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Chapter 1
The Bahamian island of Eleuthera is a saber-shaped spit of glistening
white coral sand in the crystalline waters of the Caribbean Sea. One
can get there by boat or by plane. It was on such a shuttle flight from
Nassau that Davie Knight sat and breathlessly looked out of the narrow
window on December 20th. The sixteen year old kept knotting a silk
scarf between her hands, a gesture which could not escape the watchful
notice of the striking older blonde woman who sat next to her. The
twin-engine plane was small and claustrophobic. There was nothing but a
sparkling expanse of transparent blue sea below them. Perhaps she's
frightened, the woman was thinking to herself as she surveyed the
luscious fresh-faced teen, whose long, glossy sable brown hair hung
past her pert up-thrust young breasts that were demurely hidden behind
a navy blue cardigan sweater. An emblem sewn to tile sweater pocket
identified the girl as a student at one of the chic New York City
parochial schools for rich girls.
The young girl's large hazel eyes had an apprehensive look, and from
time to time, she would bite her full, sensuous lower lip. Color
flushed the girl's smooth cheeks, though she wore no makeup. Nor did
she need any. Hers were the vital and strikingly delineated features of
the natural beauty.
By contrast, the older blonde woman next to her had artfully used the
best cosmetics to embellish her sophisticated good looks. Subtle blue
eye shadow and contrasting deep blue liner, plus a generous application
of rich black mascara added depth and intensity to her bright blue
eyes. Blusher and bronzes augmented an unexplainable sun tan in the
middle of winter, a sun tan which was apparent on the woman's smooth
thighs and arms when she removed her lightweight jacket. A clinging
beige knit mini-dress did little to hide her ample braless breasts,
whose firm nipples showed pointedly under the fabric.
The blonde studied the preoccupied teenager for a long moment, looking
intently at her face, and then up and down the length of her body,
almost the way a man would. Her eyes narrowed, and she involuntarily
flicked her tongue out to lick her coral lips salaciously. Then the
moment passed, and her expression became one of friendly concern as she
gently tugged at the teenager's sleeve and said, "Excuse me."
She waited until the startled girl turned to her. She's nervous as
hell, the blonde thought. With a warm and reassuring smile, the woman
asked, "I didn't mean to startle you, but I was wondering if I could
answer any questions or just be of help. I've flown this hop so many
times."
Davie's eyes widened. She seemed reassured. "You have?" she asked
breathlessly.
"Oh yes. I'm a stewie. But this time I'm deadheading. This is my
vacation. Are you on a school holiday ... all by yourself?" she probed.
"Well, sort of. My father is meeting me though I'll be staying with him
"
The blonde concealed her momentary disappointment. "Oh, how nice. Does
he have a house on Eleuthera?"
Actually, it's a resort. French Leave."
The blonde brightened visibly. "What a coincidence! That's where I'll
be staying, too! So Peter Knight is your father!"
"You know Daddy?" the girl asked with surprise.
"Not personally, of course. But this is my third visit to French Leave.
I absolutely love it. There's no place quite like it, don't you think?
And your father is in a class by himself, too. He has to be one of the
most attractive men in the world. Matter of fact, you look a lot like
him. You certainly have his eyes, and his coloring, and the same kind
of mouth ... full and well-shaped." (She had almost said "sensual" but
thought better of it. Down girl, she had reminded herself. Not yet. Not
yet.)
Davie blushed, "Everyone says that Daddy and I look alike. It makes my
mother furious. You'd never know I was her daughter at all!" Davie
giggled mischievously. She was obviously delighted by the affront to
her mother which the blonde quickly picked up on. She pressed her
inquiry.
"It's a good thing your mother isn't here right now, isn't it?" the
blonde said with a between-us-girls look on her face. She punctuated it
with a broad, sparkling smite, which put Davie further at ease.
"Wow! You can say that again!" Davie agreed, answering the smile with
eyes heavenward in an expression of relief. "It's a good thing she
isn't here for a lot of reasons!"
"But will she be meeting you, with your father?" the blonde inquired
casually.
"Good grief, no! She's back in New York, in her precious little world
of tea parties, shopping sprees and charity balls. Yeeehhhck!" Davie
said emphatically. "My parents have been divorced for three years."
"I'm sorry to hear that, uh ...
"Davie."
"What a beautiful name. It suits you perfectly," the blonde cooed. "I'm
Trish Byers, Davie."
"Happy to meet you, Miss Byers. Everybody calls me Davie. Everyone
except my mother ...
"Oh please--please call me Trish. You make me feel a hundred and fifty
years old when you say Miss Byers!"
"I'm sorry ... Trish I didn't mean that at all. You're beautiful. It's
just that at school they make us call everyone over twenty Miss or
Mister. Force of habit, you know," Davie answered shyly.
"Well that's one habit you can break right now--at least while you're
on vacation. We'll be in Paradise in about twenty minutes. Then it's
off with the school clothes and into the bikini for you! You do have a
bikini, don't you?"
"Yes! Mummy sent me off with some square one-piece suit I wouldn't be
caught dead in. That's typical of her. But the first thing I did when I
got off the plane at Nassau was run to the neatest shop and buy myself
a skimpy little hot pink number that's just a lot of strings crocheted
together. Mummy would have a stroke if she knew!" Davie giggled
girlishly again.
Trish grinned back in a conspiratorial way. "Good for you, honey it
sounds as though 'mummy' is a little straight laced."
Davie threw back her hands and brought them down on her thighs
emphatically. "Ohhh! You wouldn't believe it! She is the most super
uptight, most hypocritical person in the whole world! She makes my life
so miserable."
"But she is letting you come all the way to Eleuthera by yourself for
Christmas. That doesn't seem like something an uptight mother would
do," Trish ventured.
"Because she had to. The judge made her do it. She would never have let
me see my father otherwise. She didn't want me to see him ever again!"
said Davie, and a look of distress crossed her lovely face.
"How long has it been, honey?"
"Three years! I was thirteen when Daddy left. I cried for a whole
month. Mummy hated me for that, and it made her hate him more. She
thought I'd forget about him and that he'd forget about me. But it
didn't work that way. At least, I haven't forgotten him.
Trish reached over and placed a warm hand on the teen's knee and patted
it consolingly. Now she knew the reason for the scarf knotting and the
fidgeting at the window. It wasn't the plane ride, it was Daddy Davie
she was worried about. Three years is a long time to be separated from
anyone.
"It's going to be fine, just fine, Davie. After a few hours, it'll seem
like your dad never went away. You're going to love French Leave.
Everything is so beautiful, and everyone is so relaxed. You won't want
to go back."
"Do you really think so, Trish? I mean, about Dad and me? I know I
won't want to go back I never want to go back to that ... that bitch!"
Trish raised a carefully plucked eyebrow. "That's a pretty strong word,
Davie, Is it ready that bad?"
"I hate her," Davie said levelly. "She's made me go to that horrible
school all these years--that ghetto for nice girls from good families,
quote unquote. It's a prison. And she won't let me go out with boys or
have parties at home. Yet she has parties! I'm not supposed to know
what goes on. We have this huge place, a condominium. Lots of rooms. My
'quarters' are off at one end, but I've seen a lot! I know what goes
on. Mummy and her arty little fag decorator friends and swishy
hairdressers. It makes me want to puke."
"I can't imagine any woman letting a man like your father go ..."
offered Trish, hoping for more juicy details from the innocent girl.
"That's just it--he's a real man. Mummy doesn't want a real man around.
She has to wear the pants in the family."
"And your father obviously wants a real woman, doesn't he?"
"Sure. That's why he couldn't take it any more. I think Mummy was
emasculating him, not treating him like a man; not giving him the love
and affection and ... well, you know what I mean," Davie added shyly.
"Sex?"
"Exactly. They had separate bedrooms. That went on for almost a year.
My father started coming home later and later from the office. He and
my mother rarely even talked to each other. Yet she insisted that he
had to go to all the stupid charity balls and parties, put on a front
for their friends. One day he came home and packed all his things and
left a long letter for me and a two word note for my mother. She never
got over that blow to her pride. Even though she got everything--the
apartment the beach house on Long island, the car--and custody of me
she has kept punishing him in every way she could. But she's punished
me, too, by not letting me see him for three years. She's done
everything she could to turn me against him, and it's only made me love
him more and resent her."
"That really wasn't very smart of her, or fair at all, trying to turn
you against your father. But she's obviously very bitter," Trish
offered sympathetically.
"Really. But so am I. And I'm scared, too. I mean, what if Daddy
doesn't want to be bothered with me? I know he's very busy and I might
be in the way and ..."
"Nonsense! Your father loves you very much, I know. This is probably
the best thing that's happened to him in three years, Davie," Trish
said in her most sincere, maternal manner as she once more placed her
haled on the lovely girl's and squeezed it reassuringly. But inwardly
she was thinking about the lucky women Peter Knight must have screwed
to ecstasy with his beautiful cock. She envied the women who had felt
his fiery hot cum in their pussies; the women who had felt his
beautiful wet mouth and tongue in their cunts, licking and sucking them
to the heights of cunnilingual rapture. She felt her own cuntal juices
begin to ooze into her panties, and her clitoris throbbed with
excitement. But she forced herself to maintain a masque of sympathetic
and conciliatory interest. She wanted to be damned sure she didn't blow
her game before she got a chance to blow Peter Knight's hard cock! Then
there was his sweet, virginal and oh-so-appealing daughter. Trish had
plans for her, too. Big, juicy plans! "Everything is going to work out
just fine, Davie I know it will."
"Do you really think so, Trish? Do you?" the girl asked anxiously.
"I know so. There's not a thing to worry about. You and your daddy will
get along just great. And I'll be there. You and I can do fun things
together when your dad's working. And there'll be someone else who
might be fun for you ..."
"Someone else? Who?" the teenager asked, her clear hazel eyes growing
wider.
"My kid brother, Randy. He's 19. He's meeting me at the airport. He
works for the Pan Am radar installation on the island. He's lots of
fun.
"Does Randy know my father?"
"A little. It's a small island, you know. And there aren't that many
whites. So everybody sort of knows everybody else. Randy lives at the
base on the other end of the island, with a bunch of other guys. I'm
based in Nassau, but I come to Eleuthera every chance I get."
"That's why you've got such a great tan, I guess. I'm so white and
yucky looking, I'll have to hide out for a couple of days until I get
toasted!"
The pilot's gravely voice interrupted on the intercom, "Ladies and
gentlemen, we are approaching the landing field. Please be sure your
seat belts are securely fastened and extinguish all smoking material
until you are outside the field gates. We hope you enjoy your stay in
Eleuthera. Thanks for being aboard."
Davie peered out the plane window. Her hands gripped the arm rests.
Trish Byers patted tile pretty brunette's arm gently. "Don't worry,
honey. Everything's going to work out fine just fine!"
* * *
Among the dozen or so spectators who watched the small aircraft touch
down on the strip was a man who stood out by virtue of his proud,
straight bearing, his aura of confidence and his devastating good
looks. Peter Knight was a man who would be noticed anywhere. His body
was firm and muscular, without an ounce of excess fat. His white slacks
were impeccably tailored and the navy blue polo shirt he wore
accentuated his broad chest and ample biceps. He was a youthful forty,
a man with the features of Paul Newman, except that his eyes were hazel
and his dark brown wavy hair was only slightly streaked with strands of
gray. He was deeply tanned, and had acquired little laugh lines around
his deep-set eyes. He smiled readily, showing strong and even white
teeth. How different was his expression now from the one Davie
remembered when she had seen him last three long years ago. In those
days, Peter Knight was a successful commodity broker with a seat on the
New York Stock Exchange. He was harried and depressed usually, the
sunny side of his nature occluded by a bad marriage and what he called
the "New York rat race'--both of which he wanted out of. He had always
dreamed of opening his own resort, but Davie's mother wouldn't hear of
it. She wanted the prestige, the financial security, the social life
that went with being a successful broker's wife, though she had plenty
of family money of her own and didn't have to rely upon his income for
the lavish and pointless lifestyle that ensnared them. It took guts to
make the break, but Peter Knight felt that, except for Davie, leaving
New York was the best think he had ever done. The resort was an
immediate success. He always had tile Midas touch for financial
ventures. But he was apprehensive about his little girl. What would she
be like now? Would he be able to handle her? Had three years of her
mother's poison gotten to her after all? Her letters were warm and
loving. Still, he had to acknowledge that they really didn't know each
other very well. They were both living with fantasies and memories of
the past. She was sixteen now; a teenager. Christ, he didn't know a
damned thing about teenagers ... especially a sixteen year old girl!
Twelve passengers descended the metal stairs from the twin-engine
plane. Peter Knight's heartbeat quickened as he spotted the shy and
stunning young girl who walked in the company of a flashy blonde he
recognized as a previous guest at the resort. She was a stewardess, a
hot number who had made overtures to him in the past. But he was very
cautious about getting involved with his paying clients. It was too
risky for a lot of reasons.
He went to the girls, a big appealing grin on his face. His manner was
smooth and straightforward but his palms were damp.
"Davie! How are you, sweetheart?" he said as he rushed to embrace his
daughter. Her sunny, angular little girl's body had been transformed
into the soft, round curves of a young woman. He could feel the warmth
of her firm globular breasts against his chest as he hugged her. Her
glossy, sable hair was fragrant with a clean herb scent, like wild
grasses in a field. It was longer than before, framing her beautiful
young face whose clear, hazel eyes shone moistly from tears of emotion.
"Oh Daddy, Daddy! I thought I'd never see you again!" Davie cried. She
was almost sobbing now.
Peter Knight held his daughter closely for another long moment, a
moment which was fraught with unvoiced emotion. Then he was conscious
of the smiling blonde who was observing them from just a few feet away.
She had the same faintly predatory look that had raised a red flag in
his mind when he had seen her before. But he had to admit that she was
a good-looking broad all right, with the best pair of legs he had ever
seen. And boobs that jutted out like ripe melons aching to be plucked.
She must have fucked a thousand guys, he thought to himself. I'll bet
she's one hellulva piece of ass.
He extended his hand to Trish, "I'm Peter Knight. I think we've met at
French Leave."
Davie interjected excitedly. "Oh excuse me, Trish, Daddy, this is my
friend, Trish Byers. She's stayed with you before. She's a stewardess
with Pan Am."
He overlooked the innocent faux pas. "Yes, I recognize Miss Byers as
one of our guests. Nice to see you again, Miss Byers."
"Daddy don't call her Miss Byers. That makes her feel old. She wants to
be called Trish."
The blonde grinned with embarrassment, but she gave him a practiced
provocative look.
"Can we give you a ride, Trish?" Peter Knight offered.
"Thank you, but I'm being met by my brother." She looked around then
and a glint of recognition crossed her face as she caught sight of a
shaggy haired youth who was leaning casually against a red MG
convertible. Trish waved at the boy, who made no move to approach. When
Knight turned around, he recognized the boy as a frequent visitor to
the resort bar. He thought it strange that the youth did not come
forward.
As though divining his thoughts, Trish quickly added, "Randy's very
shy. But you'll meet him. Well, Davie, I'll see you later, OK?"
"Right, Trish. And thanks for everything."
The blonde winked at the school girl. "There's nothing to thank me for.
That's what friends are all about."
Chapter 2
Once they were settled in the sleek silver Porsche and heading down the
road toward French Leave, Peter Knight and his daughter began to relax
in each other's company a bit. There is something permissive and
seductive about a Caribbean Island, particularly one like Eleuthera,
where the brilliant semi-tropical sun and the absence of pressure
invite one to shed cares, clothing and convention. This was Peter
Knight's home ground now, and he assumed the role of confident host and
tour guide--though the principal charm of Eleuthera is the absence of
commerce and people such commerce attracts. Indeed, French Leave is the
only tourist attraction. There isn't much to "see" except the coral-
studded sea and several miles of pristine, white coral sand dotted with
lush tropical vegetation.
Davie couldn't get over the contrast between Eleuthera, where the
temperature was 78 degrees and they passed only a few Bahamian natives
along the road and an occasional car, and New York City, where the
temperature had been a bone-chilling 27, and the thousands of faces
that passed her were all uniformly gray and cheerless. She pulled off
her sweater and slithered down in the black leather seat of her
father's sports car, letting the warm island breeze blow her shining
dark hair away from her face. She closed her eyes and let the hot sun
beat on her smooth fair skin, feeling as though the weight of the world
had been lifted from her young shoulders. Peter Knight stole a glance
at his little girl, noting again how much of a woman she had become in
three years. Her full ripe breasts strained against her prim white
blouse. She had kicked off her shoes and socks and her bare legs were
smooth and slender beneath her pleated shirt. He had to remind himself
that Davie was no longer a child and he couldn't treat her as one now.
He also had to remind himself that she was his daughter.
"Did you have a nice chat with Trish Byers?" he suddenly asked. Davie
opened her eyes and looked at her father, "Oh yes, Daddy. She's so
understanding. Really a nice woman. And so pretty, too. She's a dish!"
"Yes, Miss Byers is quite attractive. But I'm sure she knows that."
"She thinks you're quite something yourself."
"Ohhh?" Knight reacted with surprise, though he knew that the
stewardess seemed to have the hots for him. But he felt she probably
had the hots for most men; she seemed like the kind of woman who
couldn't get enough cock. That's what he didn't like about her. He
liked a woman who was more selective, who was harder to get. There was
no challenge with a dame like Trish Byers--except to keep your pants
up! Still, she could probably give a guy the fuck of his life. She was
one hot cunt all right. As for her "brother," Peter didn't like tile
cut of the kid's jib. He doubted that tile mop-haired youth really was
her brother, though he might he. He didn't want his tender daughter
mixed up with either of them, though he didn't know how to tell Davie
that without arousing suspicion in her mind. Besides, the kid had had
enough controls from her bitch mother. He wasn't about to start putting
clamps on her the minute she arrived. He would see to it that every
moment would be beautiful and memorable for Davie. He knew now that he
wanted her with him always. He desperately hoped that she would want
that too.
