanding and contracting anus.
     Ellen reached around her squirming buttocks with both hands and
began to desperately milk at her father's testicles pressed into the
widespread crevice of her buttocks.  She wanted to get the very last
drop, it was so good!  Her climax began to slowly recede and so did
Roger's, but it was still nice, these last smooth strokes, and her legs
kicked out, spiraling tremulously up in the air as Roger's slowly
deflating cock jerked its last, the sperm now foaming out of the
drenched pussy-lips around the base of his thick fleshy rod.  The smooth
semen-flooded walls of her twitching cunt sucked and sucked hungrily at
the palpitating cock until, in an instant, Roger gave one final
spasmodic jerk and collapsed across her body just as Ellen's trembling
legs also came to rest on the bed, deflating cock still inside her, the
mingled juices of both father and daughter still flooding out over their
exhausted, satisfied loins.



                                Chapter 6

     Evenings -- normal evenings, that is -- were quite predictable in
the Johnston house.  There would be a brief period during which Roger
and Cynthia would sit across from each other in the living room, Cynthia
generally on a corner of the sofa nearest the wall of books, Roger
halfway across the room in his very plush, adjustable leather chair,
about which were cluttered magazines and newspapers and also still more
of his business documents.
     From Roger's side, he saw Cynthia framed into the scene of books,
sofa, three paintings -- one of Cynthia -- and a window which showed the
ocean approximately half, a mile in distance.  He liked this view and he
could easily -- in fact he often did -- become sentimental over the
picture of Cynthia it presented to him.  A trust worthy, loyal,
attractive wife is what Roger saw.
     And from the opposite side of the room, Cynthia saw her husband
slouching -- he nearly always slouched when he sat -- in that leather
dentist's chair she'd never wanted him to buy, with a background of the
fireplace she loved but which hardly ever got used simply because Roger
seldom thought of it, of an enormous picture window which looked out on
nothing more than several other identical picture windows, and of the
half-dozen chairs and the other couch which were never touched because
they never had any guests.  Most negatively she noted the business
papers at her husband's side.  Those papers never left him; or rather,
he had alternate configurations of them for wherever he went -- one for
his study upstairs, one for here, one for the car, and, of course, one
for the office.  She begrudged him none except the set he kept here --
the one place she and her husband might have had some chance for
personal contact.
     There was another aspect of Cynthia's view.  If she ignored or
looked beyond her husband, she saw the piano which in a happier age she
herself had played sometimes while her little daughter Ellen danced.
These last weeks Ellen seemed to have matured over night and, in fact,
was becoming rather wild, even unmanageable.  Just as Cynthia was not at
the piano, Ellen was not to be seen in the living room.  They did manage
to keep the girl in the house, but Ellen spent the time in her room, or
in the basement, or anywhere but in the scene of this large, empty
deathly still living room.
     And with the older girl, Louise, it was the same; or at least her
absence from this room was the same.  Over in the far corner was the
little desk and chair, and the comfortable old plush reading chair next
to it which they'd moved there five years before when the pitch of
school had become more intense.  Louise had always needed contact with,
and guidance from, others a bit more than Ellen, and she'd been lonely
studying in her room.  So they'd made an ideal spot for her here, a spot
where she could still be at least in sight of others while doing
necessary work.  It had been a happy arrangement, but now, Louise was
also absent, having taken to spending her time in the basement, or in
her room, or away with her boy friend -- she was allowed to spend
unsupervised time with her boy friend.  She did not, apparently, find
necessary anymore the companionship and parental guidance she had once
sought in this room.
     Which was the sadder for Cynthia?  Seeing her husband slouched in
his chair escaping from his own wife in his damnable business papers?
Or the ghostly absence of her children who had once formed so large a
part of her life?  Whichever, Cynthia was a disturbed woman, and her
response was exactly that of her daughters.  She wanted to escape this
room, to simply get the hell out.
     "Good-bye, Roger."
     Having broke the silence with that, Cynthia went straight to the
hall to get her coat, and in a moment was driving away in her car.  She
would be on time for her pottery course, but now the room she had left
was even stiller, with just the sound of the clock ticking to slice the
silence.
     Roger was conscious that his wife had left, and he got up, crossed
the room to the little antique liquor cabinet, and retrieved a bottle
and a glass.  Then he sat again in the chair and began methodically to
drink, his reason for drinking -- the thing that was currently bugging
him -- the fact that several days before he'd fucked his thirteen-year-
old daughter, Ellen.  The effects on him of this were extremely
complicated and had brought him into something of a daze -- the daze
which his wife had so happily just fled from.  Yes, Roger had fucked
Ellen, taken her virginity, sunk his cock all the way up to the balls
into the formerly chaste pussy of his own young little daughter.  And
was he now consumed in guilt?  Did he now regret the obscene act, did he
search the depths of his soul to wonder how he could possibly set it
right?
     No!  He did not feel a bit guilty!  In fact, right now he was
remembering the crazy suction of his daughter's hotly clasping little
vagina, as his penis had rocked maddeningly in and out.  He was trying
to remember every detail of the time he had spent locked in lust with
her naked young body.
     Roger drank now because he did not feel guilty, and this worried
him, this worried him very much.  A simpler man than Roger might have
felt guilt to such an extent that he would expect God to hurl a
lightning bolt at him from heaven for his forbidden act.  Roger was more
realistic and knew that the union of one cock with one cunt did not
upset the balance of the universe.  But he also knew in his case that it
was wrong, and that he should feel guilt.  He wanted to feel guilt, he
thought as he poured himself another drink, the splash of the liquid in
the glass breaking the room's silence.  Guilt!  Guilt!  Guilt, damn it,
give me guilt! he thought, and emptied the glass very quickly.
     Still, no guilt.
     Roger started in his chair from the sudden knowledge that the room
was not empty.  Was he going mad?  No, no ... it was just that so seldom
did anyone join him in here.  He twisted his head and saw Ellen walking
across the room behind him to a cabinet.  She opened it, retrieved
something, closed it, and walked nonchalantly all the way across the
room and out again, neither glancing at her father nor away from him.
     Maybe things were not so bad after all.  Yes, maybe the little
event could be tucked into the past and forgotten since Ellen hadn't
seemed to be affected by it just then.  Scar tissue did, after all, grow
over wounds; there must be some analogous process ... Roger left the
thought unfinished as his mind, more relaxed now, began to forget the
whole thing.  He leaned back still farther in the chair in a welcome
comfort, deciding that things were not so bad after all.  No, things ...
were not so bad ... after ...
     Blonde stark naked Ellen appeared reflected to him in the living
room mirror as she descended the hall staircase.
     She was not looking at her father.  Did she know he saw her?  Those
rose-tipped young titties swaying as she went down the stairs, nipples
bobbing around, pointing up toward the ceiling!  Christ, now she was
facing him full as she reached the bottom of the circular staircase, the
blonde curling triangle of her sparse young pubic hair reproduced in
perfect detail in the mirror for a moment.  Then she was in voluptuous
profile -- she was walking through the hall, thank God! -- her long
blonde hair swirling about her shoulders, the tight yet jelly-like flesh
of her untanned buttocks swinging into view as her steps began to angle
away from the mirror now toward the basement door.  Up, down, up, down;
so fluid and yet so solid, so tempting, that gorgeous ass of hers -- to
think he had caressed it, crushed it, in his own hands!
     Ellen disappeared from the mirror.
     There was a noise of the basement door opening -- it seemed to him
noisily, it seemed to him Ellen did want him to notice what she was
doing -- and then closing with a bang.  Then the sound of Ellen's bare
feet padding quickly down the basement steps to the recreation room.
And then silence.
     Roger could have borne anything but that silence!  What was she
doing down there?  Naked, no less?  It was just a recreation room, with
a TV, a record player, a locked-up bar.  Did she want him to join her?
     More important, did he want to join her?
     Roger's confusion was increased tenfold when the mirror at his side
again became occupied.
     It was occupied for a total of perhaps only five seconds, but those
five seconds were so full to Roger that they stretched into an eternity
in his mind.
     Who occupied it?  Ellen was in the basement, Cynthia was gone.  Who
was the naked creature that rushed so quickly into his view?  The
apparition was so unexpected that at first he really didn't know who it
was.
     Louise!
     Louise without one stitch of clothing on her lush, seventeen-year-
old, full woman's body.  Louise!  What a difference from that time he'd
ogled her at the beach!  Then her body had been partly concealed by her
modest two-piece bathing suit and, he had been reduced to counting the
wisps of dark pubic hair escaping from the tight leg bands of the suit.
He had waited anxiously for one of the milk-white mounds of her fully
matured breasts to heave completely out of the top of her suit, and he
had been disappointed when it had not happened.  He had not seen her
undressed since she was ten so until now he had only guessed at what she
would look like naked.  His lustful fantasy on the beach that day, had
guessed that her nipples, like her breasts would be bigger than Ellen's
and darker in color; and that her pubic hair would be as dark as the
hair on her head: He imagined that her buttocks of which he had only
seen the dimples above her bathing suit bottoms, would be so full, the
cheeks squeezing against one another so tightly, that the crevice
between would be a long narrow valley of shadow, perhaps twice the
length and depth of her younger sister Ellen's.  The net effect of the
full rounded mounds of her buttocks would be like the old classic French
playing card he still had in his study, the one showing the woman
standing on her knees in a chair, her arched backside presented up to
the camera, negligee lifted halfway up to her shoulders, the whitely
curving moons of her buttocks swelling in space so tantalizingly, so
temptingly, that Roger thought if he ever saw an ass like that in the
flesh instead of in a picture he would lose his mind!
     And that's what he had seen just now: His daughter Louise's full,
fleshy, rounded buttocks fluid as a bowl of jello as the white half-
moons played against one another, a long, dark, deep cleavage between
them which angled lewdly from side to side as she walked.  God!  God
almighty!  What he couldn't do with that hot young ass!  He had never in
his life done anything to an ass except run his hand smoothly across it,
until the other day when he had allowed himself to prod with his
sodomizing fingers Ellen's lean, young, barely developed one as it hung
suspended invitingly above him.
     But with Louise's ass there would be so much more to do -- her ass
was to him the vision of lust incarnate!  After only the first glimpse
of the nakedly heaving mounds, his aroused penis was pressing hard and
throbbing against his confining pants.  Every man has his ideal, and in
Louise's buttocks Roger saw his in action as his daughter came into full
view and undulated away toward the basement door.  What an ultimate
irony that these buttocks were possessed by his own daughter, by someone
he had in fact created as a product of his own lust!
     Louise's pubic hair was a soft coal-black "vee" where her moving
legs came together, and through it he could not glimpse her cunt as
easily as he could through Ellen's sparse blonde pubic curls.  What
Louise had between her legs was a mystery even as he stared at her
nakedly voluptuous tantalizing form, a mystery which the intense
blackness of the hair heightened against the ivory whiteness of her
skin.
     Not even as her full firm thighs parted with her quick walk, not
even as he caught sight of the dark blush receding back between her
legs.  What would she have?  Full softly swelling cuntal lips, a
glistening pink slit -- untouched, he wondered? -- a deep passage which
would be fully able to nibble at the entire throbbing length of his long
thick cock.  Christ, what was he thinking!  This was his daughter, his
methodical, somewhat lethargic, older daughter Louise.  Now he felt
guilt, all right.  But still he stared at her provocatively moving hips
and wondered what her hidden cuntal flesh was actually like.  He really
wanted to know.  The girl's smooth white belly rose in tight, perfect
proportion, indeed as perfect as her entire voluptuous body was in
proportion.  Louise!  Louise!  Louise!  He wanted to call out again as
he had done at the beach, but this time he contained himself.
     Her breasts were fully ripened -- as he had imagined them -- and
the nipple buds were, as he'd thought, a darker color than Ellen's, with
blushing pink areolas that swelled tantalizingly around the tips,
inviting his hands and his watering mouth to a lewd caress.  A pair of
hugely set breasts like that was almost obscene and beyond belief.
     Louise at last slipped from Roger's wide-eyed view.  She had gone
by very quickly, in fact tiptoeing, trying not to make any noise at all.
She clearly did not want to attract his attention, wanted instead to
slip by unnoticed.  The basement door opened softly and then closed
without a sound.  Again Roger heard bare feet padding eagerly down the
basement stairs.
     What sort of a sexual mad house was his home turning into, he
wondered.  What an enticing body Louise had!  My God, what was she doing
down in the basement with Ellen?  Both of his daughters were at it --
whatever it was.
     Whatever it was.
     Roger tremblingly poured himself a stiff drink, hastily downed it,
and then followed the girls.