* * *
About a mile behind, a red MG was cruising along the two-lane road with
its two blonde passengers. Randy Ferris sat behind the wheel of the
sports car, his faded skin-tight jeans showing a huge bulge in the
crotch where his rock-hard cock was straining to be free of its denim
prison. It had grown to gargantuan proportions under the skillful and
incessant manipulations of the blonde stewardess beside him. His brown
hand was under her beige miniskirt and he was massaging the wet slit of
her pussy with his middle finger.
"Geezus, baby, you're hot as a pistol. You must not have been gettin'
it more than six times a day lately," he wisecracked.
"I've had a run of bummers, honey. Besides, you know how I feel about
your prick, lover. There's just nobody who can do me like my li'l ol'
baby brother."
"Yeah. But you keep tryin', don'tcha? I saw how you came on to Knight--
and his kid. You'd like a taste of that stuff, wouldn't you?" Randy
said, looking at her with a cocksure smirk on his lean, handsome face.
"You don't miss a trick, do you sweetie? That's why I feel so good with
you. No games. No pretense. Just good, clean dirty sex--lots of sucking
and fucking, the way I like it," Trish answered, rubbing her voluptuous
breast against the youth's muscled arm.
"So what about the Knight kid? Have you gotten into her pussy yet?"
Randy teased.
"Don't be silly. It's only a twenty minute flight!" the stewardess
teased back.
"Baby, I wouldn't put anything past you--even on a twelve passenger
plane in broad daylight!"
"She's going to take a little longer. She's been shut up in a convent
school with a lot of dried up nuns and a faggotballing mother who's out
to make damned sure she doesn't get her precious little cherry popped.
No wonder her old man took off. Who could live with a bitch like that?
I'll bet he's one helluva swordsman."
"That hasn't done you much good so far, baby " Randy jibed. "You might
have to stand in line for that dude."
"You wouldn't want to lay money on that, would you, Covey?" Trish
purred, giving him a devilish look.
Randy searched her face. Her lips were curled in a confident smirk.
"G'wan," he said, "you don't think you're going to nag Knight and his
sweet-assed daughter too!"
"That's exactly what I intend to do," Trish responded emphatically,
squeezing the lips of her pussy tighter around her brother's finger. He
was her half-brother, actually, the product of a marriage between her
mother and step-father. She and Randy had been balling for three years,
and he was a straight-A student in the sex education courses she gave
him. They had a unique relationship. They both loved each other very
much, and yet there was no jealousy between them. She urged Randy to
get as much pussy as he could, knowing of course that she would always
be first with him. And she delighted in recounting every detail of her
encounters in bed with other men--and women. Trish was 29 (though she
looked a couple of years younger) and she really had no intention of
getting married. It would, unless she got a very exceptional man, put
an end to her affair with her kid brother, as well as various other men
and women of her acquaintance. She would never sacrifice that for a
home and a meal ticket.
"Not only am I going to nail that dynamic duo, but being the generous
and loving sister that I am, I'm going to see that you get a crack at
that virginal little pussy as well.
Would you like that, my love? Would you like to be first to split her
hot little cunt with your big hard prick?"
"Are you kidding? Christ, would l! But you're out of your mind, Trish.
Knight would have my balls on a spit if he ever found out. My balls--
and yours, too!"
"Trust me, precious. Trust your sis. Have I ever let you down?" The
youth shook his head. "I won't this time, either. Randy, I promise you
I won't. Now finish me off, honey. Finger me off. I'm almost ready to
cum!" And Trish scooted down further in the bucket seat, spread her
smooth, sun-tanned legs further apart, opening the wet crack of her
slippery cunt wider to her brother's skillful manipulations and closed
her eyes, while he fingered her to a thrilling orgasm in the topless MG
on the road to French Leave.
Chapter 3
It was six o'clock. The sun was brilliant but low in the December sky
as Trish and Randy settled down in the big bed in the attractive
bungalow which Trish had rented at French Leave. They had both
undressed immediately, Trish still eager for the loving only her
brother could give her. Her climax in the MG had only made her more
eager for love making, and she hungered for the youth's trim, sun-
tanned body, for his young mouth and his mammoth cock. She never grew
tired of making it with Randy. The incestuous nature of their affair
made it more exciting for both of them.
For Randy, there was no woman who could hold a candle to Trish in bed--
and he had taken her advice and fucked as many women as he could. There
were chicks of all sizes and shapes, chicks of all ages. But Trish led
the pack by a country mile. He surveyed her boldly. What a bod! She was
lying wantonly on the bed, her long, tanned legs spread wide in a
tantalizing pose, exposing the softly palpitating lips of her cunt to
his prurient gaze. There were no patches of white to mar the even
expanse of tawny shin; Trish sunbathed in the buff. Her firm,
voluptuous breasts stood like matched mountains demanding conquest,
their berry-sized crests already hard and quivering with anticipation.
They began to kiss, filling each other's mouths with their wet tongues.
His hot hands were on her breasts, stroking them, pinching the nipples
between his thumb and forefinger. She arched her back, offering him her
luscious breasts to do with as he pleased. She was already moaning and
squirming on the bed, her hand clutching her brother's stiff cock and
reaching below to stroke his hairy balls. With the other hand, she
caressed his rippling back flesh and tickled the back of his neck
beneath his thick, shaggy blonde hair with the delicate tips of her
brightly lacquered nails. Goosebumps rose on his flesh and he shivered
involuntarily with pleasure as he bent down to take her pouting nipple
into his mouth, sucking it gently at first, and then puffing a generous
portion of warm flesh into his oral siphon.
"Oh God, baby! Oh Randy! Baby I've missed you so much. Let me suck your
cock, baby. I'm starved for your cock. I'm thirsty for your cum.
The blonde youth's cock leapt into full hardness at her lascivious
words; she never failed to make him rock-hard and compliant to her
every demand in bed. Her wish was his command, and he got nothing but
the fullest pleasure in return for his obeisance to his horny sister.
"Lie back, my baby, and let your ever-lovin' sis suck your sweet meat
until your delicious hot cum scalds my lips and tongue and throat."
Randy wasted no time in doing as she asked. He turned over and lay on
his back with his legs spread apart, anticipating the expert cock-
sucking he was going to get from his beautiful sexpot sister. Trish was
fantastic. She could almost fuck you off verbally, using all the right
words to make a guy heat up until he could almost cum from being
"talked off."
Trish kneeled between her brother's legs, letting her soft blonde hair
cascade over her face to brush across Randy's jutting cock, which stood
upright like a truncheon from his loins. He sucked in his breath as she
waved her head back and forth across his man-meat and his muscled
bronze thighs. Then she scooted forward, until her pneumatic breasts
were cradling his prick in the hot cleavage, and she massaged his cock
with the warm globes of flesh. This drove him crazy too. He loved every
moment of the delicious agonizing pleasure, for the sperm was building
up in his balls already, and he could hardly wait until her lips were
fastened tightly around his cock and she was sucking his cum out as
though it were a vanilla malt. He's meeting me at the airport. He works
for the Pan Am radar installation on the island.
Trish drew back and took his cock in her hand. She began to stroke it
gently, teasingly, letting her fingers trace delicate patterns down the
length of his sex-flesh and around his straining balls. Randy could
hardly stand it anymore. He groaned with pleasure as her taunting
manipulations sent shivers of electric delight up and down his body.
Then she lifted the heavy sac of his testicles and slid her finger
beneath them, to toy with the puckered ring of his anus, driving him to
even greater heights of anticipation. Finally he could wait no longer.
Almost pleadingly, he cried out to her, "Oh Trish, baby. C'mon-suck it
now. Suck it!"
"Yes, baby. Yes, darling. I'm going to suck it now. I'm going to put it
in my mouth and suck and suck until you shoot that load of precious cum
down my throat!" And she bent down immediately and fastened her soft,
moist lips around his cock, kissing the blood-engorged head lightly at
first, and then letting her tongue slide out between her lips to probe
the tiny slit in his cockhead, drinking away the clear lubricating ooze
that was to her as nectar is to a bee. She mewled and purred with
delight as she savored the taste of her brother's cock juices on her
taste buds. Randy fastened his hands in her hair and urged his pelvis
upward, driving his cock deep into the warm grotto of her mouth.
Trish opened her jaws to give him free passage to fuck up inside her
throat and then, like a Venus Fly Trap, she closed her coral lips over
his hardness and gripped his cock tightly.
Her fiery tongue licked circles of molten lava along the underside of
his shaft, and she began to suck him lovingly, eliciting groans of
pleasure from the youth, who was writhing sensuously on the bed as she
sucked him and stroked his burgeoning balls with her free hand.
Her sucking was accomplished and rhythmical now, as she confidently
licked and sucked her brother's cock, knowing--as only the skillful
female lover knows-that she would soon make him cum, and at the moment
she wanted him to.
Randy lifted his head to watch her convoluted lips working hungrily on
his cock. The sight of her sucking him never ceased to increase his
arousal and his loins tense and jerked upward into her face, all the
fleshy expanse disappearing with each forward thrust, except for a
small stretch of it that glistened with her wet saliva.
Trish sucked wantonly, her mind consumed by her mouth's occupation. She
felt she had been born for this; to make love, to give pleasure with
her body and to receive it with her body. She flashed on the remembered
image of Peter Knight standing so straight and dignified at the air
field. She allowed herself to imagine that it was his cock she was
sucking off. What a beautiful cock he must have, and how sweet his cum
must be! She would taste it, all right. She would for damned sure! And
as she thought of Peter Knight, she sucked her brother's cock with even
more verve and determination, her breasts dancing wildly below her
pumping head, bringing Randy closer and closer to his longed-for
release.
"Suck it, SUCK IT OFF!" Randy urged, as he dropped his head back on the
pillow and closed his eyes. For a moment, he pretended it was the
tender lips and tongue of Davie Knight that were ministering to his
carnal needs, that it was the pretty teenager who was sucking him off.
Despite the square getup she was wearing, he had found her a super
looking kid with good boobs and legs. There was something innocently
sexy about her that she probably wasn't even aware of. She might be
screwed up about sex with the kind of life she must have lived, hut he
wasn't so sure. From his experience, those sheltered little schoolgirls
usually turned out to be the wildest numbers on the block, once they
had gotten laid. Geezus, it would really be a helluva hayride to get
that tender young piece, shoot his boiling cum down her throat, into
her sweet virgin cunt, maybe even her asshole ... Trish just had to
come through this time--he knew for sure now that he really wanted that
Knight chick!
The impassioned blonde slaved over him, her body glistening from tiny
droplets of sweat. The pressure was building in Randy's balls, she
knew. She had sucked him off so many times since that first night when
she crept into his bedroom and crawled under the sheet and placed his
young cock into her mouth while he was still fast asleep. By the time
he was fully awake, he was too far gone to protest, though he had been
totally shocked to find his sister sucking him off. But there had been
a growing attraction between them for a long time, and he had often
jerked off at night, cumming into a wad of Kleenex while having
fantasies about his older sister.
Randy forget about Davie Knight. He was consumed by thoughts of his
impending orgasm, and of the hot-blooded female who was blowing him so
beautifully, so perfectly, so much better than any other woman could
do. Trish was the best, the absolute best at everything in bed--
sucking, fucking, you name it. He drove his cock into her mouth harder
and harder, pumping his loins against her face like a wild man until
she gave a protesting mumble--which only spurred him to more frenzied
bucking in his desire for the final release of semen in his scrotum.
And then-
"Ba-by ... ohhh, baaa-byyy ... I'm goring to ...
The first fiery eruption of cum took place and he was seized with an
epileptic trembling throughout his body as the torrent of white-hot
fire shot through the length of his cock.
"... CUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMM. Ahhhhhhgggghh! Suuuuuuuccckh meeeeeeee!"
He was gasping, his lips were drawn back against his teeth and his brow
was furrowed as though he were in agony. His prick began a sudden wild,
convulsive jerking that flooded Trish's madly sucking mouth with
torrent after torrent of burning semen, bloating her cheeks and forcing
her to swallow desperately to keep from choking. She was crooning
excitedly and ticking his testicles with the tips of her fingers as she
continued to suck and swallow without letup.
Finally, with one last groan and convulsive shudder as the lovely
blonde stewardess drank the juices of his passion, Randy spiked the
final drops of his seed into her mouth.
Trish continued to nibble gently at the fleshy instrument long after
Randy's body lay spent and motionless except for an occasional
aftershock from his quaking orgasm. She always loved the way he came--
powerfully, explosively, and his climax went on and on. With some guys,
you'd never know they had crossed the finish line if you didn't have
something to mop afterwards!
At last, when she knew she milked every last drop of semen from his
balls for the time being, and when his rod began to lose some of its
hardness, Trish crawled up and kissed her brother on the mouth. Randy
threw a heavy arm over her and sighed a sigh of total fulfillment.
"That was ... the greatest. The best," he said thickly. "Nobody does it
as good as you. The best."
Trish smiled broadly. She agreed completely. "Rest a while, love. Then
I'll give you a chance to nibble on my pussy. And if you do it well, if
you really eat my pussy until you make me cum all over your wonderful
mouth and tongue, then ... then, maybe, I'll tell you just how you're
going to get into little Davie Knight's sweet box!"
At these words, Randy suddenly found himself alert. His well-satisfied
cock began to lurch into hardness again.
"Tell me!" he demanded.
"Patience, love. You might not be able to take it on an empty stomach,"
she teased.
Randy grinned. "Yeah, you're right. I think I'll have a bite to eat
first." And with that he went straight to his task, licking and sucking
his sister's pussy until she did indeed cum all over his mouth.
* * *
Peter Knight looked across the candlelit table at his daughter. He
couldn't get over how much she had changed since he had left the
luxurious condominium on Park Avenue and moved to the Bahamas. Davie
had always been a pretty little girl, even as a youngster. But now! Now
she grown into a real beauty. She was wearing a floor-length dress, a
cotton print that was very girlish, and yet it delineated her trim
waist and her generous young breasts in a most provocative way. Even
her bare arms were lovely. Her large, hazel eyes glowed softly in the
candlelight and seemed almost golden.
He was suddenly aware of the silence and the fact that he had been
staring at his daughter. He cleared his throat. "How's school this
year, darling?" he asked her in a somewhat forma tone. (School was the
last thing on his mind, but it would get Davie to talking.)
She wrinkled her nose, closed her small fist and made a "thumbs down"
gesture with her hand. "Terrible. The worst."
"You're keeping your grades up, aren't you?" he asked earnestly. (Davie
was always a good student. Bright as hell.)
"Oh, sure ... it's not that difficult--though the nuns throw as much at
us as they can. The idle brain is the devil's workshop, don't you know!
It's just that.
"Just what, sweetheart? Tell me," he urged, reaching across the table
and taking her hand in his.
"Oh, Daddy, It's a horrible place!" she blurted . "They treat us like
children--or inmates! It's a prison. I absolutely hate it there. I
always have."
"I never realized that, Davie. You don't say too much about it in your
letters."
"I know I didn't want to worry you or anything. I wanted you to think I
was happy ... so you wouldn't feel bad about being so far away," she
stated simply, as only an innocent can do.
Peter Knight was genuinely touched. This was his beloved daughter
speaking, the one person in the whole world he really loved. She was
his daughter, and she was expressing concern for his needs, for his
welfare. He had left her and gone off, free as the wind, to pursue his
dream.
God, he never realized how much he had failed her! He had thought of
his own selfish needs, rationalizing that Davie would be better in New
York with her mother and her school friends--something solid to depend
upon. Sure, that was part of it. But he hadn't allowed himself to
consider that maybe Davie would be happier with him. After all, what
would he do with a teenage girl in the house? How could he have any
action with a kid around?
He thought ruefully how little action he had had in the past three
years. Guests were out, as a rule. Bad business. The help--likewise.
Most of the women employees were married, and all were Bahamian blacks.
He wasn't about to "go native" to that degree! So he usually hopped
over to Nassau when he had to get laid. Those excursions were rarely
rewarding. But then, how much can you say for a one night stand ever?
He'd just as soon jerk oft as fuck a woman he didn't give a damn about.
With Davie here before him now he realized how very much he did love
her, and how much of a void there had been in his life--how much larger
that void would be after she went back to New York.
Covering his thoughts with an understanding smile, he sorted the
subject with another question. "And how's your mother, Davie?"
The lovely teen sighed heavily. "Mother is mother--as always." Then
pausing, she admitted, "I hate her guts."
Knight was surprised by his daughter's frank and negative statement.
"Now, honey, you know you don't mean that!" he protested.
"I know I do mean it, Daddy," she insisted, looking at him steadily
with her innocent thick-lashed eyes. "She's a ... a bitch! A cold,
selfish bitch! Sometimes I wish--I know I shouldn't say this ...
Promise you won't tell--I wish she were dead!"
"Davie! Words like that are not very pretty coming from a young girl
like yourself. Besides, your mother is your mother, and you know she
loves you very much. She's trying to do what's best for you, darling."
Not for a moment did Peter Knight have the conviction off his words. He
knew Francine was a bitch; knew she was cold and calculating. He did
feel that she loved Davie--in her own way. But he also knew that his
selfish society wife never really wanted to have a child, that she had
always resented Davie--now, probably more than ever, since she was
becoming a beautiful young woman and therefore, a threat! Damn! He was
a rotten bastard himself for leaving his precious daughter with that--
bitch!