                                Chapter 7

     He crept down the basement stairs noiselessly, step by silent step,
until he stood just before the door at the bottom which led to the
recreation room.
     In agony he grabbed the knob, slowly twisting it, and it must have
taken him a full minute, he was so careful to be sure he was unobserved.
Then he pushed the door open just wide enough to afford him a view.  Was
he observed?  He stared at the two naked girls sitting on the couch in
profile to him for any sign of recognition or reaction to his presence,
and there was none.  The young sisters sat a few feet apart on the couch
in a very business-like fashion staring straight before them, as though
waiting for something to happen.  But what?  That's what he'd come so
carefully down here to discover.
     Blonde, thirteen-year-old Ellen flicked out the single table lamp
at her side just as her father realized that a film had already been
threaded in a projector and was running through the preliminary scratchy
white frames, causing the now-dark room to flicker.
     What were his two daughters up to?  That was his office projector
they were using, and he hadn't realized they knew how to run it.  And
did they have some of his films, too?  Which?  The one on the virtues of
fire insurance, which featured billowing flames in full color?  Is that
what they removed their clothes for and snuck down to the basement to
see?  Could such a thing turn them on?
     The film began.
     A dark-haired girl of normal build was seen walking into a
furnished room, that of a motel.  The film was in color and the girl
wore a purple dress.  She sat on the couch and began immediately to
massage her full, firmly set breasts through the material of the dress.
     Ah yes, their father knew now what this was -- a stag film!  He'd
seen a couple -- there were ads to obtain them in all of the men's
magazines.  The girl would now remove her dress, give a brief glimpse of
her ripe young breasts and buttocks and perhaps for a moment also her
curly pubic triangle, and then the film would end.  But to the girls,
after all, this was probably quite something.  But why were they so
brazenly naked themselves?  Were they going to add to the action of the
film?
     Already Roger began to see he was wrong.  The girl had shed her
dress so quickly and begun to massage her curving breasts so
passionately that the film apparently was going to take a different
course from the simple strip-tease he'd expected.
     "Nice, isn't it?" his youngest daughter, Ellen, asked seventeen-
year-old Louise, putting her arm up behind the pretty brunette on the
couch, although not touching her sister.
     "Yes, I suppose," Louise said.  "If you like this sort of thing."
     In the movie, the purple dress peeled down from the dark-haired
girl's naked breasts.  The girl now spread her legs quickly and
indecently, revealing her cunt, and then closed her legs in order to
pull the dress down the rest of the way from her young body.  She had
soft dark brown pubic hair, and with her dress off now she spread her
legs wide apart once more and began to stroke her open vaginal slit with
the extended middle fingers of each hand, one after the other, staring
down at herself.  The camera began to pan in towards the girl's
glistening pussy until it gradually became ten times larger than life on
the screen, the little pink tip of her clitoris the size of a watermelon
throbbing excitedly away at the top of the girl's slit as her fingers
stroked and prodded up and down the fleshy pink hair-lined lips.  The
girl worked faster and faster, and began to rotate her hips to force her
cuntal softness into a better angle with the stroking fingers.  The
camera began to pan away from the close-up, showing the girl's heaving
breasts and tossing hair, and then the girl suddenly stopped the lewd
fingering, closed her legs, and lay quickly on the couch, stomach down.
     On the couch she began gyrating wildly, forcing her round white
buttocks up and down, grinding her heated pussy into the couch, as
though pulling herself on and off of a nonexistent cock.  She turned her
head to the camera and smiled, and then spread her legs as she continued
the provocative gyrating of her stomach.  Now her wetly glistening cunt
came into view from the rear as the camera still kept its distance.  The
dark hair of her cunt glinted in and out of view as she raised and
lowered her thighs, squeezing her smoothly molded buttocks together.  It
was both tantalizing and aggravating, since because of his position, the
distance of the camera and the quality of the film Roger could not get a
good view, but instead saw only the flashes of dark curls appear from
below the milk-white of the feverishly gyrating buttocks.
     "She looks like you," Ellen said to Louise.
     "Silly," Louise responded.  "It's not true."
     And it wasn't true, either, their spying father reflected.  Louise
was built much better than the girl on the screen, who turned her face
once more to the camera and smiled as the camera panned slightly closer
over her round, firm-fleshed buttocks.  Louise was better built, but
there were points of similarity in the invitingly rounded ass.
     On the couch before Roger, blonde Ellen's arm had now dropped to
Louise's shoulder, and the curvaceous seventeen-year-old brunette
snuggled herself under it in response to its initial touch.  Roger could
see the two pretty girls on the couch better than he could see the girl
in the film, as the action of the film progressed still more his eyes
were drawn to the screen instead of to the real naked flesh before him.
     "Silly," Louise said again.  "You want it so often." She put her
arm now also around the young blonde girl just as Ellen looked over at
Louise, dropping her blue eyes for a moment to the hugely set breasts
with the full pink nipples.  Ellen guiltily removed her hungry eyes, and
both girls once more watched the screen.
     The camera had now moved to within a few scant inches of the girl's
gyrating buttocks showing in perfect detail the wetly glistening cunt
pausing a moment to show that the tight little cuntal ring was opening
and closing, and then moving upward and pausing again to show that the
tiny brown ring of her anus was also quivering and closing.
     "Yours is nicer," Ellen said.
     "Stop it!  Don't be so dirty!" responded the older teenager.
     "I'm not dirty.  And you know that you like it," Ellen said.  "It's
just a simple fact that your body is so nice, every inch of it.  I could
lick you from head to toe, Louise.  I really should.  We've never done
that, you know."
     "Stop it, stop," Louise said, but she did not sound too sincere.
     Their peeping father could not believe his ears.  Was this his own
house, and were these his own daughters sounding like practiced
lesbians?  What an upsetting idea!  But on the other hand, if the two
naked and curvaceous teenagers actually began to do something -- as it
sounded as though they might -- what a good chance to look at their
succulent little bodies in action!
     On the flickering screen the girl stopped her wild gyrating and the
camera backed off somewhat as a man entered the room and advanced toward
the naked girl on the couch.  The man lowered his trousers without
further ado, to reveal an erect and unusually large cock.  The camera
caught the girl's expression ooooooooh! she mouthed.  Aaaaaaaaahhh!  The
man advanced toward her.
     She leaped up and took his long white penis into her mouth so
deeply that she seemed to want to stuff it down her throat.
     Wherever had Ellen gotten this filthy, corrupt film?  Roger
wondered.  No doubt she'd found contacts to buy such things in her
school.  Thirteen years old and she probably already knew how to
distinguish between good and second-rate pornography!  On the screen
this movie appeared to be first rate!
     The camera panned around, trying various angles from which to
continue recording the girl voraciously sucking on the man's long, thick
penis.  Finally, it settled on a revealing angle at a distance great
enough to show not only the thick swollen hardness reaching up into the
girl's distorted mouth, but also her widespread legs where her one hand
which was not cupping the man's heavy balls scrambled down to her pussy
and again began lewdly fingering the pouting pink lips.
     "This is pretty good," Louise said as the thirteen-year-old boldly
dropped her hand down to Louise's naked white breast, the smaller girl's
hand like that of a doll's against the incredible softness of Louise's
breast.
     "It should be good, I paid ten dollars for it!" Ellen said.  "It's
a new film ..." she lowered her voice throatily ... "darling, and I've
never seen it before now.  I've no idea how it ends."
     The blonde-haired Ellen paused, her hand now pressing boldly into
the firm smooth flesh of her older sister's lushly formed breast,
squeezing, relaxing, squeezing, gently rubbing back and forth over the
sensitive nipple, relaxing.  "I imagine it ends with some screwing
though!"
     "Ellen!  You're filthy!"
     Ellen laughed.  "I didn't say fucking.  But now I'll say it -- the
film probably ends with him fucking her good.  Fucking!  Just like I'm
going to be doing something to you!"
     Ignoring the film which was progressing rapidly, she lowered her
head to Louise's ripely swelling breasts, and met with her mouth the
large enticing mounds her hand prodded upward.  The contact with the
dark pink areola seemed to make her wild -- she began licking and
sucking at Louise's lewdly bouncing breasts like a cat until the entire
quivering expanse of both of her nipples was wet.  Louise herself seemed
to neither like nor dislike what Ellen was doing to her nakedly exposed
breasts, and still held herself a bit aloof from Ellen as well as from
the obscene film.
     The man's cock on the screen popped from the girl's widely ovalled
mouth, and the girl quickly lay down on her back on the couch, with her
long lithe legs spread apart.  The man climbed up between her legs on
his knees and, taking one knee in each hand, smoothly forced them wide
apart.  He took a finger and ran it up and down her moistly glistening
slit, and then parted the soft pink inner lips and thrust it up into her
unprotected vagina.  The girl started, but by the time the man had
pumped the finger in and out several times, her hips were already
gyrating sensually to add to the strokes.  The camera began its familiar
pan inward again, seeking the optimal angle from which to reveal the
tight little cunt clamping hungrily at the finger of the man who was
prodding up into her with a lewd expression contorting his face.
     From between the mounds of her sister's saliva-wettened breasts,
Ellen murmured, her voice sounding drunk, "I'm going to eat you alive,
Louise, you luscious mountain of flesh." She looked up at the other
girl's face -- which was that of a martyr, not at all encouraging,
obviously wanting some sort of encouragement or at least a response.
     "You want that, don't you, Louise?" she pleaded.
     There was a long pause and Louise said finally, "You poor hot
little girl, Ellen."
     Ellen's response was immediate: she took one hand and slapped, with
all of her might one of Louise's nakedly exposed breasts.  The smack
resounded throughout the room and the pretty brunette screamed in terror
and surprise at her younger sister's attack.
     "Poor hot little girl, am I?" Ellen screamed and she drew back her
hand again as though to strike her fearfully cringing sister again in
the breasts, but she didn't.  "Poor hot little bitch?  Well I'll tell
you a thing or two -- why did you drag your big naked elephant's carcass
down here?  Why?  Just tell me why?" She threatened with the hand again,
poising it directly over the end of Louise's helplessly exposed breast.
She was raging mad, and the older girl was clearly in her power.
     "To ... to come down here."
     "Hah!" screamed Ellen as she drove her flattened hand against
Louise's breast with all the strength she possessed in her thirteen-
year-old body, brutally slamming the defenselessly naked breast against
the older girl's chest.  A pink welt-like ring formed around the edge of
the round ruby-like areola, the tiny nipple in the center protruding
painfully outward.
     "To come down here, to come down here," Ellen repeated, half
screaming still.  "Titties hanging out bare in front of you, and you're
still trying to play cold and proper!  Stop it!  Stop it, I say!" Ellen
had her flattened hand again poised threateningly over Louise, this time
over the other trembling still unslapped breast.  Ellen slowly --
somewhat in control of herself again -- moved her hand forward and
reflectively tweaked the small protrusion in the very middle of the dark
pink areola.  She grabbed it with two fingers and her thumb and pulled
out on it slightly, twisting it, feeling it enlarge and pulse in her
grip, manipulating it gently in a way which was more tender than
punishing.  Continuing this lewd playing, Ellen said now in a very quiet
voice, "Louise, what did you come down here for?"
     "For ... for what we're doing," admitted Louise.
     "Go ahead, say it exactly," Ellen demanded in a somewhat harsher
tone of voice, stretching and pulling outward on the painfully distended
nipple.
     "So you could do it to me," Louise said, pleading.
     "Not good enough!" responded Ellen.  She now released her somewhat
harsh grip on the quivering milk-white breast and began to rub the
swollen nipple very tenderly and soothingly, slowly, with her entire
palm.  "Go ahead, say it exactly," Ellen demanded once more.  "I can
tell your boyfriend what we've been up to here these last couple of
nights, what we've discovered!  Or I can tell Mommy!  I can tell Daddy!
Why, if he found out, first he would whip the clothes off your back and
then he would do it to you himself!"
     Roger started.  Arbitrary as the things which Ellen said in her
anger were, they had a smack of truth to them.
     "Oh, all right," said Louise, at last submitting.  "I came down
here so we could fuck each other!"
     "Right!" responded the victorious Ellen, still softly rubbing her
older sister's naked breast.  "And you want it, right, you want it just
as much as me!"
     "I want it," the older teenager said truthfully, still cringing.
     "Good!  Now get off this couch and onto the ground on all fours."
     "Wh-wh-what?"
     "You heard me!  Down on all fours!"