"Do you call what's best having me raised by nurse-maids and
housekeepers? Do you call what's best keeping boys away from me because
she's afraid I might do something to spoil her reputation? She doesn't
trust me, you know. Do you call what's best running around with airy
little fairies; having them in the house all the time; sleeping with
them?" Tears were beginning to well up in Davie's eyes. Her hand was
trembling. "She does, you know. My mother sleeps with homosexuals! I've
seen her!"
Peter Knight was shocked and outraged. He never expected to hear what
came from the lips of his naive young daughter. Rage began to burn in
his chest as he thought of Davie being sullied by witnessing her mother
in bed--and with a faggot! It made him feel nauseous. "You ... you saw
your mother with a man?"
"Oh, I wouldn't call him that! And it wasn't just one--there were two
of them ..." she sobbed.
"WHAT??? But ... but I ..." He was at a loss for words, unwilling to
voice the question. He didn't have to.
"One day I came home early from school. I had just gotten the curse and
had these terrible cramps, so I got to go home. The housekeeper was
out. I was on the way to my room and I heard all these noises coming
from Mother's bedroom; mostly men's voices, although there were other
sounds, too. It was so strange ... I couldn't imagine what was going
on, but it all seemed kind of violent. So I tiptoed down the hall. The
bedroom door was open, so I just sort of looked in.
She drew a deep breath. The tears were rolling down her cheeks and her
young body was shaking with emotion. "There were these two fairies on
the bed and they were ... doing it, the way they do it ... one behind
the other one. And the one in front ... well, there was my mother,
lying on her back, and her head was between his legs--the one in front-
-and she was ... she had his thing in her mouth and she was doing it to
him with her mouth!"
"You saw that? You saw that? Oh my God! Oh my poor darling girl!" he
said, rising from his chair and coming over to kneel beside her and hug
her to his broad chest. He was almost as overcome with emotion as she
was. She sobbed into his jacket and he stroked her silky hair, smelling
again the clean, untainted fragrance of wild grasses newly mown.
"Davie, my darling Davie, I'm so sorry, darling. So very, very sorry!"
he said to her, the anguish apparent in his voice.
She went on, compelled to complete the gruesome story, which had lain
on her chest like a millstone. She had kept her secret to herself, too
ashamed to tell her friends. There was no one she could confide in,
until now. "They didn't see me. The guys had their backs to the door.
And my mother well, naturally she couldn't see anyone but
that person. He's her decorator, Lewis. I didn't know the other one. I
ran to my room and stayed there the rest of the day. Oh Daddy, it was
so awful, so sick! And all this time, I can't even have a party at the
house with boys! I can't go to a dance or a movie or anything unless
there's a grownup along! Yet she sends me to this school, so she can
say, 'My daughter goes to this very proper, very fashionable lah-dee-
dah school for rich girls.' Hah! If she only knew what went on there!"
Now Peter Knight had another source of concern. "What are you taking
about, Davie?"
"Daddy, you wouldn't believe it. Practically all the girls smoke dope,
and some even push it! I've done it myself--smoked it a few times. They
call you a square if you don't. And some of my friends drink. Are you
shocked, Daddy, to find out that your little girl knows how to drink
and smoke dope? I don't really dig it that much. But I have to go along
with it. Otherwise I won't have any friends at all! But that's not the
worst. There are other things you'd be shocked, Daddy, you really would
be."
He was already as shocked as he ever expected to be. Now, her last
statement had hinted of a thing he couldn't bear to face. Not his
little girl. Not Davie. He gave her an incredulous and wounded look it
conveyed his thoughts.
"Don't worry, Daddy I'm not talking about boys--although there's a lot
of that with some of the girls. It's worse than that, in a way. Do you
know what I'm taking about?"
One apprehension exited only to be followed close on the heels by
another one. His mind was racing. He felt a terrible queasiness in the
pit of his stomach.
"You don't mean ...?" He couldn't say it.
"Slumber parties. I didn't want to go when I found out what was going
on--what was expected of me. But they gave me a really hard time.
Called me names and made fun of me. So I ... finally had to go along.
But I don't like myself for being weak. I guess in some ways, that
makes me just about as rotten a person as my mother ...
"No, Davie, no!" he defended. His jaw was clenched but there was
compassion in his eyes. Compassion, pain and great love. He blamed
himself for his daughter's debasement. If only he had stayed in New
York ... if only he hadn't run away to the solace of an island paradise
... But he knew all too well the futility of the 'if only" game--and it
was a game. Now his task was to rescue Davie from the sordid existence
her mother had exposed her to. Curse that bitch! He would see to it
that his precious daughter was freed from her mother's clutches if it
was the last thing he did--even if it meant selling French Leave and
moving to another part of the country ... or to another part of the
world!
But how? Davie was still a minor, and in her mother's custody. Yet he
knew perfectly well that if she wanted to live with him no judge in the
world would send a truant officer to drag her back to her mother.
Still, Francine was vindictive--hadn't she kept Davie from seeing him
for three long years? And she had money. Next to fear, money was The
Great Persuader. She might hound him to the ends of the earth, just to
make him suffer. What could he do that would keep Francine off his back
and Davie in his life for as long as she wanted, until she was ready to
go off on her own? He suddenly realized that he hadn't asked his
daughter if she would, in fact, like to remain with him. Unless she
did, his efforts would all be in vain.
He produced a handkerchief from his pocket and began to dab his
daughter's eyes very gently. God, she was lovely. It sickened him
afresh to recall the details of her mother's
perverted display. What the hell had gone haywire with Francine? He
always felt she preferred no sex to any kind of lovemaking at all! But
then, that was with him. How could she have turned on to faggots at
this stage in life!
"Davie ... sweetheart," he said softly. "Tell me something. I want you
to be completely honest, darling. Don't say anything you don't mean--
not even to spare my feelings. I've got to know the absolute truth,
OK?"
She looked at him so earnestly, so ingenuously that he was embarrassed
at having asked for her honesty. "Sure, Daddy I'll level with you," she
answered, managing a small but endearing smile.
"Darling, do you think you could be happy living with me--I mean,
living with me for a long, long time; not just these next ten days?"
She broke into an excited smile and threw her arms around his neck,
almost knocking him off balance as he kneeled on the floor. "Oh, Daddy,
do you mean it? Can I stay with you, forever? Oh yes! Yes, I want to be
with you, Daddy. I love you so much! You're the only person in the
whole world I love. Don't send me back there, Daddy. Please, please
don't make me go back!"
Peter Knight hugged his daughter tightly as he kissed her forehead, her
eyes, her cheeks. Nothing in the world could have made him happier at
that moment. "Don't worry, darling, I won't. It's all going to work
out, Davie. Everything's going to be fine--just fine!"
She drew back from him, a quizzical look on her beautiful face. "That's
funny ..."
"Funny?" He was puzzled.
"Yeah. Trish said the same thing ..."
Chapter 4
The day dawned predictably golden on the island of Eleuthera. Lavender
fingers of light were reaching up into the sky when Randy Ferris
cautiously opened the door of the bungalow he had shared with his
sister the night before and made his way to the red MG parked down the
road. He had to work today. But he would be back at French Leave
tonight ... in time to get acquainted with Davie Knight! Then, tomorrow
. . . tomorrow would be the beginning of a glorious weekend and--if
Trish knew what she was talking about--a glorious fuck with the
delectable virgin schoolgirl! Hell, it just might be the beginning of a
ten-day orgy with the kid! Trish's plan was risky--Knight was a tough
nut to crack. But if she pulled it off (and if anyone could pull it
off, she could) he'd be in cunt heaven in less than thirty-six hours!
His thoughts, and the delicious anticipation of the lay that lay in
store for him--oh, please!--gave him a huge erection on the way to the
car. Down, boy, he commanded the willful instrument, you'll get your
chance to dance ... in her pants!
In another part of the compound, Peter Knight awoke at his customary
time: 5:30 A.M., sporting a huge erection. He had been dreaming, and
his dreams were blurred but erotic. He had slept badly the night
before, tortured by the remembrance of what Davie had told him about
her mother and the shocking things that went on at school. But the
sordid expose had also led his sexual fantasies as he lay awake tossing
fitfully, his beleaguered mind giving him repetitive instant replays of
the conversation with his darling daughter. In moments of surcease he
was badgered with questions, and spent the rest of his insomniacal
moments trying to devise a scheme for successfully keeping Davie at his
side.
He tried to force the intruding fantasies from his mind, but they
persisted maddeningly. His pulse quickened and his breathing became
abbreviated. His mouth was dry and the tingling in his loins increased.
Goddammit! he swore under his breath, what's the matter with me? I'm a
civilized man, not an animal. I can't allow myself to get hot--not now.
Not with Davie in the next room!
He looked across the room and beyond, to the enclosed lanai where his
daughter lay asleep on the long, broad daybed that also served as a
couch. It was customarily adorned with huge, floppy cushions and was a
favorite place of his for reading or just having a drink and looking at
the beach and sea. Now his lovely daughter adorned it. She had kicked
off the light covers and was sprawled on her back, one arm above her
head and the opposing knee drawn up to her waist, exposing the crotch
of the pale blue nylon pajama panties that she wore under her
sleeveless, shortie gown. Even at a distance of fifteen feet, Knight
could see a few wisps of delicate dark pubic curls escaping from
beneath the elastic band. The saucy mounds of Davie's firm, young
breasts were well delineated by the supple fabric, too, and they rose
and fell as she breathed rhythmically during her deep and innocent
slumber.
He closed his eyes, trying to blink away the forbidden desire that
engulfed him. No! I can't think such thoughts! She's a child, an
innocent child. She's my daughter, for chrissakes! No!
He threw off the sheet and stumbled across the room, reaching for his
shorts as he clumsily made his way to the bathroom. He turned the knob
with a sweaty palm and darted in, closing the door softly behind him.
He leaned against it, panting now, clutching his underwear in his hand.
Sweat dripped from his brow and beaded in the crease at his waistline.
He shook his head like a fighter who's been decked, trying to rid
himself of his forbidden thoughts. God, he must be sick to think what
he thought ... his own daughter!
He gave a quiet moan and shakily raised his leg in an attempt to step
into his shorts. But he fell against the shower door and had to steady
himself. He reached inside and turned on the faucets. Then he tossed
his shorts on the floor and got into the shower, his penis larger and
harder than before. He had to have release.
Almost mindless with desire, Peter Knight planted his feet wide apart
on the cool the of the shower stall floor and let the warm fountain of
water cascade over his naked body as he took his granite-like cock in
his hand and began to stroke the hot, petal-soft skin lightly. His
other hand reached for his pendulous balls and cupped them. His mouth
was open and his breathing was coarse and spastic.
Responding to the pleasure sensations that were building in his loins,
he increased the tempo of his stroking and tightened his grip on his
enormous prick. The head was purple with lust, and the veins bulged on
the upthrust underside. Damn! It was a truncheon all right!
His balls grew taut, taking up the slack in his scrotum. His chest
heaved as his breathing grew snore labored. He kept increasing the pace
of his stroking. Faster and faster, harder and harder. God, it felt
good. He was getting closer and closer.
The little devils of desire led lurid and forbidden fantasies to him as
rapidly as he stroked his heated cock. They shoveled the fuel for his
tortured fire of incestuous lust ... faster and faster, harder and
harder ... until ...
His body stiffened and his muscles tensed perceptibly. His bare feet
gripped the tile floor as he gasped loudly. "Ahhhhharrrraaaannngghh!"
he cried and shoved the back of his free fist into his mouth to muffle
the sound that accompanied the release of semen from his balls.
"Ooooohhhhh!" he cried again as the fiery load of cum escaped from the
mouth of his glans in a creamy eruption of pent-up jism. He thought it
would never stop. He threw his head back and swayed like a sapling in a
strong wind until his balls gave out the last of their cargo and he was
free to take his fist from between his teeth.
He braced himself against the back of the stall then, heaving a heavy
sigh and allowing the descending jets of water to wash the last of his
foamy cum down the drain. The handsome man was suddenly seized with a
feeling of sadness. Sadness, longing, and anxiety. God, this is
terrible! I can't allow myself to lose control like this. I can't allow
those thoughts to overtake me. That would ruin everything for Davie and
me. I've got to keep things under control! I've simply got to!
He grabbed a pair of swim trunks and hastily pulled them on. Then he
went out of the bathroom and out of the house, jogging along the beach
for over a mile. Afterwards, he plunged into the tepid water and swam
far out to sea and back, asking the beneficent Caribbean to cleanse him
of his unholy thoughts.
It was 7:40 by the time he got back, and Davie was up and dressed and
preparing a simple breakfast of toast and dry cereal. The smell of
freshly brewed coffee wafted into his nostril.
"Daddy, you're back!" she cried, running up to him and grabbing him
around the neck in an uninhibited hug. She crushed her breasts against
his chest and planted harmless kisses on his cheeks--harmless by
intent, not by effect. The devils cackled within him, and he pulled
away from her so abruptly he noted a momentary look of bewilderment on
her fresh face.
"Good morning, sunshine. How did you sleep?" he asked cheerily.
"Super. Better than I can remember since the last time you tucked me in
bed when I was a little girl," she beamed. "It's so peaceful here, so
quiet and warm. No wonder you love it. So do I. I never want to leave
this place, Daddy."
"I knew you'd love it, sweetheart." He noted the table with the food
awaiting them. "My, doesn't that look attractive. And coffee, too. I
didn't know you could cook."
"I can't, really. It doesn't take brains to put cereal in a bowl," she
grinned.
"Sorry I don't have much food in the house, sweetie. I usually eat up
at the big dining room. They have great, gargantuan spreads for all the
meals. It's the one thing about French Leave your daddy can take total
credit for. All the other attractions have been thoughtfully provided
by Mother Nature."
Davie giggled. "You're just being modest, Daddy." She was relaxed and
carefree and obviously very happy. He couldn't let her down. He
wouldn't fail her this time ...
She noticed that his cup was half empty. Without waiting for him to
finish it, she got up and went to fetch the coffee pot, giving him an
unrestricted view at her long, lean legs and her high molded buttocks
that bounced ever so slightly as she gingerly walked over to the stove.
When she turned around, he could see her sculptured young bosom
standing proudly beneath the revealing pink and white striped
seersucker shorts. She was an adorable little girl ... his adorable
little girl. But an evil voice inside his head piped up. "Who are you
trying to kid, wiseguy? She's adorable, all right. But she sure as hell
isn't a little girl! She's a young woman--a beautiful, sexy young woman
... even if she is your daughter! Now what are you going to do about
it?"
Davie was straightening things up around the house after her father
left for the lodge when she heard a persistent knock on the door. She
looked up at the kitchen wall clock. 9:30. I wonder who that could be,
she thought.
It was Trish, in all her suntanned glory, wearing the briefest bikini
Davie had ever seen and carrying a large straw tote bag. Her eyes were
hidden under enormous glasses with smoky brown lenses. "Hi," she said
cheerily, "remember me?"
"Hi, Trish!" Davie answered enthusiastically. "Gee, you're up early.
You look smashing! Come on in."
"Well, where's that bikini you were telling me about? I thought you'd
be down at the beaching getting toasted by this time," the blonde
stewardess said through a full smile.
"It's only 9:30, Trish. I was just getting the place prepared for my
absence!" Davie grinned back at her.
"It's perfect right now. Looks like you just had a cleaning service in.
Let's go, huh? You've got a lot of sunning to do, you know. Right?"
"For sure! I won't be a minute," Davie said as she hurried into the
other room to change.
They walked a long way along the beach, away from the resort. The white
sand felt like sugar under Davie's feet. It was already quite warm.
Trish had a lunch for the two of them packed in her tote bag. She
explained that the resort provides them for its guests on advance
notice, so people won't have to come back to the dining room at midday,
if they don't wish to. And of course, she had no intention of breaking
up her day with Davie by appearing in the dining room during lunch,
where Peter Knight would see the two of them together and possibly take
a dim view of the situation. Of course, she intended to justify any
disapproval that might be forthcoming from that hard-to-get hunk of
man--and then some! But by the time he found out, he would be in no
position to protest!
Trish stole surreptitious glances at her young protege, noting with
growing relish that Davie was even more promising than she anticipated.
In her brief, crocheted bikini, the young girl was more enticing than
ever, her firmly rounded breasts plumped like pillows in the low-cut
bra top. Her skin was creamy and unmarred. It looked as soft as satin.
Her young buttocks were two mounds of softly muscled flesh, and she had
a trim, flat tummy and a perfect little navel that Trish wanted to
stick her tongue into. Of course, that wasn't the only thing she wanted
to stick her tongue in! She could imagine how sweet that little pussy
must taste, how fragrant it would be. Her own pussy was beginning to
twitch with desire, and she felt her clitoris swell and throb with
perverted longing for the teenager. The hardest thing she would have to
do that day would be play the lady, the sympathetic friend ... to keep
her hands off of Davie's body and her tongue out of Davie's cunt!
Geezus, what a test!
They found a secluded spot about three quarters of a mile down the
beach and spread their beach towels out on the warm sand. It was fairly
hot by this time, and Trish wasted no time in stripping off her bikini,
being as casual and offhanded about it as she could.
"I hope you don't mind, honey," she explained, "I just can't stand to
wear these things when I don't have to. Besides, I'm the vain type--
can't bear to have strap marks and patches of white."
"Sure, I know what you mean. Don't worry about it. You have a beautiful
tan, Trish. I can't stand the way I look next to you. I feel like Snow
White!"
"Well, then, join the club!" Trish coaxed. She said no more then but
lay on her stomach with her face turned away, giving Davie a chance to
decide on her own what to do. She smiled to herself when she heard the
sounds of a bikini being removed. She had to walk on glass, now. Every
word, every gesture had to be positioned just right.
It wasn't long before she stretched out a languid arm and reached into
her tote bag, fumbling for something inside. She soon produced a large
bottle of sun tan oil in an amber bottle. It had a French label.