     The voluptuously naked teenager lifted herself off the couch and
dropped onto the floor on her hands and knees as told, her helplessly
upturned buttocks dead-center in both her sister's and father's line-of-
view.  What an incitingly rounded ass!  Lord!  It was a crime to ever
cover it in clothes!
     "Now crawl!" the younger blonde girl demanded.  "Crawl back and
forth between here and the movie screen until I say to stop: crawl back
and forth, to show me how much you want it!"
     The frightened and confused Louise began to crawl, her full firm
breasts hanging obscenely down in front of her, the distended nipples
coming near to the floor, the smooth sensuous curves of her uplifted
buttocks jiggling in a wanton rhythm from the erratic crawling motion of
her knees across the room.  "Go on!" Ellen said, returning her view to
the screen as Louise continued crawling slowly around the room.
     On the screen the man had suddenly removed his finger from the
girl's naked cunt and squatted down, bringing his cock hard up between
her legs.  The girl took one hand and gripped the erected rod of flesh
just above the balls and guided it toward her anxiously waiting vagina.
It teased the edges of her soft hair-lined slit, parting them slowly,
and wormed around the tight elastic circle of the inner vaginal opening
as the camera panned in close again, and then with agonizing slowness it
teased its way up into her cuntal depths, the huge rubbery cock-head
just parting the opening of the tight little hole and stopping at a mere
half-an-inch of penetration.
     The camera switched to the pain-contorted girl's face.  "More!
More!" she shouted, and though the film was silent her mouth and her
hand movements made her words perfectly clear.
     The rock-hard cock continued its slow burrowing penetration, and
the girl, unable to bear it, arched her back impatiently up off the
couch and tried to speed the process.
     Still closer to Roger, Ellen arched her own back up off the couch;
she had a finger stuck up into her hot hair-lined pussy mouth and was
thrusting it forcefully in and out with an obscene slurping sound.
     The crawling Louise was now directly in sight of Ellen's wildly
gyrating cunt and she looked at the thirteen-year-old's widespread
pussy, and then up at her girlish face; Ellen returned Louise's look.
There was renewed communication between the young sister's now.
     "Louise," Ellen said in a soft voice, still prodding her wet little
hole with her spearing middle finger, "Louise, darling, it's enough now.
I see that you're sorry.  Come back here, please."
     The voluptuous brunette crawled a few more paces on her knees, the
smooth deep crevice of her buttocks waving thrillingly from side to side
in Roger's view, and then she crawled up on the couch and sat next to
the naked blonde girl.
     On the screen the man's entire throbbing length was now sunk in up
to the hilt, his balls rocking back and forth, obscenely smacking the
cheeks of the woman's still upturned, arched buttocks.
     Louise could see the film again now, and she gaped at what she saw,
and gasped out loud.  Ellen, seeing her voluptuous sister suddenly so
close to her, and also the wild fucking on the screen, groaned too, a
deep, throaty, animal-like groan of unquenched desire.  In a single
instant's time she sprang onto the floor and knelt between Louise's
parted legs, her own firm young breasts bobbing up and down from the
sudden motion.  Louise stared at the film and continued sighing, now in
a state of obvious abandoned excitement -- perhaps her inhibitions had
been broken by the fight with her younger sister and the humiliation of
having to crawl naked on the floor before her.  Whatever the cause, she
was enraptured in advance at what the other girl was going to do to her.
     Ellen placed her tongue on Louise's knee and flicked it, sampling,
then stuck it full out and began licking flatly upward in the direction
of her older sister's vagina.  Louise, seeing the impassioned man on the
screen now slamming his cock in and out of the girl's naked vagina at a
fevered staccato pitch -- groaned piteously in lewd anticipation of
Ellen's hotly licking tongue.  But Ellen worked upward very cunningly
and slowly, enjoying prolonging Louise's -- and even her own -- agony.
When at long last she finally would have reached Louise's pulsating
cuntal mound, she abruptly dropped down to the knee of the other wide-
splayed leg.  "Ooooooohhh!" Louise groaned.  "Ellen, please, darling
Ellen, please hurry up!  Oooooooooohhhh!"
     But Ellen continued her slow progress, at last reaching Louise's
black-haired cuntal folds and, popping her tongue back into her mouth,
nuzzling her nose teasingly for a moment into Louise's soft dark pubic
hair.
     "Ellen!  Oooooooohhh!" groaned the quivering Louise.
     Their spying father did not know what to watch -- his lewdly
engrossed daughters or the film.
     The screen showed the thick rigid penis ramming in and out like a
steam-engine, the woman's legs now locked desperately behind the man's
back as the camera scrambled about for the best views, the couple
apparently ignoring any instructions now and fucking for the passion of
it.  The man had one of the woman's smooth white breasts in each
clenching hand and he held onto them tightly, red marks appearing from
where his fingers ground into the soft exposed flesh.  The woman tossed
her head wildly, her mouth open, doubtlessly groaning just as Louise was
now that her younger sister had at last pressed her tongue flatly and
hard onto Louise's tiny aroused clitoris.
     Roger did not know what to watch, but fortunately from his vantage
point he could see it all; he had only to change the focus of his
bulging eyes from the depraved fucking scene on the screen to the in-
the-flesh lesbian act before him.
     The quiet older sister had become a different person -- her
movements were now as passionate as Ellen's as she clamped both her
hands behind Ellen's head to lock the punishing tongue tighter up into
her gyrating cunt.  Ellen could not emerge from Louise's vaginal slit
now even if she wanted to, for Louise held her head in a tight death-
lock and wasn't letting go.  Roger wondered how the young teenager could
breathe, as tight as her face and licking tongue were pressed into
Louise's hair-covered pubic mound.
     The pistoning cock on the screen was moving so fast it seemed to
blur as if the film could not keep up with it.  Then suddenly the action
slowed -- the camera shifted up to the woman's face which was twisted in
passion, a genuine, half-agonized passion; and then her expression
gradually, very gradually, returned to the same smile as before.  The
camera moved down to the lewd union below, where a deflated penis was
seen sliding easily out of the passion-drenched vagina, a trail of white
sperm still connecting it obscenely to the woman's cum-soaked pubic
curls.  The woman sank her buttocks back down on the couch and -- the
man now gone from the scene entirely -- the camera panned in again for a
last close-up of the widespread slightly twitching, cunt to show the
trails of sperm seeping from the vaginal opening and the entire tangled
wet imprint of orgasmic passion between her legs.  Then the film ended.
The untended projector continuing to whir but projecting only light now
on the screen.
     The film had worked its magic on the two naked girls who had not
even bothered to look at the last half.  Once they had seen the first
few strokes of the man fucking into the girl's vagina their own
adolescent passion had reached such a pitch that they had to create
their own action themselves.  Louise -- her father could simply not
believe it -- was transformed now into a quivering mass of feminine
lust.  And thirteen-year-old Ellen was lasciviously beside herself as he
had never seen her.
     Louise had released her clamp on his younger daughter's head so
that she could twirl her body around to get access to Ellen's tight
little cunt, which she now penetrated with her eagerly thrusting tongue.
Both girls groaned away, their heads searching hungrily up and down
between one another's widespread legs, their hips swirling around and
around in response to the obscene licking.  The two young girls licked
wildly between one another's legs, bobbing for a skillful thrust into
the vagina or for a prodding twirl of the clitoris with the tip of the
tongue, and then giving way to just covering the whole plane of the
vaginal mound with their greedily licking tongues in an abandoned, eager
passion.  The more each girl got, the more she licked in return-.  The
process had reached a respectable speed now and the lewd noises
resounded throughout the basement room, as did the groaning.
     Their father was going crazy at this salacious spectacle, and was
about to rush into the room and satisfy one of the mewling girls in the
way that either would have preferred -- with his hotly yearning cock.
But the scene quickly changed.
     Ellen raised her face abruptly from Louise's wetly throbbing pussy
and the teenager -- surprised at this -- raised her face to look at her
sister.
     "Louise," Ellen began through her thick, wet lips, sounding drunk.
"Shall we bring in Thor?"
     Thor!  Bring in Thor!  Holy Christ, thought Roger.  This was
sinking into lower and lower levels of degradation.  Thor!  Such a
thought had never in his life even crossed his mind.
     "I don't know," said the panting Louise.
     "Are you afraid?" queried Ellen.
     "Well ..." Louise hedged.
     "He's got a cock, after all!" said Ellen.
      "Yes," said Louise slowly.  "And ... who ... gets it?"
     "I think you should," said the young blonde.  Louise gasped in
horror, but Ellen drew closer to her and spoke soothingly, dropping her
finger to the brunette's lustfully pulsating cuntal slit and stroking
tenderly.  "Look, Louise," Ellen said, looking down where her finger was
stroking up between her sister's trembling legs, I'll manage the whole
thing.  Don't be afraid.  Wouldn't it feel good, having something really
in you?"
     "Wellllll ..." Louise was reluctant.  "Maybe ..."
     That was all spunky Ellen needed.  Leaving Louise sprawled nakedly
on the couch in confusion, she sprang up and out the door -- Roger
barely had time to hide behind some boxes -- to get Thor.
     Thor was the family German shepherd!



                                Chapter 8

     Roger hid in confusion behind the boxes as the dog went trotting
eagerly into the basement room behind Ellen.  He was a large German
shepherd, full grown, and he bounded straight toward the curvaceously
reclining brunette on the couch as though he knew what this was all
about.
     Louise, spread vulnerably on the couch, widened her eyes in terror
and put a hand to her mouth to prevent herself from screaming.  She
began to close her wide-splayed legs and slide from the couch, but the
dog stood at her feet and growled viciously in warning.
     Thor knew what this was about, all right, thought Roger.  This must
have occurred before -- with Louise, with Ellen, with both ... my God!
What a house this was!  Even the family dog was involved in the fucking!
     Louise froze in her obscene thigh-spread position in response to
the unmistakably clear warning of the German shepherd.  Her legs were
parted nearly to right angles and her knees were drawn up to her chest,
and the entire passion-wracked vaginal area was still moist from Ellen's
lewd tonguing.  Louise didn't dare to move as the huge dog growled
menacingly over her, his great panting head just above her defenseless,
upturned pussy.
     Back by the partly opened door, Roger jumped as the big animal
bounded onto the couch.  He was already beside himself with shock, and
also with lust, the testimony of which throbbed restlessly inside his
straining pants -- and he would have to get control of his racing
emotions.  The lewd thought of this enormous dog raping his naked young
daughter quaking fearfully on the couch sent shivers of revulsive
curiosity through him.  He watched Louise lying there shaking helplessly
with fear beneath the still-snarling Thor, and he couldn't look away.
There was a salaciously sadistic fascination to the spectacle -- and to
what might follow.  Was it possible, really, that Thor was going to fuck
...
     The huge German shepherd lowered his head to the cowering
teenager's soft hair-covered pubic mound and began sniffing it hungrily,
his tail wagging as though he had discovered a bitch in heat.  Louise
moaned in terror as Thor's cold nose suddenly established moist contact
with her little puckered anus.  She tensed as the long red tongue snaked
out and licked wetly up and down the crevice between her buttocks, the
tip snaking slightly into the fleshy anal ring.
     The frightened girl tried vainly to squirm away again, terrorized
still more by the prospect that the dog might, not knowing the
difference, fuck her in the anus -- but the dog raised his head and
growled with cruel ferocity again and began to lick greedily at the
narrow pink slit between her upraised thighs.  He ran his tongue wetly
the entire length of it, from the tight-closed little pucker of her
anus, up over the softly fluted edges of her pussy and over the tiny
sensation-bud atop her quivering pubic mound.  The great obscene tongue
spread wetly through the hair-covered swelling like a knife slicing
through butter.  It flicked relentlessly between Louise's full
widespread legs, stopping once or twice to curl its way deep into her
vainly resisting vagina.  Louise jerked spasmodically as she squirmed to
escape the German shepherd which lapped and sniffed at her loins, the
tender licking sensations so much more obscene than those which Ellen
had supplied.
     Roger gasped at the change which occurred in the room despite the
young girl's protests.
     The frightened moans that had come from Louise's terror-contorted
face began to change to soft mewls of involuntary pleasure -- pleasure
that she had until now set her mind against, despite Ellen's lewd
persuasions earlier, but that the long wet tongue licking at her
sensually tormented young pussy was forcing her to enjoy.  She raised
her hands, holding them in indecision for a moment above her helplessly
squirming body, and then dropped them down to grasp gently at the dog's
ears.
     With a deep animal sound she kicked her long legs back up over her
head and pulled the dog's moist nose forward into her well-lubricated
pussy slit.  His giant tongue surged up through the heated moistness
like an attacking lizard, ravishing her upthrust cuntal mound
unrelentingly.  Wild incoherent cries streamed helplessly from her lips,
pleading and encouraging the huge dog salivating between her wantonly
writhing buttocks.  He worked like the mindless beast he was, the
rutting lust of the wild animal his driving force ...
     Roger started as Ellen -- who had until now stood naked and
motionless in the middle of the room -- snapped at her sister to be
quiet, for if she kept screaming Daddy would hear them.
     Louise quieted somewhat, but still mewled and groaned as the giant
animal licked around and around her heatedly quivering pussy.  Ellen
walked up beside the dog, her eyes locked excitedly on the lascivious
plundering of Thor's tongue, but realizing also that in this position
the dog -- no matter how much he might want to -- could not fuck her
sister.  Ellen had a bit of experience in this matter.
     She grabbed the fullness of Louise's hips and the dog,
understanding, lifted his head from between the girl's sleekly straining
thighs as Ellen moved the moaning Louise over on her stomach.  All of
Louise's resistance had disappeared under the hot maddening tongue which
so mercilessly lapped at her smoldering pussy.  She was enslaved by the
huge beast panting over her, her defenselessly quivering body now
spread-eagled as she lay face-down on the couch.  The dog's huge head
lowered again, the thick tongue slithering up into the exposed crevice
between Louise's buttocks.
     Ellen stepped back -- her hands instinctively going down toward her
own excited cuntal flesh as she stood nakedly in the middle of the room
to watch what would soon follow.
     Louise twisted her buttocks lasciviously back toward the dog,
reaching around behind with her hands to spread the smooth ivory half-
moons and give him full access to her waiting cunt.  The tongue lashed
licentiously at her for another long avid moment, and then the dog
pushed his massive head down between Louise's pussy mound and the
softness of the couch.  Roger watched in mute disbelief as the head
lifted, easily raising Louise's full-fleshed buttocks up off the couch
with it.  What the aroused dog wanted was plain -- and Louise obediently
knelt, elevating her widespread buttocks, bending before the huge
lusting animal in abject surrender.  The relentlessly flicking tongue
had lashed her to complete submission; that on top of the film and
Ellen's obscene lesbian tonguing had reduced Louise to a pulp of
incarnate desire.
     She was on all fours and Thor mounted the firm roundness of her
white, uplifted buttocks, his paws on her back.  Only then did Roger see
that the younger sister had tied some fur mitts around the dog's
forefeet to prevent his claws from scratching the young girl's back.
The dog's glistening scarlet penis slid dripping from its huge sheath,
and then slipped and danced in Louise's hot wet cuntal crevice as the
animal trembled and jerked, trying to bury the tapered point deep inside
her erotically trembling body.
     Moaning, Louise looked back, shifting her buttocks to try and
capture the rapidly lengthening dog-cock like a bitch in heat, seeking
to sheath the long scarlet organ in her voraciously yearning vagina.
The sharp moist tip missed its mark and slid obscenely up to find the
girl's momentarily-relaxed anus, which it attempted to enter.  With a
cry Louise tensed, evading the bending, up-slipping prod in fright, but
the lust-incited dog returned immediately to the attack, having tasted a
measure of success.  Blindly, he thrust up between the thighs of his
nakedly kneeling mistress, the thin animal penis sliding unsuccessfully
along the desire-drenched length of Louise's pussy, rubbing against the
tiny nerve-center of her clitoris.  The bright scarlet of his jabbing
penis was a lewd contrast with the fevered pink of Louise's passion-
inflamed cunt.  Both Roger and Ellen drank in the salaciously
stimulating spectacle in a deep fascination as the penis spread the lips
wider and rubbed between.  The dog bucked madly behind the moaning older
sister, attempting to skewer her on the ever-elongating taper of the
large, dripping wet penis until finally, out of control, the dog began
to growl again in frustration.
     Ellen walked over to the two and grabbed the long, blood-engorged
dog-cock in her hand and guided the slippery organ until the point
entered her sister's fevered pussy slit, spreading the furrow wider with
each of the dog's renewed thrusts.  Ellen held the erect penis for a
moment more until it was successfully in for a full half of its
pulsating length, then the scheming teenager released her grip, allowing
her hand to play for a moment over the hair-lined lips of her sister's
widespread cunt, and then up over the smoothly upturned moons of her
shaking buttocks which were now impaled by Thor's long tapering cock.
Then the younger sister backed off entirely, her hand no longer touching
Louise, to crouch in a forbidden passion of her own about three feet
away from the bestial coupling whose lewd fucking she so hungrily drank
in with her eyes.
     Roger gasped in disbelief as the giant German shepherd jerked
forward and buried his huge animal cock deep up the squirming Louise's
pinkly grasping cunt.  It slithered forward with an obscene wet rush
until it was sunk moistly to the hilt, the hairy balls swinging lewdly
below her wet dark pubic hair.  A low moan of relief escaped from
Louise's lust-contorted lips as she began to move rhythmically backwards
to meet the thrusts of her panting dog.  As the covered, forelegs
trapped her waist, she began to undulate her young woman's body and
rotate her whitely buttocks in lewd circles, abandoning herself
completely to the delicious animal-fucking she was receiving from
behind.  Louise's face was contorted in rapture from the depraved
fucking the dog was giving her.  Her large, hugely set, breasts danced
beneath her writhing torso, moving rhythmically in time to the hot
skewering rod of the dog as it slid deep up into her from behind, a
relentless red poker of glistening animal flesh burying itself warmly
deep in her belly.
     It was too much for Ellen, who crouched naked beside them on the
floor, the forbidden copulation above her eye level.  She began to groan
to herself -- and then louder and more impatiently than Louise whose
moans were now abandoned purrs of increasing pleasure.  Ellen shifted
herself around until she imitated exactly the position of the impaled
Louise, with Ellen's own smoothly curving ass-cheeks arched high up into
the air and the entire area of her hair-fringed furrow and the crevice
of her buttocks exposed to the open air.
     She too wanted a lover -- even an animal lover -- but was left now
to her own devices.  She ran both of her hands around her gently flaring
hips to spread the cheeks of her round young buttocks far apart, and
then began with one hand to feather her fingers wildly over the rounded
path of her pussy, pausing to stroke the moistly separated lips, to grab
and twist her throbbing clitoris, to touch around to the opening of her
puckering little rectum.  She shook and danced her firm white buttocks,
both of her hands now abusing the seeping furrow of her cunt so quickly
and avidly that Roger could see nothing but a scrambling of wet, hungry,
confused fingers as his youngest daughter groaned out her
dissatisfaction still louder.
     By accident, Roger himself groaned.
     Louise, so completely wrapped up in her own pleasure, did not
notice Roger's groan; and of course the family dog did not notice as he
burrowed and tunneled wildly into her feverish vagina toward the
satisfaction of his animal lust.
     But Ellen noticed.
     Her hands froze momentarily with the fingers thrust in and around
her vaginal opening and her rectum, and she stopped the gyrating and
froze her hips.  Slowly her head turned toward the door, which Roger had
without realizing allowed to slip open far enough that Ellen could now
look directly into his eyes.
     She kneeled frozen, looking questioningly into her father's gaping
eyes and ignoring the obscenely unnatural copulation which continued
uninterrupted at her side on the couch.  In this time her eyes and
pretty face expressed many things, first of all fright that her father
had discovered what was going on and might punish them.  But since he
too stood motionless, the fear gradually abated to be replaced by a
suppliant look, a look pleading for the satisfaction which Ellen well
knew Roger could give.  Ellen began to shift her position slightly,
walking a few paces on her hands and knees, until her buttocks and
moistly spread pussy were directly facing Roger; she turned her head to
be able to look at him and also at the strange animal union on the
couch.
     Roger felt almost compelled to rush into the room; he wanted to
submit Ellen to exactly what that slobbering dog was now giving in such
beastly, unbelievable fashion to her quivering older sister.  But he did
not want the older teenager to know about him and Ellen and he did not
like the idea of a third party in the room observing his and Ellen's
lewd activities; but this he might have overcome, if the third party had
not been his voluptuous other daughter.  For her to discover that he had
watched the depraved dog-fucking scene and moreover that he had a
secretly-established incestuous relationship with her sister would be
simply too horrible, to say nothing of the danger of his older daughter
telling his wife.  No, as long as Louise remained in the room with
Ellen, he would not allow himself to enter.
     Ellen looked at him pleadingly, hurt that he was not answering her
need.  She allowed her light blue eyes to drop to his throbbingly erect
cock straining in clear outline beneath his pants.  She looked at him
for a long disparaging moment, then automatically her hands leaped down
again to her slippery pussy and spread it wide before his eyes; her
hands obscenely finger played and danced again around her glistening
vaginal slit.  Ellen was nearly out of her head with lust as she wagged
her buttocks around furiously to meet the probingly delicious but
ineffective fingers.  Why didn't her Daddy do something?  She wondered
over and over, not understanding his dilemma.
     Roger's lust-blurred eyes were drawn away from Ellen to the more
unnatural and compelling spectacle of the dog with his long, shiny
scarlet penis sliding in and out of Louise's hungrily upturned loins as
Louise moaned out her obscene thanks.  Though Roger was seeing
everything he still could not believe it and the strangeness of this
perverse exhibition thrust itself anew on his mind -- his own daughter
was fucking a dog!  She was fucking a dog!  Thor!  Louise's fully
ripened body squirmed frantically as she kneeled before the hunching
German shepherd.
     Louise had gone completely out of her mind now and was writhing and
groaning lewd encouragement to the dumb beast through tightly clenched
teeth.  She was begging him to fuck her harder, to fuck her faster, and
to spew his hot canine cum up her cunt!  In her lust-drugged madness she
wanted to be filled with the animal sperm and that was all that
mattered.  She was no longer human but a quivering mass of sweating,
lust-deranged female flesh that begged to be subjugated.  The young
daughter reveled in the humiliation of being screwed silly by this
wildly panting beast in front of Ellen whom Louise could see wagging her
full firm buttocks in the identical position; Louise ground her smoothly
rounded ass-cheeks with renewed force against the dog's hairy jerking
body as though she were another animal, a bitch -- a female dog.
     Roger watched in abject fascination, the rivulets of moisture
beading obscenely in the crevice of Louise's voluptuous buttocks.  They
glistened in the light and tiny droplets ran slowly down the backs of
her thighs, leaving a glittering trail along the deliciously tanned
flesh.
     Ellen ground her own buttocks back into empty space and into her
crazily scrambling fingers, unsure of whether she was trying to
duplicate the obscene dog-fucking, or trying just to satisfy herself, or
hoping to stimulate her father who she knew could see every inch of her
nakedly exposed cunt and each little abuse she inflicted on her excited
young pussy.  Really it was all of these reasons -- if reason could
still be spoken of in Ellen's present deranged condition.  She pushed
her quivering buttocks back so high into the air that her knees bounced
up and down off the floor, as though she wanted to ram her entire fist
up into her hungrily sucking cunt.  The sight of her older sister on the
couch being buffeted to and fro by the German shepherd, the pinkly
glistening shaft fucking into her tight grasping cunt without mercy --
it was just too much!  Something had to give!
     And it did.
     Louise uttered a strange soulful cry -- a gasp, moan, and scream
combined, and she twisted her head from side to side wildly, her long
dark hair churning on the couch and her shoulders grinding down into the
couch cushion.  She was in the fitful beginning throes of a desperate
orgasm and screwed her buttocks, greedily back against the dog's cock-
shaft like a she-dog gone insane.  The big German shepherd's tongue hung
wetly from his mouth as he fucked the full waving buttocks of his pretty
mistress from behind, saliva dripping from it onto Louis's glistening
back.  She screamed sharply again and rammed her ass-cheeks back against
the wildly humping dog just as he jerked forward and his cock began to
spew its sperm in sharp hard spurts deep up into her clinging vagina.
     Ellen watched in lewd fascination and tried to imitate it all
herself.  She saw Louise's rounded white buttocks begin contracting
uncontrollably, signaling the orgiastic upheaval deep in her quivering
belly.  Her sister was cumming at the same time as the dog!  And Ellen
was trying desperately to do the same thing.
     Thick white liquid oozed wetly from Louise's tight cunt squeezing
against the penis of the dog; thin trails of the white animal cum
pearled down the twin ivory smooth columns of her thighs.  Her ravaged
buttocks glistened, displaying semen-soaked pubic hair and moist pink
flesh as she pitched forward heavily on her face, unconscious.  The
rapidly deflating cock of the dog slipped from her mauled passageway
with a startling sucking noise that echoed lewdly through the silent
room.  Louise was out cold and Thor stood above her wagging his tail in
obvious appreciation.