"Here," she said, reaching behind her back, "use this stuff. It's the
best I've ever tried. It's got a tanning booster in it too, to turn you
a golden brown."
Davie took the bottle. "Don't you want to put some on, Trish?"
"After you, honey," the stewardess offered.
"I'll put it on your back, if you'd like me to," Davie said innocently.
"Hey, that would be great." She still hadn't turned around to look at
the young girl's naked body. She didn't dare just yet.
The teenager poured some of the liquid into her hand and placed it on
the blonde woman's warm back. As she rubbed it around the expanse of
flesh, she noticed her older friend beginning to squirm slightly on the
beach towel. "Don't be afraid to use it generously, honey," the woman
told her. "This island sun can be brutal, even in December."
Davie administered more of tile pleasant liquid to her friend's flesh,
which glistened with it under the sun's glare. Finally, Trish asked her
to stop.
"That's perfect. Thanks, honey. Now I'll do yours."
She rose up and turned on her elbow before Davie had a chance to lie
down on her stomach. The young girl was somewhat embarrassed to see her
older friend looking at her naked body--though she had certainly been
naked with some of her friends at school. Perhaps the memory those
occasions gave her more reason for embarrassment.
Quickly, Davie rolled over on her tummy, but not before her oversexed
companion had taken in her ripe, luscious breasts with the small, pert
nipples, and the soft pubic nest that marked the seat of her womanhood.
Controlling herself for the next several hours would he as great a
challenge as she faced in a long, long time.
Davie's skin was baby soft, and she had no excess fat anywhere, nor any
blemishes. Trish began the application of sun tan oil in a detached,
professional manner. But it wasn't long before her stroking became more
studied and she was caressing the girl's flesh with her hand. If Davie
noticed, she didn't react noticeably. She passively allowed the blonde
to apply it on her long, well-shaped legs, and to the backs of her
outstretched arms. Trish kneeled beside her and lightly pressed her
bent leg next to Davie's body. The stewardess was afraid to breathe,
lest her breathlessness give her away. Neither of them said much.
Finally, she gave Davie a playful whack on the rump--wishing instead
that she was kissing it with her lips and reaching between the ripe ass
cheeks with her finger--and said, "You're all set, except for the
front. I think you can get that yourself." She waited while Davie
turned over, glancing quickly again at her beautiful young breasts.
Then she handed her the bottle, accompanying the gesture with a warm
smile, and got up.
Later, she pulled a couple of magazines out of the straw bag and handed
one of them to Davie; the fashion magazine. Trish thumbed idly through
the VIVA copy, knowing that the sexy photographs of naked men and women
would arouse the teen's curiosity. It wasn't curiosity that was aroused
in Trish--it was her cunt. Lying in the hot sun, reading the frank
confessions from readers and the bold, permissive captions under the
glossy photographs of good looking naked studs and their girlfriends,
Trish found it impossible not to squeeze her thighs together so that
the lips of her pussy created a satisfying friction on her throbbing,
distended clit. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Davie stealing
furtive glances at the sexy spreads as she pretended to be engrossed in
photographs of stilted mannequins posing in high fashion getups that
were much too sophisticated for her age group.
"Well ... I'll be darned!" she said suddenly, as she turned to the
feature spread. "He's a dead ringer for Randy!"
Davie leaned over with great interest. "Let me see," she demanded.
Trish started to show the young girl, then withdrew the magazine,
pretending concern. "No, I really shouldn't show it to you. This rag is
not the sort of thing for innocent young eyes like yours, Davie."
"Don't be silly. I've read VIVA lots of times. There's always an issue
or two stashed in somebody's locker at school," she insisted. "I'm not
a little girl, you know."
Trish looked at her warily. "Of course you're not, Davie. I didn't mean
to offend you. I just thought that it might not be the proper thing to
do ... to show you. These photos leave nothing to the imagination," she
said, giving Davie a warm and knowing smile.
"Why do you think the kids at school buy them!"
Both females laughed then as Trish opened the magazine again to the
sexy shots. There was a photograph of a good looking young blonde man
straddling a full breasted oriental girl with shimmering black hair
down to her waist. He was feeding her grapes, and she had her tongue
outstretched and her back arched in a most provocative way as he
tantalized her with the dewy fruit. It was sexy as hell. The man's
muscles were highlighted and his hard buttocks glistened like the
hindquarters of a stallion.
"Isn't that amazing--if I didn't know better, I'd swear it was Randy!"
Trish enthused. "You saw him at the air field yesterday. Don't you
think my brother looks like this guy?"
"I didn't get a real good look, but I can see the resemblance," Davie
agreed, studying the photograph carefully. She was stirred by the
prurient picture. It set her imagination to work, which was the
intention of the editors--as well as the crafty blonde lying next to
her.
"Randy is a beautiful boy, even if he is my brother," Trish went on.
"Perfect build. He's a very physical kind of guy. Always doing
something athletic. He was a star on the game field at school." (And
he's a star in the bedroom, too, she felt like saying ... as you'll
soon find out, my sweet young lamb!)
Trish flipped the page. More shots of the handsome young man and his
Oriental chick. He was very well hung; a beautiful set of equipment.
God, he really did look like Randy ... right down to his cock and
balls. Trish wanted to lick the page. She wanted to suck her brother's
cock again. And she wanted to suck Davie Knight's beautiful pussy!
The sexy photographs were having the desired effect on the
impressionable teenager. She felt a forbidden stirring of desire in her
own loins as she devoured the blatant poses of the couple in various
acts of pretend lovemaking. She had never been with a boy before--
Mother had seen to that; though there were some close calls a couple of
times. French kissing and feeling a boy's hand on her covered breast.
But there had never been the right circumstances where she had the
privacy and the freedom to "go all the way." Still, she had gotten very
excited during those harmless encounters, feeling an embarrassing
wetness in her panties and something in her vagina that made her want
to have a boy's thing inside. Several of her girlfriends were no longer
virgins, and she had gotten an earful about some of their sessions with
boys It had excited her very much. But she also felt afraid.
Her thoughts turned to her father. What is he like with a woman, she
wondered. She substituted her father for the man in the photograph
momentarily, but her thoughts produced a feeling of guilt and anxiety
in her callow mind, and she quickly blanked them out.
Suddenly Trish asked her a question she didn't expect, "Have you ever
made love, Davie?"
The young girl's face grew crimson and she hung her head. "No, I've
never been with a guy," she answered quietly. Not with a guy! her
guilty thoughts reminded her. Only with other females!
"You're kind of young, I guess," said Trish. "No rush ... although I
was about your age--maybe a year younger--when I did it the first time.
I never realized anything could be so beautiful ...
"Was it really, Trish?" Davie asked eagerly. She was dying to hear
more. Desire for forbidden fruit was building rapidly in her young
body.
"Oh yes! So beautiful. Naturally, I was scared to death at first. But I
was lucky ... he was a few years older; about 19 or 20, I think. He'd
already had a lot of experience, so he knew what I was going through in
my head. He was very gentle."
"Didn't it hurt, Trish?" Davie inquired intently.
"Oh sure, at first. But then, pretty soon it felt so wonderful that the
pain went away and it was nothing but rainbows and lollipops from then
on."
"But how did you feel afterwards? I mean, didn't you feel guilty or
anything? Weren't you afraid that he'd lose respect for you?"
"Honey, I guess I'm the type who doesn't let guilt trips spoil my fun.
No, I can't honestly say that I felt any way except absolutely
marvelous and eager to be with him again. But that's just me. Everybody
has to march to his own drummer. My little drummer boy says, "Come and
get it!"
Davie laughed. They both did. But her mind was churning with a thousand
unresolved questions.
"Hey, don't mind me, Davie. I guess I really shouldn't be talking to
you like this woman to woman," Trish apologized.
"No, Trish, you're mistaken. I need to talk to another woman; someone
who's experienced and mature. I can't talk to my mother--no way! And my
friends at school, well, they're a bunch of braggarts and gossips. You
never know what to believe with them. Besides. I wasn't born
yesterday!"
Trish gave her young friend a wry smile. "Sure, honey. I understand.
You've got a friend in me, Davie--I hope you know that. So feel free to
let it all hang out!"
Chapter 5
When Davie didn't appear in the dining room at lunch time, Peter Knight
was seized with a strange feeling of apprehension, although he told
himself it was probably unwarranted. The sexy blonde stewardess was
also conspicuously absent, however, and a casual inquiry to Benny, his
maitre d', informed him that Miss Byers had requested a picnic lunch
for two. He decided to go in search of Davie. He just didn't feel right
about his guileless daughter spending too much time with the older
"Friend," who was not to be trusted, in his opinion.
He walked down to the beach and shielded his eyes against the invading
rays of light, looking to infinity in hotly directions. No sign of
Davie or the sensual blonde. He went to the woman's bungalow and
knocked politely. No answer. He tried the door, found it unlocked and
went in. The room had been made up and was noticeably void of
occupants. He left the bungalow and walked to the house. Again, no one.
For some reason, his concern was mounting. He tried to tell himself
that he was being an over protective old fuddy duddy, but the tension
in his stomach grew. Finally he climbed in the Porsche and headed along
one of the narrow dirt roads that paralleled the ribbon of white beach.
He stopped periodically, idling the Porsche and walking through the low
foliage on the dunes to scan the shimmering sand. Where the hell was
Davie?
He was just about to climb hack into the Porsche and head back in the
other direction when he caught sight of some movement in the bushes
about 500 feet away. A female stood up--God! It was Trish Byers, naked
as September Morn!
Instinctively, he squatted down and tried to hide himself until she had
resumed her supine position on the beach. She hadn't seen him. Christ!-
-that broad. He was certain Davie must he with her ... lying under the
sun with that scheming sexpot. Was she naked as well? He broke out in a
sweat, remembering Davie's candid admission of the night before:
"Slumber parties. I didn't want to go when I found out what was going
on--what was expected of me. But they gave me a really hard time.
Called me names and made fun of me. So I ... I finally had to go along
..."
No! Not my Davie! Not my precious little girl!
He turned off the ignition and left the Porsche in the middle of the
road. Then he walked stealthily to the cluster of foliage behind the
spot where Trish Byers had gone to the bathroom. It was a shallow
depression in the verdant dune. A dark, wet island in the alabaster
sand and a crumpled wet tissue provided confirmation. He avoided those
and crept silently to the elevated ledge of the dune.
What he saw blew his mind completely and made his eyes pop and his jaw
drop and his cock swell to hardness inside his crisp, tailored slacks!
Davie was there, all right! His beautiful daughter was lying on her
back on a bright striped beach towel and was totally naked! Her long,
slim legs were spread apart and her arms were outstretched and her eyes
were closed. Her incredibly beautiful young breasts stood upright from
her chest, the rosy little nipples like delicate raspberries. He drank
in the beauty of his daughter's flat abdomen and smooth, supple young
thighs, marveling at the perfection of her body.
Next to her knelt the stewardess, her woman's body another marvel of
enticing feminine pulchritude. Goddamn! She was the sexiest thing he
had ever seen, he had to admit. Big jugs, perfect mounds of edible
flesh whose nipples were large and hard as pencil erasers. Her hips
were high and angular, flaring just below her slim waist, and the dark
blonde pubic hair at the base of her smoothly rounded stomach glistened
with reflected light from the sun as it was trapped in the dewy drops
of perspiration that clung to the furry growth.
There was a salacious smile on the blonde's sophisticated face as she
poured a dark oil into her hand and leaned over Davie. No! She wasn't
going to put it on h s daughter's tender, naked body!
Oh, yes she was! And she did--beginning with the child's lovely young
throat and working her way across Davie's shapely shoulders and down
her arms. There was something too goddamned seductive about the way she
was doing it--much too seductive. He wanted to shout at her, to get up
and show himself and tell her to get lost. But he couldn't. His eyes
were riveted to the scene that was enfolding below him. And his cock
was rock hard; confronting them now was out of the question.
He noticed an empty wine bottle next to a large straw hat. Damn the
bitch--she's gotten Davie high! He knew all too well how fast wine goes
to the head on a hot afternoon!
Davie stretched her body languorously, a controlled reaction to he
disturbing sensations of pleasure that were coursing through her body.
Despite a feeling that she was getting into something she shouldn't
allow to happen, she couldn't help becoming excited by her older
friend's tender application of warm oil on her body. She felt a little
dizzy from the wine, and from the relentless sun. But it was so
wonderful to lie here and feel those gentle, knowledgeable hands on her
flesh. Trish was a wonderful friend, and so understanding ... Talking
to her was like talking to a therapist; she made no judgments, raised
no eyebrows ... not even when Davie confessed what had happened at
those slumber parties. Every kind of lovemaking is beautiful, Trish had
said, though there's nothing like a man. But pleasure is pleasure, and
why (deny your body any of the wonderful experiences that are possible
between two people ...?
Lying under the island sun, so far away from the dreary and depressing
life in New York City, Davie had to concede that what Trish said was
probably right.
The lustful blonde's blue eyes widened as she placed her oil-laden palm
on Davie's blossoming breasts and began to caress the tender flesh in
slow, thoughtful circles. Her lips curled into a self-satisfied smile
as the young nipples swelled to hardness under her ministrations. She
used both her hands to massage the firm mounds of sensitive flesh,
feeling her own cunt secreting the liquid of her desire in increasing
flow. Trish was almost trembling from pent-up arousal as she continued
stroking and massaging Davie's breasts gently, slowly ... ever so
gently and ever so slowly. She had promised herself that she would not
touch the teenager--today--but Davie's accounting of her lesbian
"slumber parties" was more than she could have hoped for. This kid has
had her cunt eaten before, and she's licked a few pussies herself. But
she's never been sucked by a pro like Trish Byers! she said to herself.
This is going to be easier than I thought ... God, oh God, this is
going to be the sweetest little cunt I've ever had!
The voluptuous blonde eased her fingers off Davie's upthrust breasts
and poured more oil into her hands. Then she resumed her caresses,
allowing her hands to slide down and across the smooth, flat belly and
over the sloping hips and down the sides of the excited girl's thighs
and calves, pressing her fingers between each of Davie's toes and
massaging her instep and arches.
Shit! Peter Knight swore silently, the hitch really knows her stuff.
She's going to turn Davie on for sure! He agonized over the lascivious
sight, wanting to interrupt and spare his lovely daughter the shameful
experience of being seduced by the sex-mad stewardess. But Davie would
die of embarrassment if she knew her loving father was spying on the
two of them. That would really give her cause for shame! She just might
decide she couldn't or didn't want to face him ever again, and he would
swallow sand before he took that risk. It was horrifying, but he had no
choice other than to lie low and pray to God he could get out of there
without being discovered. But as for the blonde pervert--he'd fix her
ass, all right!
Trish's hands were moving slowly up the dark-haired teenager's bare
legs now and Davie's flesh shone with the generous coating of sun tan
oil the stewie had applied.
"Doesn't it feel great, Davie?" she whispered to he naked teen. Her
voice was ragged with sexual excitement.
"Yes ... oh, yessss," Davie answered quietly. She squirmed on the towel
a bit, so that her thighs were even further apart. I know a man's hands
would feel better, but, whatdya gonna do?" she said with feigned
lightness. "There ain't nobody here but us chicks!"
Davie managed a weak smile.
The clever batch! Knight said to himself. She's not only out to seduce
Davie, she wants to turn her onto men, too! I'll cut her tits off!
Despite his anger and revulsion, he was becoming increasingly turned on
himself, and it was all he could do to keep his own hand away from his
aching cock. He couldn't understand it--ever since Davie had arrived he
had found himself giving in to the animal in him, a lusting beast he
had had, of necessity, to keep in a cage. Now the beast was roaring
from its cave, and louder all the time. That Trish has got to be the
hottest fuck around, he was thinking as she bent over his daughter and
let her skillful hands roam wantonly on the young girl's flesh. I'll
cut her tits off ... but maybe I'll get a taste of them first!
The blonde was poised over Knight's daughter now, her face dangerously
close to the sixteen year old's; her puffy, globular breasts only
inches from the upthrust schoolgirl's. Wordlessly, she reached for
Davie's hand and placed it on one of her fleshy, hanging mounds.
Davie's eyes flew open momentarily and she found herself looking up
into the smiling lips of the stewardess. "Don't worry, honey," the
blonde vamp reassured her, "There's nothing wrong with it. I just want
to make you feel good. That's what friends are for ..."
She was unable to control herself any longer, so great was her desire
for the tender pussy of her young initiate. Her own cunt was soaked
with the juices of her lust. This was the moment she had so patiently
waited for!
She leaned further towards tile young girl and touched her lips to
Davie's half-open mouth, letting her pointed pink tongue flick across
the warm softness. Davie moaned softly, knowing she shouldn't accept
the other woman's mouth, but she was too filled with needs of her own
to protest. The sun, the wine, the sexy photographs of the guy who
looked like Randy and the frank conversation with Trish had all
conspired to release her inhibitions and set her longing for
experiences she had long had secret fantasies about. At that moment,
she just wanted to cum ... to feel that feeling like no other sensation
in the world. And the perverted aspect of he association with a woman
who was eleven years older than she stoked the fires of her confused
desire. She didn't care whether it was wrong or not; she just wanted to
keep feeling the wonderful sensations that surged throughout her body.
Her arm came up, encircling Trish's neck. Peter Knight nearly fainted.
The blonde's tongue began to work insanely inside Davie's mouth as she
let her hand slide down the aroused girl's body until it came to rest
on the down pubic mound. She entwined her lacquered fingertips in the
soft, dark hair and began to tickle the flesh beneath it. Davie's
thighs parted further, giving the blonde seductress tacit permission to
continue her manual exploration. Which she did.
She parted the soft, wet labia and pressed a long finger gently into
the sticky cuntal crevice, causing Davie's clitoris to throb so hard
that Trish could feel the little pulse, like the heartbeat of a
frightened bird, against her excited slit. She pressed her full-blown
breasts into Davie's and ground them around and around, thrilling to
the delicious contact of breast on breast, and nipple against nipple.
She pushed her finger into Davie's vagina, and the girl let out an
involuntary gasp.
But she wasn't going to spot things for Randy. She had promised him a
cherry, and that's what he would get. She wanted a taste of the pie!
Trash left the girl's mouth and began to kiss the turgid, swollen
areolas of her sweetly tender breasts, evoking more gasps of excitement
from Davie. Then she scooted away slightly and threw her leg over
Davie's hips so that she was straddling the breathless teen. Their
pussies came in contact, and Trish began to rock back and forth, her
own cunt a volcano of desire. She let out a few moans of her own, but
she was bent on sucking that luscious little slit and not even the
fiery sensations produced by pussy-to-pussy contact could stay her from
her intended task. She could wait no longer.
Sliding backwards along Davie's thighs, she bent down over the girl's
oil-and-sweat slickened body and flicked her tongue into the small
crater of flesh that punctuated her abdomen. The dark-haired beauty
gasped.
"What a lovely little navel you have, Davie!" Trish said between pants.
"Tasty. Very tasty."
The young girl's hips began to undulate more freely on the towel. Soooo
nice ... Oh, how good it feels. So what if it's wrong? ... and maybe it
isn't alter all. It just feels sooooo good. I can't stop it ... I need
to cum so much ... Davie was dazedly thinking.
Peter Knight had some pretty dazed thoughts of his own. Oh, Davie, my
dearest darling girl ... what's happening to you? Why are you letting
it happen, sweetheart? It's wrong, what she's doing to you. You
shouldn't let a woman do that to your beautiful little body--that's a
man 's job ...
He was suddenly brought up short, realizing what he had just thought.
Good God, he was mentally advocating sexual relations between his
beloved daughter and a man! He didn't mean that. He couldn't mean that.
She was too young. It was too soon for her to know the pleasure a man
could give her. Yet, she knew what pleasure a woman could bring. Wasn't
that worse? Yes, that was perverted! Did he really want Davie to
continue her sexual experimentation with the opposite sex, though?
Hell, no! So what was she supposed to do ... nothing? It was a little
late for that.
Peter Knight was racked with confusion and torment--much of it coming
from his gonads. He couldn't deny that he was excited beyond belief by
the obscene spectacle between these two outstanding females, both with
incredible bodies. But one of them was his own daughter. If he had a
shred of decency, he would turn away from the sight ... hell, he would
have gone out the way he came in; like a guerrilla scout in enemy
territory--very, very quietly, and very, very fast! But he couldn't not
look. He had to watch, though he had a case of lover's nuts that would
break the Guinness Book of Records!
Trish's head hovered over the young girl's silky pubic mound and her
hot breath fanned the glistening curls that framed the rosy lips of the
teenage cunt. Her hands followed, moving from Davie's breasts down her
belly and coming to rest on her marble flanks. She used her thumbs to
gently part the trembling cunt lips, exposing Davie's clitoral button
to her wanton gaze. "What a beautiful little pussy you have, honey. Oh,
what a darling cunt!" Trish enthused, pausing for a moment to peer into
the delicate folds of tissue she hungered for. It was sweet torment,
this delay. But she was suddenly seized with unabridged desire and,
without further ceremony, buried her face into Davie's succulent cunt
and began to plant fervent kisses on the delicious flesh. Her tongue
was a hot poker as she squirmed lower on the sand to position herself
most effectively for the sucking feast she had begun.
Trish's tongue came in contact with the moist, hot clitoral bud and she
began to circle it tauntingly. In a reflex movement, her breath
escaping from between her teeth and her body consumed with raging
desire, Davie reached for the stewie's head and entwined her fingers in
the blonde tresses of her wanton seductress. Trish let her hands slide
upward again over the soft belly to Davie's firm breasts, cupping and
squeezing them greedily while she continued her oral assault on the
young girl's nether parts with her mouth and tongue.
"If Daddy could see her now!" Trish mused inwardly as she relished the
taste of Davie Knight's young cunt. She derived a spiteful satisfaction
from her prurient act, as well as a deeply pleasurable one. Peter
Knight was the one man she hadn't been able to fuck--as yet. He had to
play hard-to-get, with his formal, untouchable demeanor, as though his
cock was too good for the average woman. Most likely, it was! But she
was no average woman! And she intended to make damned sure he found
that out! Before she got through with him, he'd be begging to tuck her
pussy ...
She took Davie's throbbing clit between her teeth and nipped it gently
while she ran her tongue around the heated little orb in concentric
circles. Davie cried out and tightened her grip on the blonde's head as
she writhed and bucked on the beach towel from the waves of agonizing
pleasure being transmitted through her flesh. Her head was flailing
from side to side in total abandonment to the obscene act of tongue-
fucking that was being perpetrated on her by the sexy, older woman.
Trish opened her mouth still wider, moving her tongue downward along
the smooth furrow of the teen's slippery slit, wanting to devour
Davie's pussy; wanting to swallow it whole. She began to tongue fuck
her then, reaching as far into the secret hole of Davie's maiden vagina
as she could, delighting in the whimpering mewls of pleasure she was
evoking in the willing girl. If this was any indication of Davie's
capacity for turning on--and it certainly was--Randy would have smooth
sailing right up into her little channel! Really--there would be plenty
to go around for both of them!
Davie writhed and moaned from the incessant lickings and probings into
her moist, hot depths. The passion was mounting in her steadily, and
she knew she was very close to orgasm, very close to cumming right on
her friend's mouth! Maybe it was "dirty" ... but it sure felt
incredibly good.
She was straining and twisting on the towel and she couldn't keep
herself from verbalizing her desires. "Ohh, ooooh, Trish, you're
driving me crazy. It feels so good, so exciting when you lick me that
way. Suck it ... ohhhh suck iiiiittttt ..."
And the stewardess obliged, her tongue becoming a slimy piston as it
drove in and out of the teen's hot, clasping vagina. Davie was more
than she had expected--much more! She was so hot herself that she
couldn't keep her fingers out of her own cunt, and she substituted the
thumb of one hand for the thumb and forefinger of the other to keep
Davie's cunt lips apart while she reached down and made digital contact
with her own fiery pussy, stroking her clit very rapidly, the heat of
impending orgasm roaring like an inferno through her flesh as she
desperately sought her own release.
It wouldn't be long now, for either of them.
And Peter Knight knew that, as he continued to watch the entire erotic
display from his sheltered hiding place among the dense, bushy growth.
His balls were close to bursting. The pain was excruciating. Never in
his life had he seen anything to equal the excitement generated by
those two beautiful women on the beach. Yes--two women. For he knew he
couldn't pretend Davie was a little girl any longer. She was very
young, yes. But she had a woman's body and a woman's sexual responses.
How could he bear to have her live with him as his little girl when he
was witnessing her as a young and desirable--and desired--woman?
Daughter or not, a female, particularly one like Davie, would drive him
out of his mind. That was a thing he couldn't cope with. The
alternative to a filial relationship with Davie was too unnatural to
even consider for a moment. And yet, he a ready had considered it, in
his fantasies. Oh God, why did she have to come to French Leave at all!
It might have been better for both of them if she had simply stayed in
New York ...
His pretty daughter's cries of animal pleasure were becoming louder and
louder as the young woman continued to swirl and flick her tongue
around the velvet depths of Davie's pulsating vagina. Her firm buttocks
jerked and spasmed beneath the plunging tongue of the expert cunt
sucker. She was going to cum soon; the feeling was building and
building ...
Trish, her own brain a bubbling cauldron of lust, flailed her finger
faster and faster against her throbbing clitoris as she feverishly
plunged her tongue in and out of her young friend's pussy. Davie
writhed and squirmed beneath the insane licking and sucking until she
thought she would scream from sheer ecstasy. Every muscle in her body
was tensed, and her long, sable-colored hair swept the towel as she
flailed her head wildly from side to side. She ground her crotch up
into the blonde's lusting face as the waves of rapture began to rise,
then gather, then crest until ...
"Oooooh ... oooooohhhh ... I'm ... c uuuuu mmmm iiiii nnnng!" she
shouted through the hoarse gasps of pleasure. She broke out in
gooseflesh and rocked crazily on the beachtowel, her whole body a mass
of frayed electric cords that sent sizzling surges of ecstasy through
her. She drew the blonde head into her loins with all her might. Her
cunt juices inundated the stewie's face and tongue, flowing down along
the crease of Davie's trembling buttocks and pooling beneath her rectum
on the towel. Again and again she screamed out her delirium, and again
and again the invading tongue and lips brought her continued thrills. A
second later, Trish was screaming out her own orgasm and undulating on
the fine-grained sand, creating a human foxhole with her voluptuous,
climaxing body. Her oscillating finger sent wave after wave of orgasmic
pleasure through her body.
Peter Knight breathed into his hand to stifle the sound of his own
heated breathing, though the two climaxing females on the beach below
were hardly alert to sounds other than each other's cries. He felt
heartsick at what he had witnessed, but it was also the most unbearably
exciting spectacle he had ever witnessed. He suddenly remembered how
Francine had liked for him to go down on her. It was the one thing
sexual she did like, the bitch. And it was the one thing Davie and her
mother had in common, he thought ruefully. Then the devil voice spoke
again in his head: "Shrewd observation, Dr. Watson. Now, what are you
going to do about it? ..."
He forced himself to lie perfectly quiet until the girls dashed to the
water for a swim. Then he backed down the dune and headed for the
Porshe, his mind a blur and his balls a bloated bag of thwarted desire
that screamed for merciful release.
Chapter 6
Peter Knight hurried into his beach house and locked the door behind
him. He was sweating, and his temples throbbed. The ache in his groin
reminded him constantly of his manhood. The devils were dancing in his
head, playing cruel tricks on him, evoking wicked, disjointed thoughts
in his mind. He had to rest, to sleep, to get back his equilibrium
before Davie came home ...
He ripped off his clothes and flung them onto a chair. He fell into
bed, wincing as his hard, erect cock thudded on the mattress. He had
some unfinished business down there ... he couldn't stand the agony any
longer.
| Grabbing his long, beefy pole in his hand, he once more stroked his
enraged organ hotly until he came all over the bedsheet. It was only a
matter of seconds. Exhausted then, he knew he should get up and wash,
but his body refused to budge, and he fell fast asleep without
remembering the need to cover himself.
When Davie got home a couple of hours later, she was surprised to find
the door locked. She figured she must have done it without realizing
it. No problem. She remembered the door to the lanai--that would be
open for sure.
She wanted to shower and change and wash the salt water out of her hair
before she appeared at the lodge to see her father. Perhaps she wanted
to wash the scent of sex and another female body away, too ... The
hours she had spent with Trish were beginning to bother her. She wasn't
dazed with wine any more, and the reality of what she had participated
in with the blonde stewardess was beginning to weigh heavily on her
conscience. Oh God, what's happening to me? I'm not a lesbian ... I
don't want to do it with girls! I couldn't help myself, it felt so
good. But it's wrong. It's not the way I want things to be.
She opened the lanai door and stepped inside, a worried expression on
her young face. She could feel the first tautness that follows
overexposure to the sun, and she knew she had lain on the beach too
long for the first day. Yes ... she had lain too long on the beach for
a lot of reasons ...
She turned toward the small chest of drawers that held her clothing. An
unexpected groan caused her to look in the direction of her father's
bedroom. From where she was standing, she could see only his head and
his bare torso. He was sleeping heavily, his mouth open and emitting
soft but coarse sounds that bordered on snoring. Davie smiled as she
watched her father reposing on the big bed. She looked over at him with
pride, thinking how peaceful he seemed, how handsome he was. His chest
was broad and hairy; his muscles were well developed. He was a very
masculine man.
She thought she could get her things and tiptoe quietly past him
without awakening him, so she gathered her shampoo and creme rinse and
took another long dress out of the drawer and stepped through the
doorway into his bedroom.
An involuntary gasp escaped the young girl's throat as she found
herself looking at her father's totally nude, sleeping form. There he
was, sprawled on his back, his muscular legs spread apart, exposing the
full sight of his genitals to his daughter's widening eyes. His flaccid
penis was cradled in the hairy hammock of his enormous testicles.
Daddy's penis was huge! Davie was hypnotized by the sight of her
father's massive prick and his plump, hirsute testicles.
It 's so big! How could any woman possibly have a thing that big inside
of her? It would tear her to pieces! It must be over ten inches long
when it's ... when it's hard it's twice the size of those models' in
VIVA magazine! And theirs were pretty big ...
Davie felt a sudden dryness in her mouth and throat as she stared at
the naked, powerful body on the bed. She knew she couldn't continue to
stand there gaping at him. And she didn't dare take a shower for fear
of waking him up. He'd know she had seen him. So she carefully tiptoed
back to the lanai, replaced the clothing in the drawer and went out the
door. She hurried to the lodge and used the phone to call him up.
"Y-yes ..." a groggy voice answered.
"Hi, Daddy," she said brightly, "it's your sun-baked daughter. I think
I'm about medium rare."
"Davie! Where are you, sweetheart?" he asked, sitting up. He was
suddenly springing to alertness.
"Sheboygan, Wisconsin. Really, Daddy," she teased, "where do you think
I am? I'm at the reception desk."
He had difficulty marshaling his reason. All he could think of was
Davie being eaten by that vixen, Trish. "Well, eh, what are you doing
there, darling? I thought you were ... on the beach."
"I was. Now I'm here. I came to look for you because the door's locked,
so I figured you were at the lodge. Daddy, are you all right? I mean,
this conversation is ridiculous!" She said it with mock reproach, then
followed it with one of her girlish giggles.
"You're right, darling. It is. l didn't realize how heavily I slept.
Still trying to clear the cobwebs out of the attic. Why don't you come
along to the house?"
"Thanks, Daddy. I'm dying to take a shower. Bye." And she hung up,
leaving Peter Knight with a dial tone and a glazed expression on his
face.
Moments later he was covering the telltale stain on the sheet with
another sheet, then dashing to the door to unlock it, then scampering
into the shower for a necessary cleansing. By the time Davie reached
the house, he was out of the shower and half-dressed.
Davie was suspiciously cheerful, it seemed to him. Of course, he knew
what had happened between her and Trish Byers and he suspected--and
hoped--that his winsome offspring was feeling guilty about the whole
perverted episode. He was bothered as hell himself, and couldn't look
her squarely in the face, but he also couldn't take his eyes off her
nubile bikini-clad body.
She acted awkward and embarrassed, and he thought wistfully to himself
what a sad thing is the loss of innocence. He blamed himself once more
for what happened on the beach. He should have been there, to save
Davie from the sexual clutches of that rapacious female! Why was he
never there when she needed him? If he had stayed with her in New York,
none of this would have happened. But then, he didn't. All he cold do
now was make damned sure nothing like that ever happened to her again .
When she had showered and dressed in a most becoming long dress, Davie
joined her father in the living room. He was having a drink, and
offered her a coke on the rocks, which she smilingly accepted.
"Tell me about your day," he began. "Did you enjoy the beach?"
"Very much. It's so beautiful. I've never seen such white sand. And the
water is glorious. You can see all kinds of fish as plain as anything.
Like looking through a tinted window. I saw this one mean looking fish
with a lot of teeth. Trish said she thought it might be a barracuda, so
we got out of the water fast!"
"Trish? You went swimming with her, eh?" he asked, eyeing his daughter
carefully for giveaway expressions. But Davie was artfully cool. That
disturbed him, too.
"Oh yes. She came by this morning with a super lunch for the two of us-
-you have the best food here, Daddy. We walked way down the beach,
found a spot and just roasted ourselves all day. Of course, Trish could
take it. She does it all the time--sunbathing, you know. That's why she
has such a beautiful color. Look at me, I look like a half cooked
lobster!" She giggled at herself again, and Peter Knight returned the
grin. But inwardly he was agonizing. He couldn't blot the image of his
naked daughter on her back with her pussy in the blonde's face from his
mind. He couldn't shut out her cries as she lay there cumming, brought
to the peak of pleasure by that sex-starved woman who had acted as
Davie's ... lover! Trish was a dangerous influence on the
impressionable Davie. If she spent too much time alone with Trish, she
might become as venal as the stewardess. The bitch would have Davie in
a gang bang with all the guests at French Leave looking on. Christ,
what a thought! No, Davie was still pure, she was still innocent. She
didn't know what the hell she was doing today, or at school. They
forced it on her. Davie needed a man to straighten her out. Her soft,
young body, her lips, her ripe breasts and her beautiful pussy cried
for a man's caresses ... a man's body to complement hers ... a man's
cock to fill her precious little cunt ...
My God, what I am thinking!, it suddenly occurred to him. I'm thinking
of Davie as though I were her lover! As though she needed that! She
only belongs to me spiritually ... that's the only way I can have her.
That 's the only way that's right between a father and daughter. Any
other way is sick, degenerate ... as degenerate as what Trish did to
her today.
"Daddy, is anything wrong?" Davie suddenly asked him. He had been lost
in thought for several moments. He found himself staring vacantly into
his scotch glass. When he looked up at Davie, her eyes expressed
concern.
"Sorry, honey I'm still half asleep, I guess." He smiled at her
reassuringly. "Let's go have dinner at the lodge. I really should be on
hand most of the time."
A yachting party arrived during the dinner hour and Peter Knight had to
leave his daughter alone for several minutes, during which time Trish
Byers and her brother appeared in the dining room and got in line for
the sumptuous buffet spread. By the time the resort owner returned,
Trish and Randy had joined their table, a thing which did not please
Peter Knight in the least.
"Good evening, Miss Byers, Randy," he said politely, offering a curt
smile.