     As a final, crowning act of lewd depravity he dropped his beast's
head to her widespread pussy and licked at the white liquid oozing from
her still-quivering cunt.  He gulped at it hungrily until at last there
was no more and then curled up to lie down contentedly between Louise's
open thighs, his giant head nuzzled gently into the soft "vee" of her
ravished vagina.
     The dog slept, and Louise was out cold.
     But Ellen was anything but unconscious -- and anything but cold:
She had walked on her hands and knees still closer to the animal
copulation during the last thrusts as her own hands pulled at the lips
of her hot young pussy, stretching them, and then thrust two fingers at
a time cruelly up into her unsatisfied cunt.  When the dog-fucking had
ended she crawled nakedly away in the direction of her father, fully
beside herself with desire, nearly unconscious in her own uncontrollable
passion, coming ever closer and closer to the doorway -- until at last
she was only a few feet away and Roger could see and hear every detail
of the lewd finger-fucking of her pinkly glistening, cunt.
     "Ellen," he whispered, afraid Louise might hear it.  "Get them out
of here.  Both of them -- Louise and Thor."
     "Fuck, me, darling," Ellen said loudly in her drunken abandon.
     "Ssshhhhhh!  Ellen!  Ellen!  Ssshhhhh!  Listen to me!  Wake Louise
and the dog up, and get them out of here.  And then I will fuck you, I
will fuck you then!"
     Ellen, half-comprehending, walked on all fours to the couch and
shook Louise by the shoulders.  The ravished girl moaned and shook
gradually to consciousness, and Ellen helped her to a sitting -- and
then to a standing -- position.  Ellen held her upright and the two
sisters stood for a moment in an embrace that, from Ellen's side, might
have become something more.  Roger could see the long thin trails of the
dog's cum running in lewd trails all the way down the sides of Louise's
well-formed legs as Ellen embraced her for a moment in a lasciviously
tight clasp.  Then, remembering, she began to guide Louise to the door.
Louise after a few half-dragged, half self-propelled steps, recovered
her bearing and walked unsteadily out of the room.  Roger hid behind the
boxes again, and as his daughter passed he could see again the trail of
animal sperm trailing down her shapely thighs.
     Ellen slapped Thor sharply on the back and he woke, sprang from the
couch, and bounded out of the room.
     Ellen stood waiting by the couch.  She lay down in the sweat and
cum of her sister and dog and watched her father enter the room,
removing his clothing even as he walked.  By the time he reached her he
was naked, and his by now familiarly thick rod of flesh yearned upward
toward the ceiling -- and then, as he lowered himself between Ellen's
spread legs -- toward the hotly hungering opening of her cunt.  Ellen
knew what to expect from the last time they'd fucked, as did Roger, and
the two incestuous lovers immediately began a low, throaty sort of
groaning as the daughter's warmly welcoming vagina clasped tight to her
father's cock which had broken it in and for which it was now shaped
precisely as a finely tailored glove ...



                                Chapter 9

     "Coming home" -- Roger turned the words over in his thoughts as he
finally left the office at nine o'clock at night and drove down the long
arrow-straight road, then turned onto his street.  That's what he was
doing, coming home, and the expression did have a certain attractive
ring to it, he had always valued things connected with the home --
though he had allowed and even encouraged it all to go to pot recently.
     The big dusty Rolls slowed as Roger approached his driveway; the
car never made much noise, and when he coasted slowly it moved as
silently as a ghost.  The psychology teacher still at this minute
lecturing Roger's wife Cynthia in her adult education course might have
spoken of the conditioning factor of the short, twice-daily drives in
the Rolls, of the quiet -- perhaps the unnatural quiet -- it offered for
Roger's fears to expand all out of proportion and eat away at what
remained of the fabric of his life.
     Cynthia too -- if Roger had ever spoken with her -- might have
pointed out that those drives were in some ways a little sterile and
frightening, and that with a sensibility like Roger's the one thing he
did not need more of was more quiet to let his thoughts fasten on
problems, for he did not fasten effectively on his problems; and he
already had an excess of quiet in his life.
     The Rolls glided into the opening in the hedges which led to his
garage, shut off the car and twisted in his seat to gather up some of
the papers he had -- even at this hour -- brought home.  He paused for a
moment, wondering what to expect inside the house.  Cynthia?  That might
be pressing his luck, she was usually gone to one fool course or
another.  The girls?  Yes, that was reasonable to expect, at least for
Ellen, for they were strict enough to insist she stay home most of the
time.  And what would Ellen be doing?  Studying or watching TV or -- his
heart dropped -- looking at that dirty film again.
     He would, tomorrow, return the projector to his office; cutting off
Ellen's source of the obscene films might not be possible, but cutting
off the projector was.  Only Roger's forgetfulness had allowed it to
remain home as long as it had after he discovered its use that evening
when Ellen had had the dog fuck Louise.  Roger noticed the lights from
the basement -- yes, his suspicions were probably right -- Ellen was
probably looking at that film again, fingering herself or corrupting her
older sister.
     He entered the house and stood listening -- there was an
exceptional silence even for his house.  No noise whatever.  The
refrigerator clicked on -- ah, there was noise, and a clock ticking
began to materialize from the silence; and, now that he really listened,
there was noise coming from the basement.
     Groans.
     Quiet, purring, mewling groans of more than one person.
     And that was not a sound projector.
     Roger advanced to the basement stairway and descended stealthily,
remaining outside the closed basement door.  The groans were louder.  He
opened the door a crack.
     The moment he arrived was just that when Ellen and Harold were
having their climax.
     Holy Jesus Christ!  Naked and aroused Ellen with her buttocks
humped lewdly over the arm of the couch, being speared by the lust-
swollen cock of some boy much older than she was.  Ah yes -- that was
Harold Taylor, Louise's boy friend!  And with his finger -- no, fingers
-- up Ellen's narrow little anus too, both young naked bodies pumping
and swirling excitedly up against each other as though fucking were
going out of style.  No -- he saw it, he knew what this was -- Harold's
over flowing sperm flooded out around the base of his crazily orgasming
cock as he heaved a final animal groan, yet the two insatiable
adolescents kept pumping, and he continued absent mindedly to thrust his
fingers into the blonde teenager's clutching rectum.
     And that was not the whole scene -- Louise was also entirely naked
and another participant, in a way, crouched on the floor within a few
feet of the lewdly fucking couple.  What was her part in this?  her
father wondered.  She seemed desperately excited as she watched, her
gaping eyes staring ever closer at Harold's deflating, cum-covered penis
still pumping spasmodically at Ellen's nakedly uplifted buttocks.  It
was no wonder Louise was all worked up -- she'd been taught to like both
Harold and Ellen, Roger realized, and both were now spread before her
bulging eyes.
     It was only then that Roger noticed the film.
     And what a film!
     On the screen, in full realistic color, was a voluptuously naked
redhead on her hands and knees on a table, a boy's cock jammed into her
distorted mouth, another boy's hands groping around her full swaying
breasts, and a third boy's slippery white penis inserted deep up into
her clinging vagina from behind.  To say nothing of a man's middle
finger stuck up into her helpless rectum, the man himself being sucked
by another girl, and yet another girl presenting her youthful, quivering
buttocks to the man's free hand, several fingers of which were being
swallowed by her small hungry anus.  Eight people!  All locked lewdly
together in various shocking ways!
     The camera went around and around the group, concentrating on the
central figure of the curvaceous redhead who was nakedly sprawled on the
table.
     The extent to which everyone was moving and pumping and slapping
licentiously against each other was incredible.  Roger had never seen
such a depraved thing in his life, and never imagined it either.  Ellen
certainly had good films!  he thought allowing himself to be captivated
irresistibly for a minute, but then returned to his full consciousness
of what was going on in the room, and his parental disapproval of it.
     He would have run into the room right now and stopped the whole
unbelievable proceeding, except two things happened in quick succession.
First, the cocks in the film all discharged their hot loads of cum
within the space of a minute from first to last and then withdrew,
leaving the girls to continue gyrating enticingly for the camera's
benefit until THE END appeared on the screen, centered over the whitely
upraised buttocks of the violated redhead on the table, and the film
came to an abrupt halt.  Second, his daughter Louise -- who had watched
the final sequence and then returned her eyes instantly to Ellen and her
own traitorous boy friend Harold -- had both of her hands up between her
wide-splayed tanned legs and was groaning wantonly, flailing her long
shapely legs about in the air.  Ellen and Harold had at long last
stopped the after-play and were lying warmly in each other's arms on the
couch kissing, totally absorbed in each other.  Only her boy friend's
cock was visible to the poor lust-crazed Louise, who was looking
hungrily at it as she groaned louder and louder in helpless frustration.
     She tumbled and rolled on the floor, her hands massaging up between
her sleekly straining legs in an effort to satisfy her churning desire.
Roger saw her stick several fingers into her cunt and thrust them
rapidly up and down, and then Louise rolled over again, fingers still
inserted, trying different lewd positions to satisfy herself.  With the
embracing couple on the couch totally wrapped up in each other and
nearly unconscious to boot, Louise began to ignore them.  As she rolled
and squirmed about the room in her desperate passion, she came ever
closer to the door.  Finally she was squatting, her buttocks to the
door, delicately manipulating her lust-inflamed clitoris with her
outstretched middle finger as she groaned excitedly ever louder.
     Roger's lust at seeing his older daughter in this nakedly aroused
state overcame the shock of watching his younger daughter debased by
Harold, and he lowered his jockey shorts and kicked them hurriedly away
in a careless heap onto the basement stairs.  He did not even bother to
remove his shirt or shoes, but silently opened the door, stooped behind
the crouching Louise, and put his hands on her heaving hips.
     Louise was so near to sensual unconsciousness that she knew only
that her frantic prayers were somehow -- mysteriously -- beginning to be
answered.
     She was dimly aware of the hands on her gyrating hips working their
way so eagerly over her rounded buttocks to resume the lewd task she had
begun on her own -- of massaging her pink, blood-inflated clitoris, of
stroking heatedly in and out of the inflamed walls of her passion-
drenched cunt.  It was like an obscene dream.  Perhaps it was all still
part of the pornographic film -- the excited brunette was not sure.
     Everything had faded into unreality except the hands exploring ever
more lustfully around her kneeling body from behind.  Now they had
jumped hungrily up to cup her full firm breasts, to knead the hot
trembling little nipples.  It never even occurred to the naked teenager
to turn and see who it was who was now placing something very warm and
throbbing just at the point where the hair-lined outer lips of her pussy
mound separated.  Louise both knew and didn't know what it was she was
feeling.  If it really was a cock, then her prayers had been answered.
     Roger had never before been so close to his naked seventeen-year-
old daughter before.  He had lusted after her maturely voluptuous body
on the beach that time, when she had come to him and stooped over him in
a provocative fashion, her ripely swaying breasts and her full delicious
buttocks all-too-much-covered by her modest bathing suit, though he
remembered the extent to which the ass-cheeks had peeked out below the
tight elastic leg bands of the suit in back.  Those ass-cheeks! -- and
now he finally had them in his hands!  Hard to believe, the way fate had
thrown them unexpectedly into his possession.
     He had lusted after his pretty daughter's naked body that time he
had seen her and Ellen playing at being lesbians, and then he had
witnessed the salacious spectacle of the dog fucking his long scarlet
penis up between Louise's legs -- then he had seen her naked form, but
at a distance, only at a distance.  Now here it all was with the soft
dark curls of her sparse pubic hair, her whitely rounded buttocks, her
large melony breasts with their small erect nipples, swinging from side
to side as Louise swayed her body in a rapturous response to Roger's
hotly caressing hands.  His brunette daughter's body was Roger's vision
of sensual perfection -- and here it all was, all his, to do whatever he
liked with!  He guided Louise onto her elbows and knees and then touched
his throbbing penis against the small elastic circle of her vagina --
supplying the maddeningly pulsating sensation for which Louise was so
conscious and so grateful.
     Roger glanced nervously at the couch to see if Ellen or Harold
noticed what, was going on.  No -- no sign of a response.  The coast was
clear!
     He felt Louise's buttocks beginning to grind in wild anticipation
of what would follow, and he used his fingers to guide his lust-swollen
penis slowly forward, using the thick rubbery head to part the full,
fleshy lips of Louise's cunt.  She flailed her head about as she felt
the soft hot contact against the sensitive fluted edges of her moist
pussy, holding her breath ecstatically for what seemed an eternity,
remaining in the subjugated kneeling position, not daring even to
breathe for fear the pressuring cock would turn out to be a dream.