"I'd be so pleased if you called me Trish," the seductive blonde told
him, giving him a flashing smile. She looked stunning in a low-cut
white cotton dress that did little to hide her feminine assets. Her
feet were shod in the barest of high-heeled sandals, making her long
beautiful legs seem even longer. Her tan was deep and golden against
the electric whiteness of her dress. She oozed sensuality from every
pore. He was seething inside and he wanted to slap her half way across
tile dining room. He hated everything about her, except her face and
her voice and her body ... He was caught in a repulsion-attraction
syndrome--his reason repelled, but his being drawn to her like a
magnet.
Davie's thigh accidentally brushed against Randy's and she moved hers
away hastily, but not before the contact had produced a tiny electrical
charge in her loins. She couldn't help thinking of the pictures in
VIVA, and now that he was seated next to her at the dining table, she
found herself comparing him more and more to the guy in the photograph.
She speculated on the size of his penis, and wondered if it resembled
the man's in the magazine or that of her father. What would Randy be
like? What would it feel like to have his thing inside me? He's very
sexy, just like his sister, with those bedroom blue eyes and all that
soft blond hair. He does have a fantastic build ...
The young girl felt her face flush. It was already hot from the hours
of harsh sun. She couldn't look at Randy directly; there was something
about him that both frightened and intrigued her. He didn't talk much,
and seemed very shy himself. But she couldn't suppress a little shudder
when she thought again of his resemblance to the man in the
photographs.
They lingered over dinner, with Knight having to excuse himself at
intervals to attend to one kind of business or another. During his
absences, Trish focused her attention on Davie, giving her enigmatic
looks across the table. At Other moments, she did the same thing to her
brother. Davie felt there was something peculiar in their relationship.
Sometimes she seemed to be flirting with him! Once or twice, Randy
looked down at Davie from under his sleepy eyelids and she found
herself melting inside. And the liquid warmth manifested itself in her
panties! When Randy asked her if she'd like to go for a walk after
dinner, she readily agreed. Peter Knight had other ideas.
"I think it's getting close to your bedtime, young lady," he said, in a
very paternal way. To his surprise, Davie was angered.
"Really, Daddy! I'm not a child. Besides, it's not that late. I'm not a
baby!" she said, her voice tight and her eyes sparkling with
indignation.
"She's right, Peter," Trish added without solicitation. He gave her a
chilling look. "I'll make that decision, if it's all right with you,"
he said to her levelly. "Randy, why don't you escort Davie to the
house. I'll be along shortly."
"Sure. My pleasure, Mr. Knight," Randy said, rising to his feet. Davie
got up, too, and left the table without another word to her father. She
was embarrassed to tears, as only a sixteen year old girl can be.
Her anger, fanned by guilt and the confusion that resulted from her
turmoil and frustration brought sudden and unexpected tears to her eyes
as the two youngsters walked out into the refreshing night air. "Why
did he have to say that? He was talking to me like I was some kind of
two year old moron. He sounded just like my mother!" she protested
hotly.
Randy put a comforting arm around her shoulder. "Don't take it so hard,
Davie. Your old man's just looking out for your interest, that's all.
He doesn't want his little girl out with a big, bad wolf like Randy
Ferns!" (And with good reason, he added silently.)
She had to smile. She looked up at him and he gave her an endearing
grin. She thought he had the sexiest eyes she had ever seen.
They walked slowly on, and she began to feel more relaxed in his
company. He really was a nice boy. He was as understanding as Trish ...
They laughed a lot. He wasn't nearly as shy as she thought he was.
Maybe he was only shy in a crowd. At one point he casually took her
hand and she felt another surge of excitement go through her. Every now
and then, their bodies would brush against one another. The air was
cool and fragrant. Crickets chirruped and the sea gently slapped the
shore. Davie felt warm and contented to be with this understanding,
masculine boy ...
In another part of the compound, Peter Knight was declining an
invitation to 'come in for a nightcap.' "Thank you, Trish, but I'd
better get home."
"Why so soon? Afraid the boogie man is going to get your darling
daughter?" she taunted.
"Look," he said through clenched teeth, "my daughter is none of your
goddamned business! And as far as that goes, I'd be ever so grateful if
you left her the hell alone! A girl like Davie doesn't need a woman
like you as a friend!" He hadn't intended to loose his cool--Trish
Byers was a guest, though she wouldn't be a guest ever again! Still, he
prided himself on self-control; on maintaining an unruffled,
professional posture with both guests and help alike. He didn't want to
show his hand; the bitch just might tell Davie that her father had seen
them making love!
Trish felt her own anger bob. "How would you know?" she railed back at
him. "You haven't even seen her for three years! It just so happens,
Mr. Big, that Davie does need my friendship. Who else is she going to
talk woman to woman --YOU? Yes, I suppose she could ..."
That hit home. She had slashed at his manhood, and any residual control
that he had fled with the wafting island breeze. He reached past her,
opened the door and thrust her roughly inside. The light from the moon
illuminated the room enough so that he could see her striking features
clearly. He looked at her bright, sensuous mouth, remembering vividly
that it was the mouth that kissed Davie, that licked and sucked her
tender breasts, that ate her teenage pussy ...
He grabbed both her arms and held her in a viselike grip. He looked at
her long and hard. Her face was close to his as he breathed the words
out through his rigid jaw.
"You know what you are? You're a vile, low-class scheming bitch! Worse
than that--you're a cunt a real cunt!" (God, how he wanted to fuck her.
He wanted to tear her apart with his cock. He never wanted to fuck a
woman more in his life than he wanted to fuck this big-titted, sexy
blonde bitch!)
"Flattery will get you nowhere!" she snarled back at him, her lips
curled in a defiant pout.
"I don't want to get anywhere, cunt!" he growled back through clenched
teeth. "I wouldn't fuck you with a ten foot pole!"
"Braggart! You'd touch me with any kind of a pole--if you had one. But
obviously, you don't ..." She had him now, and she knew it. Peter
Knight smarted visibly from the gauntlet she had flung so cruelly
across his face. If that assault on his masculinity didn't get him to
drop his pants, nothing would. She looked up at him with disdain in her
big, blue eyes. She smiled a mocking little smile with dewy, half-
parted lips.
He could feel her hot breath on his flushed cheek, scalding him like
oil from a boiling cauldron. Her bare knee touched his trousered leg,
searing his flesh through the sharkskin. Oh Geezus, he had to fuck her!
He didn't care about Davie being home alone; he didn't care whether the
blonde bitch was a guest, or that he hated her guts; he didn't care
about anything! He only knew that the cum in his balls was being boiled
to a broth. He had to put the meat to this pagan, she-devil cant
standing so tauntingly before him, had to teach her a lesson she would
never forget ... with a fucking she would never forget! When he got
through with her, she would crawl back to Nassau!
He was dimly, very dimly aware that later, when it was all over, there
would be remorse and self-loathing. But at that moment, nothing else
mattered except funding the shit out of the so ft. warm, musky-smelling
evil woman who was only inches away from his throbbing, granite-hard
ten inch cock ...
Without another word, he pulled her to his body and kissed her brutally
on the mouth, pressing his teeth into her yielding lips and forcing his
tongue into her oral cavity. He tongued her mouth, and she answered
with hot caresses from her oral member. Suddenly, he bit it--hard,
causing her to cry out in a gagged scream of pain. He relished her
agony. Then he bit her lip, drawing a warm, salty trickle of blood from
the petal-soft flesh. Trish began to fight him, pummeling him with her
fists to try and push him away. But he was a pillar of stone, and she,
with her 120 pounds of female flesh, was hardly a match for the enraged
resort owner.
Peter reached behind her and unzipped the pristine white dress with one
deft yank of the zipper, drawing her in tightly to his loins as he did,
forcing his truncheon-like cock against her pubic bone as hard as he
could; grinding it into her in a way he knew was bruising. Trish
struggled against him, a look of fear and pain contorting her lovely
features. She saw the look of a madman, the frenzy of the rapist in his
blazing hazel eyes. Still, it excited her. She had wanted this man for
so long; she never figured him to show the balls he was showing. Of
course, she had goaded him into it; but she had expected to call the
shots. He was definitely out of her control. What was he going to do?
"You bitch ... you cunt ... you frigging whore ..." he kept muttering
over and over under his breath, as he reached up under her dress and
grabbed the sheer nylon panties she wore and ripped them down over her
satin hips, leaving them around her thighs like a ragged tourniquet.
She gasped under his harsh stripping as his clawing hands left angry
red tracks in her sun bronzed flesh. Then he shoved his middle finger
into her hotly steaming vagina, and she bucked from the suddenness of
his harsh and abrupt entry, even though her pussy was a cauldron of
desire, and the juices of lust lubricated her cuntal passage.
She started to groan as he finger fucked her deeply and she swayed on
her feet, her eyes closed. Seeing her reaction, he abruptly withdrew
his hand and wiped his finger across her supple mouth, saying, "Here,
slut, eat this! You like the taste of pussy, I'll bet; take it. Lick
it!" He worked his finger into her mouth as though it were a cock, and
slid it back and forth between her lips and around the inside of her
cheeks. His other hand was up under her dress, pinching her ripely
curved ass-cheeks as hard as he could.
Trish wanted to bite his finger, but she was afraid of what he would
do. This man was capable of anything now, she realized. God knows what
he might do to her if she retaliated. Besides, she liked the taste of
her pussy; it was a taste similar to the sweet, aromatic pussy of
Peter's teenage daughter. Hah! If only the bastard knew!
Yesss ... that was it! What better way to get even with the stuck up
son-of-a-bitch than to arrange for a little private "exhibition" ...
with the star performer being his darling little girl!
He suddenly brought both his hands up to her shoulders and pulled the
white dress down until it fastened like a straight jacket around her
body, just below her melon-like breasts, pinioning her arms to her
sides. The stewardess was unable to slip the dress either up or down,
and stood there, her face a mask of impotent rage.
"Get me out of this goddamn thing, you bastard!" she shouted out at
him. She drew up her foot and kicked him sharply on the shin. She
followed it with a knee to the groin.
Her aim wasn't true; he hardly felt it. But a devilish sneer appeared
on his lips. "Oh ... so you like to play rough, eh? Ok, hitch. We'll
play rough!"
He picked her up and slung her under his arm as though she were a store
mannequin. She was screaming and kicking her legs. He literally threw
her on the big bed, on her back, and tore the sandals off of her. Trish
was still straight-jacketed by the crumpled, constricting dress, which
had worked its way up to her hips, exposing her dark blonde mat of
pussy hair to his wanton, rapacious gaze. While she lay there kicking
and screaming, he ripped off her panties, then hastily removed his
jacket, shirt and trousers. He slipped off his loafers and socks and
peeled down his shorts.
Her eyes widened as she gazed at his naked, ten-inch rod of man-flesh,
the blood-engorged head purple with rage. His huge, hairy testicles
hung tautly between his sinewy thighs. He was a tower of virility
before the wide-eyed stewardess, who thought she had seen everything
there was to see in the bedroom--until now! He looked so powerful, so
cruel and menacing as he loomed above her, his handsome face grimacing
with vindictive lust.
"Like what you see, cunt?" he asked, reaching for his massive pole and
grasping it gingerly in his hand as if it were a baby club.
"Oh my God, Peter ... Oh my God!" was all she could say.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it? Isn't this what you've been after
all along ... every time you gave me one of your come-up-and-see-me-
sometime looks? Every time you wiggled your hot little ass at me, or
stuck those big round jugs under my nose? You wanted me to fuck you,
didn't you, slut? You wanted me to stick my cock up between those good-
looking legs of yours and fuck your hot little whore pussy, didn't you?
...
"I ... I ... yes ... YESSSSSS!" she cried out at him.
"Yes, what?" he taunted, a victorious sneer on his face. "What did you
want me to do? See, I have to be sure you really want me, because I'm
very insecure, and I might not be able to get a hard-on until you
reassure me ..." he said, sporting an erection that would do credit to
a prize bull!
"I ... I want you ... to ... fuck me," she breathed.
"How's that? I also have a hearing problem. You'll have to say it
louder."
"I want you to fuck me. FUCK ME, goddamnit!" she screamed, the veins in
her temples and the cords in her neck distending as she raised her head
off the bed to shout at him. "FUCK ME ... FUCK ME ... NOW!"
Chapter 7
"Do you think your dad will let me show you around the island
tomorrow?" the good-looking blond youth was saying to the pretty
brunette as they sat on the steps of her father's house.
"He'd better!" Davie answered. "I know I can talk him into it. I don't
know what was the matter with him tonight. He was acting funny all
evening," said the innocent teen. Randy's thigh was pressed lightly but
deliberately against her thigh. She was talking with great animation,
the excitement and anticipation in her fluttering tummy channeled into
her voice. She knew what both of them were thinking as they sat there
side by side in the seducing shadows.
"I'll come by around eleven tomorrow morning. OK? Bring your bathing
suit and a big jug of sun tan lotion!"
They both laughed then, and he put his arm around her shoulder in a
friendly way. But when she turned to him, they both stopped smiling,
and he looked deeply into her sparkling hazel eyes. Davie's heart was
pounding wildly in her chest. He gave her a slow, irresistible smile.
Then he leaned towards her and kissed her on the lips. It was a
harmless, non-committal kiss--at first! But they lingered at each
other's mouth's, and soon the kiss deepened, and Davie felt the boy's
warm, probing tongue snaking in between her lips. She thought it was
the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her; so much more
exciting than being kissed by another female. There just was no
comparison. She had never been kissed by a boy who kissed the way Randy
Ferris did. No boy had ever made her feel that way!
Her young pussy began to tingle, and she could feel the wetness as her
cunt juices began to flow and puddle in her panties. Her heart beat
wildly, and she found it hard to get enough air in her lungs. She was
suddenly afraid ... afraid of the sensations in her body. All she could
think of was the pictures in the magazine ... the naked man who had
Randy's face and body, and what he was doing to the naked, dark-haired
girl ...
Far fucking out! Randy thought as he kissed the luscious teen. This
kid's already getting worked up! What a sweet, sexy little piece of ass
she's going to be! Hell, she doesn't even know how sexy she is. If
Knight wasn't on his way back here, I'd put the make on her and fuck
her little ass off right now! But, easy, kid, easy does it. Trish said
"hands off!" until tomorrow ... and she's got it timed down to a rat's
eyelash. Got to win the kid's trust first. Got to make her think I'm a
harmless simple kind of dude who only wants to show her a good time ...
yeah, I'll show her a good time! Right in her virgin little pussy! A
real fucking good time!
Without explanation, Randy drew back suddenly. Davie's lips were still
parted. He looked into her eyes, giving her a serious, thoughtful and
penetrating stare from under his sleepy eyelids. She suppressed an
involuntary shudder.
"I'm sorry, Davie. I didn't mean to kiss you like that. Just lost my
head, I guess. You're the kind of woman that really turns a guy on ..."
He got up stiffly then, pretending to turn away in order to hide the
embarrassing bulge in his tight pants. But Davie's eyes went
instinctively to his groin, and her face grew hotter when she spied the
noticeable knot under his fly. It seemed that there was a wild thing
inside, straining to break free. She wanted it to ...
"See you tomorrow," he said, waving his hand to her as he sauntered
off.
"Right," she answered feebly. "G'night, Randy ..."
The sexy blond boy grinned in the moonlight as he walked down the road
towards his sister's bungalow. Wait 'till Trish gets a load of this!,
he thought smugly to himself. That Knight chick is as good as laid!
Once out of Davie's sight, he picked up his pace and strode briskly on,
anticipating the night in bed with his gorgeous sexpot sister,
confident that she would be alone when he returned to the bungalow. He
kept expecting to meet the stiff proprietor on the path.
He was totally unprepared for the sounds that drifted out the open
window from the sequestered one-room house--sounds which prompted him
to tiptoe quietly for the last six feet and peer cautiously inside,
after first looking around to check for possible "spies."
"Geezus Christ!" was the expletive that escaped involuntarily from
under his breath. There was Trish, her dress a wrinkled rag around her
arms and torso, tying spread-eagled on the bed, with the very naked,
very hard Peter Knight standing above her, holding his elephant cock in
his hand! Goddamn ... he's got a schwanz that must be a good ten-inches
long! Randy thought.
"I want you to fuck me. FUCK ME, goddamnit!" Trish screamed at him.
"FUCK ME ... FUCK ME ... NOW!"
Randy's mind was whirling. He was bowled over. The timing was all
wrong. This wasn't supposed to happen unto tomorrow--that's what Trish
had told him. But neither was her eating of Davie Knight's pussy--and
look what happened! It was all like a scene out of "Future Shock" ...
He suddenly saw an opportunity to accelerate his own cherry-popping
plans. Quickly, he turned and tiptoed away from the window and hurried
back to the Knight cottage ...
Davie had watched Randy until he disappeared around a clump of tall
bushes, his words echoing over and over in her young head: "You're the
kind of woman that really turns a guy on ..."
He called me a woman ... a woman!, she thought giddily to herself.
There could be no greater compliment for a breathless sixteen year old.
She added silently: And you're the kind of man that turns me on, Randy
Ferris!
The disturbing wetness in her panties increased, and she found herself
squeezing her thighs together to heighten the tingling sensations of
pleasure that were coursing through her pussy. A lurid fantasy of Trish
slavishly licking her cunt to orgasm pervaded her mind then, only to be
supplanted by a three dimensional enactment of the poses an the VIVA
photographs. She was hot! She had to do something! She only wished so
badly that Randy were there at that moment. She didn't care if he lost
respect for her, or what she felt afterwards. She only knew that her
body demanded satisfaction. She needed to cum!
Davie rushed into the house, her cheeks flaming and her whole sun-baked
body on fire with lust. She went straight to the lanai, puked off her
clothes and threw them on top of the big pillows on the floor and
scrambled into bed without putting on her pajamas. She crawled under
the sheet, perspiring heavily and trembling with desire.