     But it wasn't.  "Oooooohhhh," she breathed joyfully as she felt the
first harsh pressure against the tight elastic vaginal opening.
     Roger pushed.
     "Aaaaghhh," she coughed as the blood-swollen head slipped
completely through, stretching the tight little hole until Louise felt
as though her thighs were splitting apart from the relentless outward
pressure.  Yet it was nice very nice -- so much better than her
ineffectually plunging fingers had been.  Louise had not had a good
piece since -- well, since the dog -- and she needed one now, just a few
long deep strokes to bring her to her climax.  She thrust her buttocks
encouragingly back toward her unseen lover, though the action cost her
pain.
     Her excited father thrust his hips brutally forward in immediate
response, his long thick cock sliding into her teenage cunt like a
raging freight train pushing the soft moist flesh of her vaginal walls
in rippling waves before it.  There was no stopping the process now and,
with a loud groan, his balls smacked heavily into the upturned cheeks of
her tightly clenched buttocks.
     "Oh God!  Oh God!" she cried beneath him, her father's cock sunk
deep in her young belly and filling every part of her insides.  There
wasn't one tiny ridge of flesh on his lust-hardened penis that she could
not feel with the eagerly clasping walls of her soft fleshy cunt.
"God!" Louise cried out.  "Do it to me!  Do it to me!  More, more, more,
more!"
     "Like it, Louise?" her father asked softly.
     "I love it!  I LOVE IT!" Louise screamed at the top of her lungs.
     And there was a surprised response from the couch as two pairs of
ears heard the cries and two pairs of gaping eyes now sought out the
incestuous couple copulating obscenely on the floor.  "It's ... it's ...
Louise," Ellen said, and then gasped, "with ... with ... with Daddy!"
     Roger was aware of the words, aware he was observed now as he
hunched over his older daughter's arched buttocks, but it no longer
mattered, for his heavy sperm-filled balls had slapped up against
Louise's firmly rounded ass-cheeks so hard they left a white imprint in
the smooth unblemished flesh, and Roger was so absorbed by Louise's
madly responsive bucking and the delicious clasp of her inner vaginal
sinews that nothing in the world would have stopped him now, or even
diminished his depraved pleasure.
     Louise was a raw, squealing mass of desire as her father ran his
hands heatedly up to the contracting lips of her hot pussy, pausing over
her trembling clitoris which he fingered in a playful motion back and
forth, bringing softer moans of lewd abandoned sensation from her mouth.
At the same time, he could feel the ever-widening passage of her
adolescent cunt flowering in greedy desire to swallow the whole of his
rigid erection plunging far up inside her.
     He quickened his thrusts, hot and pulsating and deep, as she
thrashed her body insanely back and forth and around and around on his
impaling hardness, fucking with total abandon.
     Suddenly there was a different little shiver beneath him!
     "I'm cumming!  Oh God ...!  Oh God!  I'm cumming!  Cumming!
Ohhhhhhh!  Ooooohhhh!" his daughter moaned.
     He felt her spasming cunt opening and closing around him and warm
torrents of wet orgasmic liquid flooding out hotly around his buried
cock.  He thrust faster, digging deeper and deeper up inside her.  He
wanted to remember this all of his life, this possession of his own
daughter's voluptuous, lust-filled body, and he worked to make it true.
     "Ooooooh.  Oooooh God, I'm cumming!  Cumming!  Cumming!" Louise
groaned on euphorically beneath him.  "Uuuuumhhhh!"
     As Roger pumped on at a greater frenzy, working on to his own
heaving climax, Louise gradually stopped mewling and was silent.  After
a few moments she slowly -- very cautiously turned her head and looked
over her shoulder for she was now fully aware the fucking was not a
dream, and she wanted to know who was back there rampaging so deeply
inside her still convulsing vagina.
     Louise's scream filled the house.
     "Daddy!  DADDY!" she shrieked.
     She jerked her body away from him in horror, walking quickly
forward on her knees until -- despite Roger's best efforts -- his hands
broke contact with her hips and his nearly erupting penis slipped out of
her cunt with a wet slurping sound.  Louise turned and, hand over her
mouth to prevent further screaming, stared at him with terror-filled
eyes as she realized she had been fucked by her own father!  There was
all the evidence still, Roger crouching there with his lewdly erected
cock standing straight out before him and pulsating in anticipation of
the obscene satisfaction it had so nearly attained!
     "Daddy!  How could you!  How COULD you!" Louise shrieked again,
standing now and retreating backwards across the room in the direction
of Ellen and Harold, stepping backward in fear not at what would happen
but at what already had.  She reached the couch, sitting down
momentarily on the arm, and her boyfriend Harold's hands caught her.
She felt the contact of the man who had fucked her from behind and who
had turned out to be her own father -- jerked away again.  She ran to a
far corner of the room, staring in horror both at her father, who still
crouched where she had left him with his erected cock jerking yearningly
in the direction of the ceiling, and at her sister and Harold ... who
were at it again.
     They had been turned on again by the salacious sight of another
couple having intercourse before their watching eyes.  It was so
different, and so very much better, than in the pornography film!  And
the fact that it was Ellen's sister, and her father, doing the fucking
added a forbidden quality to it that made the lewd performance even more
fascinating and compelling.
     What Louise saw now was her teen-age boyfriend pressing his hands
over her sister's youthfully budding breasts, tweaking the young
untouched-looking nipples, running down Ellen's flat taut abdomen,
traveling over her parted thighs, then returning back up over her
quivering breasts.  Ellen was making similar explorations over Louise's
boyfriend's hard, athletic body, and she saw with pleasure that his cock
had jerked and stiffened again to full throbbing potency.  He began to
touch around her cuntal softness, which was still moist and matted from
their mingled cum juices, just as it would -- soon -- happen again.
     Roger, still filled with lust, stood up and considered the
impossible situation he now found himself in.  Ellen and Harold had seen
him fucking Louise -- yet they evidently were not concerned about it,
not put out by his presence, for they had begun their own lovemaking.
The dark-haired boy at this minute thrusting his desire-thickened cock
up into Ellen from a side position, paid no attention to her father, and
neither did the pretty blonde teenager.  Roger felt ridiculous standing
there with his stiff cock protruding achingly out before him -- but they
paid no attention to him.
     Yet in the far corner his oldest daughter was still paying
considerable attention to him, still regarding him with a horrified
look.  She would, he knew, interpret any advance toward her in the wrong
way, although he would like to go to her and, without so much as
touching her trembling body soothe her and try to talk away the shocking
incest which no amount of talking could ever make disappear.  He would
like to, but he could not.  He would have to stay distant from her, to
let her recover by herself, to avoid damaging the ravished girl further.
     Yet he was left with the problem of his painfully throbbing penis
and aware of how near to a climax he still was, and of how good that
brief, tantalizing fuck with Louise had been.  So different from Ellen,
really!  Louise was so much more of a fully developed woman.
     On the couch lay Ellen, on her side with one leg pointed straight
as a ballet dancer's directly up toward the ceiling, while Harold was
kneeling with a knee on either side of her other, prostrate leg, his
thick rubbery shaft of flesh already only half invisible in the teenaged
blonde's wide-spread cunt.  Her eyes were shut, and the boy's gaze was
fixed drunkenly on the tightly clasping pussy mound which gyrated in
such practiced little circles calculated to increase his already rapid
thrusts to the point where he would fuck her for all he was worth, fuck
her even better than the last time.  For Ellen -- running out of
variations -- each time had to be better than the last.  The little
circular gyrations, the enticing tugs and twists of her teenage pussy
were as practiced and wanton as those of the best prostitute.
     Roger hovered near the brazenly copulating pair, his own lust
increasing rapidly by the second to an even greater frenzy.  He had to
have satisfaction!  Somehow, he had to have it!  Perhaps -- he reflected
in a moment of clarity which somehow knifed into his lust-induced fog --
he would in a few moments be able to climb onto his naked younger
daughter -- the boy would not be able to go on forever.



                                Chapter 10

     Roger didn't know how long he stood naked in the middle of the
basement recreation room, his lustfully swollen penis standing out hard
and hot in front of him.  His attention was riveted to the lewdly
fucking teenagers on the couch -- his younger daughter and his older
daughter's boy friend.
     Ellen and Harold were making the couch rock noisily back and forth
on its legs with their abandoned love-making.  The young blonde girl was
groaning, teeth tightly clenched, hair tossing, eyes open but unseeing,
as the adolescent pumped his long glistening hardness in and out of her
swollen and agitated pussy lips.  Ellen was pumping up to meet him on
the in-strokes, and rocking away on the out strokes, her ankles clasped
above Harold's sweating back.  They were fucking so fast Roger wondered
that their backs didn't break.  Ellen's groans increased and became
throaty and rasping and Harold joined in as the two ground feverishly
on.
     Suddenly a spasm went through Ellen's lower body and she pressed
her trembling belly frantically tight up against Harold for one frozen
instant, her entire passion-wracked body quivering and jerking and then
dropped back down to the couch.  At this same time the base of the boy's
cock could be seen to expand and contract spasmodically as he groaned
out the insane fury of his climax, gushes of white viscous semen soon
leaking lewdly from her overflowing vagina around the edges of his still
driving cock on the outstrokes.  They kept pumping on, but slowly now,
reflectively, until at the last he had no erection to pump with, and let
his deflating penis slide out of Ellen's passion-flooded cunt with a wet
obscene noise.
     Roger glanced to the corner where his other daughter had been
crouching: she was still there, but she had moved, out somewhat from the
corner and toward the middle of the room.  She too watched the couple on
the couch in a contemplative, semi-hypnotic state, although as her
father glanced at her, she turned her head and gazed back at him
neutrally, no resentment or fear left.  Well! Roger thought, perhaps
there's still a possibility with Louise, too!  She's still naked and
should be getting turned on again.
     No one in the room noticed the visitor.
     Why, after all, should they have?  No one had ever appeared at
those small, rather grimy, half-forgotten basement windows up at the top
of the room.
     But that is just where Ellen's young adolescent boy friend, Mark
Green, now peeked in.  Through the haze on the windows he could not
quite tell what was going on in the room, but only that there was
something unusual and magnetic about the four people, the way they were
dressed, and the odd bright light coming from one wall.
     Mark was not by nature a prowler or a peeping Tom.  He had come
over to visit his girl friend Ellen; he had even hoped that he and Ellen
could have intercourse again -- Ellen had broken him in -- and this
thought had been foremost in his young impressionable mind when he
boldly rang the bell.  There had been no answer to the bell -- the
present inhabitants of the cellar living in a hidden subterranean world
which did not include sound -- and Mark had just started to walk away
disappointed when he noticed light through an opening in the backyard
hedges.  He climbed over the thick, neatly trimmed hedge -- which
effectively formed a fence around the yard -- and went to the basement
windows.  After his first look in, he was about to leave, for he thought
he saw no people -- but then he realized it was hard to see the
inhabitants because they were the same light color as the wall.  Were
they, he wondered now, sitting there ... stark naked?  Jesus!  Jesus,
Jesus, Jesus!
     Young Mark mustered up his courage and crawled in the basement
window at the rear of the room, emerging with a thump -- unnoticed by
the absorbed, heavily breathing foursome -- on the concrete floor behind
the rolling projector.  He gazed in awe at the naked people in the room
and their incredibly lewd positions.  The shy young teenager could
hardly believe what he was seeing: Ellen's father with his thick,
middle-aged cock poling throbbingly upward from his hairy loins as he
watched his own daughter being fucked half to death on the couch.
Ellen, little thirteen-year-old Ellen, his girl friend lewdly
intertwined with an older boy Mark had never seen who with one hand was
intimately tweaking Ellen's nipples while he fucked into her upthrust
pussy from behind.  And -- most astounding of all -- over in the far
corner sat a nakedly voluptuous girl who nearly made his adolescent's
eyes pop straight out from his head ... Louise!  Dark, sultry, crouched-
forward Louise with her long, rich, full woman's curves; her enormous
firm breasts with nipples so large that his eyes were automatically
drawn to them: Louise!  And her shapely young legs were spread wide
enough to both reveal how dark and tantalizing was her cunt-hair and to
admit her hand which, with two fingers stiffly extended was nervously
running up and down her tantalizing cuntal slit in long, hard-pressing
strokes.  Cripes almighty!
     No one noticed Mark.
     And across the room, Roger was being aroused to such a point that
he could think of nothing else besides who he was going to fuck and how
soon.  His lingering lack of satisfaction with Louise, and the slow,
smoldering eroticism of watching his other daughter being fucked on the
couch now had built his lust to volcanic proportions: it was all too
much.