The tingling sensation had magnified tenfold now and her breathing
became ragged and labored. Her fantasies became more vivid, bolder, and
the passion increased accordingly in her breasts and belly. Her body
ached for caresses: hands, lips, cocks! She reached under the sheet
with a feverish hand and grasped one of her button-like nipples,
crushing it between her fingers. A low moan escaped her parted lips,
and the ache in her virginal cunt increased.
Slowly, then, she began to massage her breasts; first one, then the
other, cupping the naked, sun-kissed mounds tenderly, then stroking
each nipple in turn. Whirlpools of passion seethed within her young
body. Her left hand remained at her taut, firm breasts stroking and
caressing them, while her right traveled slowly downward, over the
smooth, flat expanse of her heaving belly, then lower still, to the
glistening curls of her pubic mound. Her legs were spread wide apart,
and with trembling fingers, she spread her pussy lips, exposing the
throbbing clitoral bud which stood erect as a miniature phallus. She
thought of Trish, and the way the blonde woman had spread the quivering
lips of her pussy that afternoon before she put her mouth and tongue
right on Davie's sex mound. At this moment, she would have welcomed her
friend again. But she really wanted it to be Randy's mouth ... his
lips, his tongue. What would they be like? What would it feel like to
have his big, hard penis inside her vagina? Or her father's ...
God, no! How could she have such a fantasy ... even at the peak of her
arousal? What kind of perverted monster was she, anyway, to entertain
thoughts of her father's penis inside her? Wicked, shameful, that's
what it was!
Her mouth was open wide now, and she panted like a puppy as she slid
her middle finger along the fleece-lined furrow of her cunt, rubbing
the distended little button of lusting tissue as she moved down to the
warm wetness of her steaming furrow. The feeling generated by her
finger on her burning clit elicited a gasp of rapture from the young
beauty's throat as she rubbed and massaged the dewy nest with increased
ardor.
She could feel the climax building, building within her; filling her
body with excruciating delight. Her left hand continued to squeeze her
breast, and she raised her head to her chest, sticking out her tongue
as far as it would go, to lick at the inflamed nipple. She was on fire
as she had never been on fire before, chanting under her breath as she
rubbed the sensitive slit up and down, faster and faster and harder and
harder. Randy ... make me cum, Randy ... make me cum ... You're going
to make me cum, Randy ... You're going to make me ... CUUUUUMMMMM!
"Aaaaaaggghhh! Aaaarrrgghh!" she cried out in a harsh, gasping whisper
as her body shook with orgasmic release. Over and over she spasmed, and
she kept rubbing her finger across her sensitized clit to intensify the
bursting rockets of release within her, all the time massaging her
pliant, longing breasts. Her climax seemed to last for a rapturous
eternity before the delicious sensations began to ebb. Then finally it
was over, and she took her hand from her young pussy and wiped her
finger on the sheet. She lay flat on her back, her eyes closed, her
body weak and drained and tingling with the afterglow of rapture.
An unexpected knock on the door sent a stab of terror through her and
caused her limpid eyes to fly open. She sucked in her breath. Someone
was outside.
"Davie! Davie, are you awake? I have to talk to you!" the voice called
to her. It was Randy! Why??? Why had he come back? Her father would be
here any minute, and he would be blazing mad if he found Randy still
here!
Her mind a blur, she threw back the sheet and sprang to her feet, her
balance unsteady from the rocking orgasm. She looked for a robe or
something to put on. Then she spotted her dress. She climbed into it
hastily and zipped it up, without bothering to put on shoes or panties.
She fluffed her silky, sable-colored hair with her fingers as she
hurried to the door.
Randy stood there out of breath, a strange expression on his face. "I'm
sorry to bother you again Davie," he said, "but I ... I didn't know
what else to do. Could I ... would it be all right if I came in for a
few minutes?"
"I don't understand, Randy. What's the matter? I mean, it's OK with me
if you come in, but my daddy's going to be here any minute, and that
could spoil things for tomorrow if he finds you're still here."
Something in his expression alarmed her. She felt an unexplainable knot
of dread. She also felt terribly embarrassed, having just finished
masturbating her way to orgasm with his name on her lips. She was
afraid he might be able to read her thoughts.
Randy sighed heavily, then he gave her a quiet grin before he resumed
his concerned, serious mien.
"I don't think your daddy's going to be here for a while. In fact, he
won't be here for a long, long time."
"Why? What's happened to him?" Davie asked urgently, her large hazel
eyes growing wide with fear.
"My sister's happened to him, that's what. They're together ... at her
place."
"So? You mean they're having a drink together or something?"
"Or something. You know what I mean, Davie. Your dad and my sister
they're ... making love." He wanted to say, They're fucking! But he
didn't dare--yet.
Davie Knight was crestfallen. But another part of her was excited by
the image of her strong, virile father with his penis inside Trish
Byers. She would give anything to see that and yet, she was afraid to.
Somehow her father was holy he was a god. Gods just didn't do things
like ordinary people do. Or did they? ...
"You're putting me on, Randy. How would you know that? I'm sure they're
not going to invite you in to watch!" she said indignantly. If it were
true, she resented Randy's intrusion on the intimate scene.
"Oh yeah? Well it just so happens that I was going over to Trish's to
tell her goodnight, and I heard all this noise coming from her room.
There weren't any lights on, so I went over to the window and looked
in. I'm not about to tell you what I saw, Davie. You're a little too
innocent to hear those things ..."
"You said I was a woman!" she blurted out. "Besides I still don't
believe you. You're playing a mean trick on me, I bet!"
"Trick, huh?" he said, eyeing her smugly. "Give me your hand."
"My hand? What?" she asked uncomprehendingly.
"Come on, baby. You asked for it. But don't say I didn't warn you!" And
he took her by the hand and led her quickly to his sister's bungalow,
where ...
Peter Knight's mouth was fastened on one of the blonde woman's
pneumatic breasts, and he was rolling it around and around on her chest
with the broad, wet blade of his tongue! The stewardess was squirming
on the bed, her legs churning against the naked man who lay half atop
her. Their bodies glistened in the moonlight, which was bright as a
light bulb in the room. Trish had something around her arms and under
her breasts, like a bandage. It was her white dress--a crumpled swatch
of fabric not more than five-inches wide! She was bound with her own
dress!
Davie's knees buckled slightly and she sagged against her blond
companion, her eyes like saucer-like and her mouth agape. She was about
to let out a cry of protest when Randy's warm hand came from behind and
muffled the imminent shriek before it was voiced.
"Oooooh ... yesssss! Oh God, lover! Fuck me now!" Trish cried aloud.
Then, "Ooooowwwwwww! Aaaahhh! Don't hurt me like that!" Peter Knight's
teeth flashed in the moonlight as he bit into the tender, succulent
flesh. Trish's face was contorted with pain. Davie couldn't understand
why her daddy would be so mean to Trish. Is that the way people make
love? Did Trish really like it like that? She sure didn't seem to,
judging from the look on her face! Oh, it was all so sickening, so
gross. She felt nauseous, but she couldn't take her eyes off the pair
on the bed.
"Yes, baby. I'm going to fuck you all right. I'm going to fuck you like
you've never been fucked before. You wanted it--now see how you like
this!" Davie's daddy said, as he drew back from the stewardess and rose
to his knees. It was then that Davie saw his penis fully erect ... it
was huge! It was even bigger than she expected it to be! Was he really
going to be able to get that thing inside Trish's vagina?
Noooo. Not in her vagina. The enraged resort owner had no intention of
shoving his cock inside the captive bitch's vagina--he was going to ram
it into her asshole!
He climbed between her legs and kneeled upright, poised before his
conquest. He'd show the bitch--she'd think twice before she ever begged
somebody to fuck her again!
There was breathless anticipation on the blonde wanton's face--at last
she was to feel Peter Knight's huge cock in her scalding pussy. She
gave him a provocative smile and stretched her legs further apart and
arched her back in open invitation to the virile man. Outside the
window, Randy had a huge erection of his own from watching the
lascivious, exciting scene on the bed. He drew young Davie slightly
closer to him, so that the tip of his protruding cock was just touching
her firm, ripe ass cheek. He wanted to hoist up her dress and plug her
right then! She shifted her weight slightly, so that she was somehow
just a little bit closer ... He had one hand over her mouth and the
other around her tiny waist.
The handsome, well-muscled man on the bed reached under the writhing
stewardess with both hands and pulled her body close to him. He was
kneeling on his haunches now, his muscular thighs forming a vee on the
bed. He raised her ass high in the air until her legs dangled near his
shoulders and she was almost standing on her head, a position which
gave the two young voyeurs outside an unobstructed new of her nether
parts.
Davie flushed crimson with embarrassment. Here she was, standing
against a boy she hardly knew, watching her father and Trish in the
most blatant throes of love-making ... violent sex, that's what it was.
She wanted to run away, to crawl in a hole and never we any of them
again. How could she face her father, or Trish? How could she bear to
look at Randy? ...
His hand was circling his throbbing penis, guiding it closer and closer
towards the moist lips of her surging pussy ... parting the fleecy cunt
hair with the blood-engorged head. Suddenly, he flexed his hips and
drove his mighty organ deep up into the hot, gaping mouth of her hungry
cunt with a flesh-tearing thrust that hammered his balls against the
naked and defenseless flesh of Trish's upturned buttocks.
"Uuuuuaaaahhhhhh!" she screamed beneath him. The elastic sheath
consumed his fleshy rod as it raced to the full length of her belly and
rammed hard against her cervix.
"Ooooohhh!" she howled again. "Aaaaahhh, that's it, lover ... that's
the way to give it to me ... that's the way to fuuuuuuccckk!"
You're not going to give me any lessons, bitch!, he thought angrily.
For a moment he was caught up in the caressing sheath of her slippery
pussy, and he was tempted to forget his vendetta and fuck her to a
fare-thee-well just like that. It felt so goddamm fabulous! But maybe
later later he could fuck her pussy; after she had sucked his cock ...
which would be after he fucked her in the ass!
Davie had seen enough. My father... and Trish ... oh God, they're ...
they're ... doing it ... like animals ... both of them naked and
thrashing around on that bed, his thing all hard and wet and jammed far
up inside her belly. She must have a pretty big pussy to be able to
take all that. Noooo ... it's too much ... I don't want that to happen
to me ... noooo!
Her mind rolling, her stomach churning with queasiness, Davie struggled
in blind panic and freed herself from Randy's captive grip. She had to
get away, had to run from that vile scene, from that sinful,
animalistic display! How could I have ever thought I wanted something
like that to happen to me? Oh God, nooooo ... please dear God, don't
let anything like that happen to me--ever!
The tormented girl broke out in a dead run for her father's house. Fear
and anguish sent adrenaline coursing through her veins, and she ran
like the wind to get back to the safety, the privacy of her own bed.
Randy followed, maintaining a brisk pace to keep her in his sights and
yet, staying far enough away not to alarm her further. Shit!, he swore
to himself. The goddamn thing's backfired. Scared the begeezas out of
her! Now I'm going to have a helluva time getting into her box! I'll
have to walk on water to get into her pants tonight!
Back in the bungalow used by the curvaceous blonde guest at Peter
Knight's resort, the two sweating figures on the bed were caught m the
throes of a grudge fuck, with Trish Byers coming out the worst. Her
vindictive, dark-haired lover had abruptly withdrawn his rigid cock
from the warm closing depths of her hungry pussy, much to the blonde's
bewilderment and frustration, and was again kneeling before her wide-
spread, flailing legs, a sadistic leer on his normally handsome face.
The woman's blue eyes were wide with apprehension.
He grasped her legs under the knees and yanked her up even higher, so
that her head was twisted and her chin lay uncomfortably on her collar
bone. He scooted forward, throwing her long, willowy legs back until
she was completely jackknifed, her knees hovering on either side of her
head. "Oooowww. Not like this, Peter. Not like this!" she cried, but he
held her legs in place while he used his cock as a probe to find the
puckered little entrance to her rectum. The crevice had a rivulet of
perspiration trapped there, and he bathed the tip of his prick in the
salty moisture, stirring it around the brown nether entrance with his
cockhead. Without warning, he thrust forward, splitting the resistant
sphincter ring with his massive cock. Trish screamed out in pain.
"Aaaaawwwww! Nooooo! It hurts! IT HURTS!"
Fired by her cries and brazen in his vengeance, Knight pressed further
into the tight elasticity of her nether passage.
A searing shaft of pain accompanied his brutal penetration. The lovely
blonde cried out again, and tears filled her eyes. She begged him to
stop. But to no avail.
He thrust again, imbedding his steely pole even further into her
tortured anus. She writhed and squirmed and tried to get out from under
her assailant, but she was helplessly pinned to the bed, and her
contortions only succeeded in driving his cock further into her ravaged
ass. She felt as though she were being disemboweled by a flaming spear.
Her whole body trembled with pain and she cursed him aloud for his
brutality. "I'll get you for this, you son-of-a-bitch! I'll get you!
Bastard! Goddamned fucking bastard!" she railed at him over and over
again. But with each epithet she shrieked, the frenzied resort owner
rammed deeper and harder into her tortured anal passage, until there
was no where left to go but out.
He rested for a moment, flexing his cock inside her, eliciting more
cries of pain from the switch hitting stewie. Then slowly, ever so
slowly, he put it in reverse and began to pull out, until only the
bloated head was lodged inside her stretched anus. He reached forward
to grab her beefy breasts with his hands, massaging them roughly;
pinching the nipples hard between his fingers. She groaned under his
manipulations, her body racked with trembling. He was paying her back--
punishing her for what she had done to his beautiful, innocent little
girl. He was settling a score for Davie ...
He thrust forward again, burying his cock up to the hilt in Trish
Byer's tight and tortured asshole, until his balls smacked lewdly
against her upturned ass cheeks, evoking another banshee cry of pain
from the stewardess. Then he began a determined sawing motion with his
fully inflated, lusting cock, feeling the pressure building and
building in his bails. He had to cum soo. He had to, had to! If he
didn't fill her ass with his fiery seed soon, he was going to go out of
his frigging mind! Oh, oh, oh he had to cum!
I have to cum ... have to cum ... have to ... he chanted wordlessly as
he fucked deep and hard into the tight, hot and harassed rectal
passage. Take that, bitch ... and that, Francine ... his mind screamed,
as he thought of his cold ex-wife and her emasculating indifference to
his needs. Take that!, he shouted silently, as he envisioned her
blowing the fairy who was being sodomized by his faggot lover. There's
only one ... only one ... pure (thrust) beautiful (thrust) loving
(thrust) desirable (thrust) woman (thrust) Davie (thrust) ... Davie
(thrust) ... DAVIE!
The hot, sticky load began its frenzied rush from his bloated scrotum
along the fiery tube of his cock. He began to spew hot, thin streams
into the blonde's clasping asshole in a raging torment, emptying his
frothy payload deep, deep up into the tortured inner depths of her
violated rectum.
"Aaaaaggghh, fuck it, baby, fuck it haaaaarrrrrddd!" the stewardess was
screaming at him as she lay writhing on the bed, her legs jackknifed
against her breasts and her crotch fully expanded for his pleasure. Her
eyes were rolling in her head, and her face was contorted with lust and
pain as she desperately sought her own release.
No! Oh no you don't, bitch!, he said to himself when his blurry thought
congealed. He pulled his stud hard cock out of her anus as if it were a
greased pig. The suction noises were embarrassing. His cockhead traded
stringy, mucous-like strands of semen as he hovered over her and pulled
her legs down on the bed. Her face was tear-stained and black mascara
smudged her cheeks. Her lipstick was smeared across her face. She
looked anything but the cool, confident seductress who had goaded him
into fucking her. He felt a wave of pity for her then; she was so
vulnerable, so totally demoralized. God, how he despised her!
She whimpered at him pathetically. "Please, Peter, please don't hurt me
anymore. Let me love you, honey. Let me show you what kind of woman I
can be for you ..."
"Of course, sweetie. Of course I'm going to let you show me ... right
now ... right this moment, my dear ..."
His voice was calm and quiet. He smiled warmly at her--too warmly. He
reached up to her and began to ease the constricting dress down her
arms. It wasn't easy. Finally, he rolled it down around her hips, so
that her arms were free. It was a simple matter to get it off her after
that.
There were red marks on her arms where the cloth had bound her limbs.
He took each arm in turn, and rubbed it vigorously, evoking a grateful
smile from the unsuspecting vamp. Then he began to kiss her breasts
again, only lightly, tenderly now. He raised each of his legs and
pushed hers together between them. Then he walked on his knees up the
bed, until his half-hard cock was only inches from her mouth.
"Now, Trish. Love me now. Love my cock. Take my cock into your mouth,
sweetie, and lick off every drop of cum ... And if you love me well, if
you're really a good little cock sucker, I'll let you love me with your
pussy. I'll let you suck out some more of my cum with your hot, hungry
cunt!"
Chapter 8
Davie had flung herself across the bed and was sobbing as the scheming,
incestuous brother of her so-called "friend" kneeled beside her on the
floor, a comforting hand on her back.
"That's right, Davie, let it all out. Just cry away--everything you saw
going on in that room. Let that whole scene between my sister and your
dad wash right out of your eyes," he told her tenderly, cunningly.
The distraught young girl cried even harder, her pitiful sobs filling
the darkened bedroom. She felt lost, empty, and she didn't know where
to turn. Her father ... the one person in the world she loved and
respected ... lying there naked on the bed rutting with a woman she
thought was a trusted friend ... the same woman who had ... been with
her at the beach today ... Oh God, oh God! The whole world was crashing
down around her! She thought everything would be all right once she got
to Eleuthera. Isn't that what Trish said? Isn't that what her father
had said: "Everything's going to work out fine . . just fine!" Yes ...
for them!