     Abruptly, Roger went to her and grabbed her roughly by the hips,
pushing away a startled Harold Taylor.  As she knelt there on her hands
and knees, her long blonde hair hanging down over her forehead, on her
lips she had a broad pixie smile at the thought of what her father would
do next.
     Roger went quickly to the point where her almost boyish young
buttocks separated and spread them apart with his thumbs until the tight
little anus nestled in the crevice was clearly exposed.  He ran an
extended middle finger quickly down to the moistness of her vagina to
gather some erotic secretions, then smeared it over the puckered little
anus, and began immediately to force his finger up against the tightly
clenched nether ring until it popped through.
     "Unnngghhh," she groaned in pain, but she was clearly pleased with
her father's rough treatment.
     "Spread 'em wider!" Roger commanded, in a very un-Roger-like way,
leering down at his young teenage daughter.
     Ellen obeyed, widening the gap between her knees on the couch until
her long tapering legs were nearly at right angles to her kneeling body
as though she would split.  Roger probed his middle finger deep in her
rectum and quickly began to work a second finger up between her
quivering ass-cheeks as well.
     "Aaaaaaaaaaaagh!" Ellen moaned.  "Gently, darling, gently!" Roger
kept pushing until the extended fingers were buried and Ellen jumped
forward from the increased pain, her mouth wincing and then opening as
she panted and half-groaned, half-mewled, while the cruelly thrusting
fingers worked around and around deep inside her wide-stretched rectum.
Roger grinned: this was more fun than he'd expected with Ellen now
squirming beneath his cruel probes in total abject surrender.
     "Fuck me there!" she screamed.  "There!  In the ass!  Now!"
     Roger pulled the fingers out of Ellen's sensually writhing
buttocks, the pink clasping skin clinging to them until they withdrew
with a wet vacuum-like sucking noise.  He was so impassioned he
immediately raised his stone-hard cock up to the constricted opening.
     "Put it in!" he commanded, almost with a sneer.
     "What?" Ellen said.  She hadn't bargained on that.
     "Put it in!  Now, I said!"
     Ellen heaved a sigh and reached back behind her and grasped his
swollen member, gently placing the huge bulbous tip against the tight
hairless opening.  His daughter began to probe and work it against her
anus, and the tensed muscles of Roger's stomach stood out as he strained
forward.  It was worming its way into her and he could feel it!  It
looked like a giant battering ram as it tried to force its lewd entry
into the portals of his daughter's quivering behind.  He clenched his
eyes tightly shut as the straining nether ring gave way at once before
the hard pressure and the hotly throbbing head popped up inside with a
sudden obscene rush.
     "Ooooooooh," she groaned from the pain, but yet it was not a groan
of protest.
     "Shove it back," her father commanded.  "Shove your little ass back
onto it!"
     Ellen obeyed, obviously liking his cruel abuse as well as the
sodomizing act itself -- the newness of it, although it did still give
her some pain.  The hard fleshy rod surged deeper as she backed her
round boyish buttocks down onto him.
     "Ooooooooooh," she groaned.  "Aaaaaaauuuuugggghh!"
     The flat plane of Roger's pelvis suddenly smacked loudly against
the softness of her trembling buttocks, the hard rampaging penis now
buried to the balls between the twin white mounds.  She was hopelessly
impaled, and she liked it!  Roger gasped at the lustful sensations of
the voluptuous young body skewered on the end of his stiff rod of flesh,
and he sawed rhythmically hard and deep into the tiny expanding passage.
It was just like he'd heard once, only a ring and a nothingness beyond.
Nothing except a soft clasping warmth which had a peculiar attraction
and gave strange heated sucking sensations as he twisted and pumped, and
as Ellen now shamelessly twisted her buttocks back and forth and around
and around on her father's impaling cock.
     Suddenly the forgotten third person on the couch entered the act.
     "Turn her over," Harold said.  Roger glanced briefly over at his
older daughter's boy friend but ignored him and kept pumping, with the
salacious, swooshing noises of his ass-fucking echoing through the room.
     "Why don't you turn her over?!" Harold said.  "Then we can both get
a little!"
     Ellen's eyes brightened like hot coals.  Two men at once!  She had
never seen that in any film.  Two men ... Daddy and Harold!
Ooooooooooooh!
     "Please, Daddy, let's turn over," Ellen pleaded.
     Roger locked his hands tightly to Ellen's smooth-curving hips and
rolled to the side, pulling her skewered young body backwards on top of
him.  His rapidly throbbing cock was still imbedded deep within her
rectum as she now lay full length on her back tight against his stomach
and chest.  Her legs splayed out limply on the outside of his legs, a
long low mewl coming from her trembling lips.
     Harold didn't hesitate: he leaped over between the blonde nymphet's
widespread legs, straddling Roger's knees, and pushed her quivering
thighs painfully farther apart.  Then he grasped his lust-hardened cock,
still aching from the memories of the two previous fucks he'd given his
girl friend's sister that evening, and guided it with no delay to her
vagina where it burrowed in wet familiar strokes deep into the moistly
flowering depths of her cunt.
     "Ooooooooh," she groaned as it slipped deep inside her belly like
an uncoiling snake, joining her father's pulsating member already buried
to the hilt in her anguished rectum.  She lay moaning and sobbing from
the searing pain of the dual impalement and the forbidden pleasure at
this double attention she was getting from two men.  She lay sandwiched
between the two of them, obscenely impaled on their giant cocks like an
insect mounted on a board, with only the thin wall of flesh between her
violated anal passage and cunt separating the two wildly pumping
instruments.
     The young man did not delay his proceedings.  Already excited from
watching her father's rape of her virginal anus, he began now to fuck
furiously into her steaming wet pussy while Roger beneath began
thrusting up with longer and harder strokes into her rectal passage.  It
took only a moment until they achieved a smooth natural rhythm,
buffeting her between them like a sack of soft, resilient foam rubber.
She emitted now a single low whine which was continuous except for an
occasional grunt from deep in her chest as they fucked demoniacally into
her helpless body with harder and more demanding force.
     Young Mark Green watched it all mesmerized, his eyes now a scant
few feet from where the two long thick cocks skewered into the wide-
stretched area of Ellen's loins.  Everyone knew Mark was in the room now
and no one cared as he hovered over the two men and his own defenseless
girl friend watching the pummeling cocks -- their full lengths gleaming
moistly from Ellen's excited secretions -- jamming wetly into her, the
soft pink edges of her pussy drawing back with Harold's adolescent cock
on the outstroke and then disappearing back inside again as he pumped
his deep, flesh-splitting path inward.  The same process occurred with
the pinkly clasping nether hole which Roger was screwing into with
insane fury, now a person totally different from his former self,
suddenly a real demon.  On and on it went and Mark had to get in on it
too!  Aha -- Ellen's ripe young breasts were free!  Yes!
     Mark shed his clothes and hurried forward, his boyish hardness
leading the way, until the end of his small fourteen-year-old cock was
just over one of Ellen's smoothly contoured breasts.  He twitched the
bulbous head back and forth over her lust-hardened pink nipple, watching
the soft flesh of the rest of the enticing mound quiver responsively at
this action.  He sawed the tightly sensitive head of his cock back and
forth on the stiffening nipple, and then got a better idea!
     He too climbed on the couch, straddling Ellen's head with his
knees, not disturbing Roger who was lying under Ellen, and crouched low
enough to Ellen's body that Harold was also not disturbed as he fucked
into her from the opposite direction.  Mark moved downward on Ellen's
body until his small hairless testicles were dangling close into her
face and the moist tip of his cock could reach the mound he now made by
pressing her young breasts tightly together with his hands.  He rocked
back and forth, his cock sliding in and out between the firm twin mounds
which swelled around his cock in a delicious sucking fashion as he
pumped.  Ellen reached her hand up and cradled the smooth, velvety sac
of his balls as the aroused boy continued his desperate lust-incited
attempt to get into the act.
     Three men on her!  Ellen was amazed.  Wow!  This had never happened
before, and she would never, never forget it.  "Ooooooooh," she mewled,
"more, more, fuck more, fuck harder!  Ooooooooooooh," she went on and
on, in mounting ecstasy.
     Her hips moved backwards to meet the upthrust of her father
plunging hotly into her tender rectum, and then forward again to swallow
all of her sister's boyfriend's plummeting cock into her steaming-hot
pussy.  Her whole body undulated between the two men and her roundly
straining buttocks moved in tiny lascivious circles.  Her own boy friend
Mark, kneeling over her chest, was jerking back and forth in the wide
cleavage of her breasts as quickly as possible while Ellen played with
the youthful balls that grazed her face.
     The three men passionately abusing Ellen was a sight just too much
for her seventeen-year-old sister.  Shocked as she had been by finding
her own father with his long hard cock buried deep up into her pussy --
and at the horrible fact that she'd unconsciously enjoyed it -- she was
now so aroused that her only question was which of the plundering males
to pull off Ellen and stuff into herself.
     Louise lurched toward the couch, considering the possibilities.
Roger was working very hard with his unnatural union below, his long,
blood-engorged cock skewering rapturously up Ellen's rectum as he made
his deep powerful strokes, with an expression on his face of extreme
effort tempered by incredible surges of lust.  No chance of disengaging
him.  Harold, though -- he was the one Roger's older daughter should
have.  After all, he was her boy friend!  She grabbed him by his hips
and pulled with all her girlish might -- Harold as a result nearly lost
his balance, gasped and fell backwards until his cock broke contact with
Ellen's moist working cunt and slid lewdly into the cool open air.  He
turned angrily at Louise who was still tugging at his hips, and, forcing
her hands violently away, he rushed forward again in haste to reunite
his cock with Ellen's lewdly gyrating pussy which sucked gratefully
upward to meet it.
     Louise was left with only one choice: the last, least promising
choice, but still an avenue to the salacious satisfaction which she now
felt she needed more than life itself.  The older brunette sneaked up on
young Mark Green from behind and placed her hands eagerly on his hips:
in one motion she pulled him entirely off from the couch, and into her
own embracing arms.  She was much bigger than Mark, but Mark realized
this voluptuous older girl wanted him and at once began to feel hungrily
around her naked body with his hands.
     Knowing exactly what she wanted, Louise got up on all fours and
presented her naked buttocks up to Mark who sat for a moment gaping in
disbelief at this full woman's cunt, breasts and ass-cheeks presented so
completely and wantonly to him.  But Louise, impatient, said, "Mark,
please, fuck me in the ass!" And she said it extra loud so that the
traitorous Harold would hear.  She liked the idea of her boy friend --
or former boy friend -- seeing her being obscenely sodomized as she
would squirm in wild delight before his jealous eyes.
     "In the ass, Mark," she repeated as she now felt the boy's warm,
spongy cock-head centered over her virginal rectal entrance.  The boy
pushed forward but too lightly, so she reached back and with mutual
effort his cock shaft was before long sunk deep inside her warm rubbery
rectum as she tried frantically to keep from screaming from the
unanticipated pain.  Eventually, she could tolerate it, even like it,
well enough to mewl out -- partly for Harold's benefit --
"Oooooooooooooooh.  Oh Mark, it's good, your cock is good.
Ooooooooooooooh.  Mark, fuck me deeper, Mark; fuck me faster, faster
..."
     Harold was listening and looked up at once to watch, causing a
tremor of pain to run through him which made him in turn fuck even
faster into his girl friend's sister.  Ellen responded by twisting her
hips up to him still more wantonly, and her father fucking into her anal
passage from his long, half-painful thrusts at a speed which seemed that
it would break that little pinkly sucking anus.  The couch rocked on its
legs and the room was full of fantastically humping half-human
creatures.
     "Oooooh, fuck it, fuck it, on, on!" gasped Louise as Mark pressed
tight against her soft white buttocks and rotated the bulbously pounding
head of his cock around and around deep inside her gripping anal
passage.  Her moaning was adding to Mark's pleasure and his hands
crawled over her full smooth buttocks and back, kneading the flesh like
fresh dough, leaving bright red welts from where his fingers dug into
her tender milk-white skin.  He pulled her quivering ass-cheeks wide
apart to drive his pelvis now fully into her yielding buttocks with hard
flat smacks that resounded obscenely through the basement room.  His
breath came in short gasps like a runner, his eyes locked down on the
white, generous fullness of Louise's voluptuous body that slipped over
his plunging cock like a tight-fitting glove.  She waved her buttocks
salaciously back against his eagerly quickening thrusts, just as Ellen
was flailing her curvaceous young body back and forth between the two
wildly thrusting men.
     Ellen wanted them both to split her open with their cocks and drown
her in the gushing loveliness of their mutual sperm.  She hoped it would
come soon for she felt her own lustful sensations almost increased to
the point of climax, but she was holding them back.  There was no pain
anymore, only the lewd feeling of being filled as she had never been in
her life.  At the same time she craned her head and saw Louise with her
round full buttocks arched high up into the air as Mark's wetly
glistening penis impaled her.
     For one instant Harold wanted to cry out, to stop the younger
teenager sodomizing his girl friend, to stop Louise's abandoned and
obscene churning of her ass while she massaged her own jiggling breasts
with one hand and supported her weight with the other.  He wanted to cry
out but he didn't; instead, he watched hypnotically as the frantic tempo
increased by the second, increased to a fever pitch matching his own as
he felt the pressure begin to swirl and build deep down in his sperm-
bloated balls.  Ellen sensed the pressure mounting too, for her young
vaginal muscles were becoming a virtual suction hose of spasmodic
pressure as she clasped and twisted herself ever more desperately around
the older boy's generously large staff of flesh.
     Roger was consumed by his daughter's pliant young buttocks pressed
against his pounding loins, by the entire warm weight of her young body
resting on top of him, and by her passionate girlish groans.  A deep,
half-human moan erupted on its own from his throat and he clenched his
hands tight on the fullness of her breasts, holding her down to him with
all his might until no tiny bit of his exploding cock, not even at the
base, was outside of her rectum.  He quivered and jerked, bouncing the
impaled girl above him, his hot incestuous sperm pulsing the length of
his penis and spewing deep up inside Ellen's body shooting far up in her
little white belly.
     His daughter felt the climax deep in her ravaged anal passage, and
it caused a gush of lust juices to flow from her cunt around Harold's
hard fleshy rod.  She was cumming too, and she groaned out her release
as she jerked her hips quiveringly back and forth to savor the last,
most sensitive pulls at Harold's blood-swollen penis, and then she
tossed her head wildly about and groaned in painful ecstasy as though
she were dying.  She felt it all inside her -- Harold's still hotly
rampaging cock and her father's now deflating penis up in her rectum and
his hot wet cum up there still deeper.
     Harold felt Ellen's cum juices flowing wetly around him and that
gave his powerful thrusts just the added bit of sensitivity he needed.
The older teenager clenched his eyes tightly shut and felt his
constricting testicles begin to wildly erupt, his hot sperm spurting
like a firehose through the end of his driving cock and squirting far up
into Ellen's palpitating vagina.  Despite the excitement of the moment,
the obscene thought of fucking his sperm into his girl friend's younger
sister while her own father sodomized her from behind sent chills of
revulsion creeping through him.  For a moment he considered Ellen a
whore whom he hated, and he jammed his cock as deep as it would go to
spew out the last spurts of its lewd obscene load, he ground his pelvis
around and dug the hard end deeper drubbling the walls of her cunt
without letup.
     Then he relaxed.
     A few feet away Louise and Mark were pumping at an insane staccato
pitch.  Louise swirling her rectal passage around the around Mark's
youthfully stiffened penis and groaning loudly enough to be heard
outdoors.  Suddenly Mark put his hands on his hips and leaned back, to
get his pelvis smacked up fully against Louise's buttocks which she was
spreading apart with her hands.  Mark jerked and writhed as Louise
suddenly gasped feeling her rectum fill with his young load of hot
sticky cum and as this deliciously increased warmth brought her long-
delayed climax shivering electrically at last through all her highly
strung young body.  Louise purred softly like a cat as Mark's hips
continued their orgasmic jerking, the white thick sperm now leaking out
the tight red circle of her anus and pouring down over his satiated
cock.  At last she collapsed like a rag doll on the floor and Mark
pulled his spent penis out and lay down some feet away from her.
Everyone was disconnected now with the single exception of Roger, who
still kept his shrunken cock buried motionless deep up inside his
thirteen-year-old daughter's rectum.
     Roger was nearly unconscious and the evening's activities had
merged in his head into a wild tangled combination of thighs, buttocks,
breasts, and cunts, and of the film flicking away at the end of the room
egging them on.  It was one deliriously swirling, unreal mass, one
discordant symphony, and on the directing podium -- round, young
buttocks to him as they still were now -- was the able mastermind of
every bit of it, the driving genius: his hot little daughter Ellen.



                                Chapter 11

     Early autumn drifted onto Cape Cod like an ocean mist.
     With autumn the appearance of things did not much change, apart
from a slight muting of colors; the weather varied only by a damp chilly
overtone to the breezes -- the breezes themselves hinting the same
forces which produced them would soon bring the storms.  It was a time
that said "Go indoors," though there was still no need; it was a time
when a living room was a pleasant place, and a fire welcomed to take
away the chill.
     Accordingly, the Johnston family was indoors.
     Roger sat contentedly next to Cynthia on the sofa, and, if one
looked closely, one might even see him holding Cynthia's hand which lay
on the couch between them like a couple in courtship.  The two people
looked at the crackling, blazing fire before them.  They did not read,
nor did they stare at the TN.; all they needed at this moment for
enjoyment was the snapping fire and each other.
     Roger got up and poked at the fire: he liked to make fires again,
he liked to tend them.  This was just as symbolic of his new life as was
the smoothness between him and Cynthia.
     Across the room -- sitting on the piano bench with her knees drawn
up and her arms locked around them -- was little Ellen, absorbed in the
book of Bertrand Russell which nestled between her knees.  Ellen looked
a bit quieter these days -- she still dressed in tight shortish clothes,
and she still had a certain springiness about her; yet she did not seem
the imp she had been.  She could find contentment now in things besides
the very unusual.  In short, she'd settled down -- even matured.
     The final member of the family had never really changed very much
in appearance.  Louise always looked like Louise -- trustworthy,
lethargic, attractive -- even when she had been traipsing off to the
evening orgies.  But this was not the case anymore, and the reality now
fitted the appearance.  The thing that most charmed Cynthia was that
Louise again occupied the room again, in the corner designed for her,
with her desk and chair and the comfortable old plush reading chair next
to it.  She sat now in that chair doing some sewing -- in fact, it was
needlepoint.  Cynthia had just taught her how to do it, both women
charmed by finding some new base of contact.  They just liked being
around each other; part of the glow which could these days be seen in
Cynthia's face was caused by the new respect between her and her
daughters.
     Roger Johnston no longer had his business papers scattered about
the room for easy diversion from his family.  He needed -- and wanted --
no diversion.  The papers stayed in his office -- to be honest there
were also a few in his study -- where they belonged.  Since things were
going so well at home it seemed they'd correspondingly perked-up at
work.  The lawsuits were still there, but they would, by God, have a
tiger to reckon with -- Roger Johnston.
     Roger sat next to Cynthia musing on his newfound happiness.  The
incest was a thing of the past, already seeming decades away, though the
final orgy had taken place only a few weeks ago.  Just to prove to
himself how distant he now was from that past, and how totally severed
the incestuous connections with his daughters were, he now returned in
his mind to that final evening, and how suddenly it had ended.
     He had been on the couch, that night, Ellen on top of him, still
joined to him by his deflated penis stuck up her rectum; beside them was
Louise's boy friend Harold, who had just withdrawn from Ellen's
debauched vagina.  On the floor lay Louise on her stomach, collapsed,
half-unconscious, from the sodomy she had just received, with young Mark
Green sitting some feet away contemplating the obscene thing he had just
done, indeed the lewdness of everyone in the room, including him.
     It was a sort of natural pause, this moment after everyone had had
his climax.  Yet Roger still felt a twitching in his loins, as did
Ellen.  And the unshown erotic films were still stacked up by the
projector.  Things would have begun again, and quite soon.  Would have.
     In the silence of this lull, a noise was heard that caused everyone
-- even the prostrate Louise -- to perk up in terror.  They heard
Cynthia pulling in the driveway.  They all knew that soon she would be
in the house and she would expect to find it inhabited.  And she would
-- the naked daughters sprawled out in the basement after being
debauched by the three naked men nearby ... one of whom was ... their
father ...
     The thought of this discovery was too horrible!
     In utter terror, hoping against hope, everyone sprang up and
scrambling around the room finding their clothes, pulled them on, in
some cases skipping the underwear and stuffing it in pockets to save
time.  Roger shouted out quick directions -- "Louise and Harold, you
stay in the basement.  We've got to split up and make everything look
reasonable." The couple went to the couch and sat next to each other,
opening up a copy of Time -- upside down in their haste -- which they
held between them.  From the look of the room nothing had happened --
even the stains on the floor had been ground into disappearance by
shoes.
     Hearing Cynthia close the car door as the others climbed the stairs
out of the basement, Roger thought it was all over.  They could never
make it to the living room in time.  Yet he still hoped.  They just
disappeared into the living room as Cynthia opened the door to the
house.  Roger flicked on the T.V. and it warmed up a fraction of a
second before Cynthia walked in the room.
     What she saw was Roger sitting in his chair with his papers nearby,
glancing absent-mindedly at the T.V.  And on the couch, next to each
other like shy boy friend and girl friend -- quite cute, really -- sat
Mark and Ellen, coyly holding hands and staring at the T.V.  Most
important, she saw all eyes turn to her filled with interest and
everyone smiled and said hello.  Indeed, it was quite a welcome; she
never even suspected its causes.
     So the secret of the incest was safe.
     Moreover, it did not, and would never, recur.  The near-discovery
had so frightened all the participants that it had all ended in one fell
swoop, forever.  Even the kingpin -- Ellen -- had been so profoundly
shocked that she mended her ways.
     Cynthia had come home from a psychology class she had been taking
in the evenings quite stimulated intellectually by the teacher.  And the
welcome she found made her believe her own cheerful state of mind was
the cause.  Through the ensuing class sessions, the teacher touched on
this very theme.  The course was still far from done, but one solution
to the world's problems which was emerging was to begin with the
situation and group where you found yourself and try to improve that.
The welcome Cynthia had found she thought she caused; and in the ensuing
weeks, she did cause it -- she became so cheerful and so confident that
she could do something with the people nearest her to build a more
meaningful life, that she did.
     Roger did not know that Cynthia had found some theoretical base for
improving her family life; that she had come home that fateful evening
with an unparalleled optimism.  All he knew was that he had been so
shocked at the possibility of discovery that not only didn't he want the
incest to recur, but he wanted to begin a better marriage with Cynthia
and to be a good father once more to his daughters.
     The family dog, Thor, now walked into the room and curled at Roger
and Cynthia's feet, warming himself by the fire.  No one even paused to
think of the role he, too, had once played in the former sexual
excesses.
     But -- importantly -- sex was now by no means absent from the
Johnston house.  One wouldn't guess that sex lived so fully there by the
staid outside appearance -- the dark, evenly trimmed rows of hedges, the
old trees, the solid stone house itself, the dusty Rolls Royce which
could sometimes be seen to glide in and out of the garage.  And inside
the house, too, one saw wealth and a solid, non-ostentatious kind of
contentment, but nothing to hint really at passion.  Yet it was there.
It was not present in the domestic contentment of the moment in the
living room.  But it was there.
     It was up in the newly installed king-sized bed in Roger and
Cynthia's bedroom.
     When the lights went out at night, one might hear the lock turn on
the bedroom door, and one might soon hear the ensuing groans, mewls,
moans which issued from the bed.  For Roger was now applying all of the
sexual knowledge he had gained from his daughter, he was applying it --
all of it -- to his wife.  Oral sex was now commonplace -- often as soon
as Roger got his pants off Cynthia pounced on his cock; the intercourse
itself was prolonged, varied, and good; and even sodomy occurred
regularly.  Roger was applying all that he'd learned from Ellen to
Cynthia, who had -- before -- seldom groaned, mewled, or went into an
ecstasy over his approaches.  But now she did, all right.  She had
become just as sexually responsive as Ellen had been; Roger had brought
out all of her latent sensuality, and now he had the joy of reaping the
harvests for their mutual good.
     Down in the living room, Roger poured Cynthia and himself a glass
of cognac.  They clinked the glasses together, and then downed the
contents.  He didn't drink anymore, beyond this nightcap he shared every
evening with his wife.  The daughters had now already gone to bed, and
the fire had turned to embers.  The autumn wind whipped at the windows.
The couple put down the empty glasses.
     Roger led Cynthia by the hand up to the bedroom.  They closed the
door silently behind them, twisted the lock, and smiled: now they were
alone.  Immediately, they fell still dressed on the bed, beginning
another slow and luxurious night of sensuality.



                                The End

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