Now Randy was her only friend. She had been betrayed by her father and
Trish ... and yet, they were doing something that's perfectly natural;
something all grownups do ... they wouldn't have done it in front of
her. Still, she had always thought of sex as something good and clean,
something you did with someone you really loved--not just the slapping
together of bodies ... She was so confused. If only she hadn't seen
them together ... if only she hadn't seen her mother with those two
disgusting fairies ... if only she hadn't let Trish lick her between
the legs this afternoon ... It was all too much, too fast. She didn't
really hate her father, and she didn't really hate Trish, either; but
something was lost, gone forever ... Something had changed in her
attitude toward the man who had sired her, and toward the woman who she
thought was her friend--and she didn't know what it was. It only filled
her with an unutterable sadness. She felt like a little girl lost.
The tears gushed freely until her lovely eyes stung and she felt her
nose was a red balloon. She was only dimly aware that Randy was
whispering consoling words in her ear; that he was stroking her dark
hair and rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. His voice was hypnotic, his
touch, reassuring.
"... and just forget it, Davie. Forget that they were naked on that bed
... forget that they were all turned on and saying things ... all those
dirty words. Don't think about how they must have felt ... what it must
have been like for them on that bed ... no, honey, just put all that
out of your mind ..."
Put it out of her mind. That's what she had to do, of course. That is
what she would do. She'd put those pictures out of her mind, too ...
the ones in VIVA ... Randy and that Oriental girl ... No!, not Randy
... somebody else ...
Randy got up and sat on the edge of the bed. Her face was turned away
from him and he kept stroking her hair and whispering comforting words,
over and over ... Then he stroked her shoulder again, and her soft,
bare arm. His hand was warm; his touch was delicate, deft. It felt so
good to be caressed by this handsome, understanding boy who was her
only friend now. He was right, she mustn't think about what she saw a
little while ago in Trish's bungalow; she mustn't let that image remain
vividly implanted on her brain ...
"Don't, Davie ... don't think about it anymore ..." he said as he
gently took her shoulder in his hand and turned her over on her back.
He brushed some wispy strands of hair away from her fevered face and
smiled at her tenderly. He knew that his words were having the desired
effect on her now; she was thinking about her father and Trish, of
course, just as he had hoped she would. It's going to work after all,
he thought exultantly. I'm going to score with this tight little cherry
tonight!
Davie looked up into his strong, handsome face. His words seemed to
flow like molasses into her ears. She was fully aware that he was
telling her not to think of what she had witnessed, but the vision
became fixed in her mind instead. In fact, the more he droned on, the
more he stroked her hair and her arms and talked to her in his
soporific way, the more clarified became the scene in her mind. She
didn't want to think about it, but she couldn't put it out of her
consciousness, she just couldn't.
And strangely enough, the images in the lovely teen's brain were
beginning to have a certain physical effect on her innocent flesh as
well. She could feel a strange, twitching sensation deep in her belly;
the same kind of sensation she had felt when Randy kissed her on the
steps. She suddenly felt like being kissed again, and she must have
communicated this to the hot-blooded youth, for he slowly leaned over
her and pressed his lips to hers again, not French kissing her this
time, but just kissing her softly and tenderly and very, very
excitingly.
She began to tremble slightly under the pressure of his chest against
her body, not from shock or weeping now, but from something far more
basic, something that was the captive woman inside yearning to break
free ...
Randy felt the young girl trembling beneath his embrace and he smiled
inwardly. She's almost ready ... almost. Easy does it, fella. This is
the crucial moment, right now. Just a little bit more and you'll be
home free!
He let his face rest on hers while he continued to stroke her hair and
brush it away from her fevered face until finally, he let his hand move
down, down ever so slowly and gently onto the swelling mound of her
nubile young breast. She was breathing faster now, and so was he, as he
continued to implant the image of her father's sexual escapade with his
lucious, naked sister in her confused young mind.
He began to rub the pliant globe tenderly and lightly and he felt her
stiffen at his touch. But she made no initial effort to push his hand
away. He smiled to himself, confident that he had won the first round.
He kept caressing her breast, running his thumb across the hardened
little nipple, his heart pounding in his chest and his cock leaping
like a wild bronco in his pants.
Suddenly, a red light flashed in Davie Knight's brain, warning her to
stop this gentle boy's caresses, warning her to stop before it was too
late, before her own body betrayed her and she was suddenly swept away
in a flooding tide of passion. Yes, she had to stop him ... stop him
from feeling up her breast, even though it felt soooo good, so warm and
wonderful. The sensations in her body were already beckoning her on ...
on into the dark and terrifying unknown. They were sounding a siren
call to her most primitive and latent grownup desires ...
"No! No, Randy! Stop!" she cried, pulling his hand away and rolling
away from his into an upright, sitting position, her back to him and
her head buried in her hands. She was a living, breathing conundrum of
confused desire.
The lust-ridden youth was taken completely by surprise. He had been
strongly confident that she was totally his now. He gaped at her for a
moment, then reached out and grabbed her, pulling her back into the
fold of his arms. "Take it easy, Davie," he panted, "it's all right.
Everything's just fine ..."
Now he was saying it, too! Why was everything "just fine" for everyone
else except her? Nothing was "just fine" ...
She tried to resist him. "No, you shouldn't touch me like that ... you
know you shouldn't; not after what we just saw. It's wrong."
"What's wrong about it, Davie?" he asked desperately, feeling his
conquest slipping irretrievably from him. "It's not wrong--it's right,
don't you see that, Davie? It's right because you're a woman now,
Davie, a woman--with a woman's body and a woman's needs. You're ready
to fulfill that womanhood ... you're ready to give in to your emotions,
Davie ... to let that woman inside of you free ...
"Like Trish does ... if that's the kind of woman I'm supposed to be--a
bitch in heat!"
"You'll be fortunate--very fortunate--if you ever come half way close
to being the woman Trish is!" he flung back hotly. Then he cursed
himself for being so rash. "What I mean, Davie, is that ..." He drew a
long breath. Shit! How do I get out of this one! "See, your dad and
Trish, they've both been around the block. They're mature people. They
both dig it, because that's the way it's meant to be. If it wasn't,
well, nobody would turn on in the first place. You'd see why they were
doing it, you'd know why they were both naked on that bed together if
you let yourself he the woman you are ... if you let yourself go and
make love ... with me ... I want to make love to you, Davie ... I want
to feel your beautiful naked body next to mine ... want to give myself
to you, the way a man gives himself to a woman ... in bed ...
"Noooo!" she wailed, totally afraid now. She didn't understand what had
come over Randy. He was so nice before, almost like a brother ... What
was he thinking of now? How could he be thinking of doing to her what
her father was doing to Trish?
Randy was beside himself now. Panic mixed with pride and rage coursed
through his young loins. You little prick teasing bitch!, he swore at
her silently. You're not getting off the hook that easy! I'm going to
fuck you tonight, even if it means tearing off that innocent little
dress and raping you!
He grabbed Davie's breasts in both his hands and forced her down on the
bed, pinning her there with his agile body. She struggled, trying to
scream, but he clamped his mouth tightly onto her, forcing her lips
wide apart with his lips and tongue, sending his oral probe deep into
her soft, warm mouth as though it were his cock in her cunt which it
soon would be, his cock into her tight little hole. The terrified young
girl continued to struggle, but her struggled only excited the passion-
crazed youth who pressed his strong body, with its unavoidable witness
of masculinity, harder into her loins. He was going to rape her! She
knew it now. She had so often dreamed of the first time with a boy. In
those childish fantasies, the boy was always gentle, tender and
patient. Now she was going to be ravaged by a man she had trusted ... a
man who had suddenly gone out of control. Noooooo!
But the young teenage girl was helpless beneath the powerful, lust-
crazed youth. He reached down and grabbed the hem of her thin cotton
dress and began working it up her legs. Her struggles only assisted and
fanned his raging desire. Every time she squirmed, she rubbed against
his burgeoning cock, exciting the passionate young man even more.
Finally, the dress was hiked up over her bare breasts and under her
armpits, leaving her totally naked except for the rumpled rag around
her upper chest. Davie was humiliated beyond words, and she lay on her
back struggling, trying to turn her face away from the demanding youth,
her eyes blurred by tears.
"No, honey ... don't cry," he kept saying to her, his voice quavering,
"there's nothing to cry about ... you want it, Davie ... you know you
want it ... want to feel my cock inside you, the way Trish felt your
old man's ... it's a beautiful thing ... beautiful to feel a warm, hard
cock in you hot little pussy ... oh, baby ... I want to fuck you, baby
... I want you, honey ... got to have you ..."
His eyes feasted on her naked, trembling breast flesh, and he raised a
hand to the circular mounds, pinching one tiny coral nipple until it
stood firm and erect. Then he repeated the process with the other. And
then he swooped down like a sea gull and engulfed one breast
gluttonously in his mouth, pulling the nipple and the aureole between
his lips and sucking and nibbling voraciously on the sensitive flesh.
Davie cried out in protest, but he paid no attention. Who would come to
her rescue--her old man? Hah! He was fucking the shit out of somebody
else at that moment!
Randy licked voraciously at the delectable flesh of Davie's breasts and
nipples, his cock near to bursting with desire and demanding release.
Davie's body's threshed wildly beneath him, and he sensed that her
frenetic movements were not totally inspired by fear, that rather, it
was his mouth and tongue on her naked tits that was causing her such
agitation.
Faster and faster his mouth and tongue licked over the trembling young
globes, setting them afire with his liquid firebrand. Then his hand
dipped down to her dark, fleecy pubic mound, and his fingers crawled
over her soft pussy hair and into her slick, virginal pussy slit. He
almost went wild with delirium and expectation.
"Ooooooohhhh!" Davie cried fearfully as she felt his merciless touch on
her secret pants. "Noooo, Randy ... stop it ... you've got to stop!"
"... can't ... I can't stop now ... it feels so great ... oooohhh, God
it feels good ..."
He spread her legs rudely to give him greater access to her trembling
cunt. Davie flailed her head insanely from side to side and tried to
push him away with her small fists, but her efforts were useless. She
stared up at the passion-contorted features of the sexy blond boy with
terror in her eyes terror mixed with excitement. She was aroused more
than she had ever been. But she was afraid, too. No, no, no! Please
don't let this happen. I don't want it to happen, not like this! I
don't want to be raped. I don't want you to hurt me. Ohhhhh, noooo!,
she screamed silently.
As though he had received her mute plea telepathically and was
contemptuous of her request, Randy began tearing at his own clothes,
unable to get them off fast enough. She heard a button fail to the
floor as he clawed at his shirt. He swore under his breath as he
fumbled with his belt buckle and zipper, then almost lost his balance
as he attempted to pull down his pants while he was kneeling between
her legs, holding them with his powerful knees. If she hadn't been so
frightened, she might have giggled at his clumsy, feverish attempt to
undress while keeping her in her place beneath him. But where there's a
will-of-the-aching-cock, there's a fucking way, and in a matter of
moments, Randy, too, was bare-ass naked before her, his throbbing,
rock-hard cock standing away from his muscular belly like a flag pole.
Her eyes widened an disbelief. God, he did look like the model in the
photograph! How did Trish know that?
Through fear-widened eyes, the lovely teenager watched the threatening
instrument above her; the massive girth, the hard, blue-veined head,
the wet droplets of seminal lubrication oozing from the tiny slit in
the end. It was big, all right, though not as big as her fathers. She
thanked God for that.
Suddenly, the frenzied blond youth moved down on top of her, forcing
himself brutally between her slender legs, his hips falling heavily to
wedge her tender young thighs far apart, securing her bouncing young
buttocks to the mattress. The dark downy curls of her pubic hair
brushed tantalizingly against his throbbing cockhead, inciting him to
unintelligible babblings of frenzied lust, drowning her low moans of
fear and protest. Randy placed his knees between her thighs to hold her
open to him, grinding his pelvis hard into her defenseless crotch. Then
he grabbed hold of his cock and worked it up teasingly up and down
until he parted the moist lips of her cunt with his prick's swollen
tip. He paused momentarily before the entrance of the snug, undefiled
passage, panting heavily, droplets of sweat beading his body. Then ...
He let out a loud groan, thrust his hips forward ... and rammed into
her like a Mack truck hitting a stack of cardboard boxes!
His long, sleek cock slid into her tight, vainly resisting little cunt
with a roaring fury, pushing the soft, moist flesh of her vaginal walls
in pressured waves before it, tearing her hymen like so much tissue
paper.
"Aaaarrrrraannggghh!" Davie screamed. "OH MY GOOOOODDD!" Her naked
passage felt as if his plunging weapon had ripped it into a thousand
tiny shards and she would bleed like a stuck pig. Then his balls
slapped harshly off her wet, furrowed buttocks, and he was filling her
completely, mercilessly, with no thought of her pain. His shaft lay
sunk deep in her belly, like a white-hot pole of living fire rammed
deep in her, and there wasn't one tiny ridge of her cunt walls left
untouched and unpaved by the boy's marauding penis.
He lay still for a moment then, his perspiring face next to her's, his
hot breath fanning her ear like that of a satyr's. Then he raised his
head and looked at her, lust contorting his handsome face. "How does
that feel, honey? How does it feel to have my big, slippery cock deep
inside your tight, sweet pussy?" he panted to her.
Davie hooked at him contemptuously. "How do you think it feels, you ...
you animal! It hurts! It's killing me!
"No, baby. Don't say that. You don't mean that. You like it. You love
it. You want it, don't you? Don't you!" And he flexed his rigid cock
inside her and shoved it ever harder against her cervix.
"Aaaaaahhhhhhh. Uuuuuunnnggghh!" she wailed again.
He began a slow, rocking motion between her thighs, seating her soft
and sensitive flesh with waves of pain as his expanded prick widened
the tight passage with each short, smooth stroke. Davie's legs
jackknifed in a frantic effort to escape the barbaric impalement, but
it only served to worsen her position. Pitiable screams of pain came
tumbling from deep in the subjugated young girl's throat as his rock-
hard shaft battered her yielding cunt flesh. He was driven onward by
her hapless cries; nothing could have deterred him now--not even the
appearance of her old man. His only thought was to deliver the load of
semen that weighted his hairy balls, and she slammed the twin blocks of
lust into her again and again in a desperate rush for orgasmic release.
Faster and faster his pelvis slammed onto the sweating, defenseless
loins of the naked young teenager, never letting up, never slackening
his thrust to give her an opportunity to adjust to his rampaging cock.
There was nothing for him now but cumming, cumming ...
Davie's body was aching with pain, but her brain was awhirl with crazy,
confusing thoughts; confetti in the wind. It's inside me, a man's thing
... for the first time ... and the pain ... it hurts ... it's so hot
and hard in me ... Trish said it hurt the first time, for awhile ...
he's raping me ... a very sexy boy, but why Is he doing it like this?
... I thought it would kill me when he shoved it in ... doesn't hurt as
much now ... so hot and hard inside me ... a woman ... does this make
me a woman? ... it hurts kind of good ...
Then all at once, her body, as though floating off like a severed space
capsule, began to respond involuntarily to the fierce hammerings from
Randy Ferris's bludgeoning cock. She didn't think about it consciously,
didn't understand or want to. She merely acted instinctively. Her whole
being began to twist and writhe beneath him and she groaned
incessantly. Her hot, hungry mouth sought Randy's and she moaned into
the dark, warm grotto and stuck her tongue wildly inside. Faint mewls
of submission issued from the back of her throat. Her face was wrung
with passion her mouth toiled and her neck strained; her nostrils
flared lewd flames of desire began to consume her. Something was
driving her on now, something in her body that made her want to answer
his thrusts with complementary motions of her own.
She was liking it!
She was enjoying Randy's penis inside her! It still hurt, but just as
he had said, she did like it; she did want it. The starting admission
to herself struck the lovely girl with the impact of a kick in the
stomach. It couldn't be true, it just couldn't and yet it was! Davie's
pussy had finally adjusted to the girth and length filling it and,
though there was still some pain, she had begun to be aware more of the
pleasurable sensations inside her. Her entire body was tingling, and
she could feel the many enjoyable jolts along with the painful ones,
jolts of sensual pleasure that she had never known before; they had
been stored in her child's body just waiting for release, just waiting
for the opportunity to transform her from a little girl into a sensuous
woman.
Going herself up completely now to the wild sensuality taking hold of
her, Davie flung her legs wider for her hot-blooded seducer, giving him
better access to her demanding pussy. She was no longer oppressed by
fear or pain or conflict, only by the swirling heat which attacked her
body like a raging inferno. Her hands clutched convulsively at his
back, nails raking across it, drawing skin with them and raising small
welts in her ardor as she sent her tongue hard into Randy's mouth, her
saliva mingling with his and flowing from the corners of her soft, pink
lips. Crazed with passion and arousal now, the lovely young brunette
rolled her hips beneath the hot shaft submerged in her once-innocent
belly, her pussy walls completely accepting everything he could give to
her newly-conquered cunt. The swollen twins of his testicles rammed
harder and harder against her quivering buttocks as he sought his
release. Davie wanted to cum now, too!
As he got closer and closer to his orgasm, Randy became increasingly
aware that the young virgin was no longer fighting him, was no longer
afraid; that her scratchings on his flesh were done out of desire
rather than fear. She was helping him, fucking with him now ... damned
if she wasn't digging it! The way her tongue shot into his mouth, the
way she'd thrown her legs wide, the way she was twisting her body in
the newly discovered rhythm of a sensual woman first experiencing
sexual intercourse ... they all told him that she liked him fucking
her; liked it, wanted it, wanted to cum and wanted him to cum, to fill
her up with his hot, molten seed ...
Yes ... ooohhh YYYYYSSSSS! The gun had been cocked and the last lewd
finger of thought pulled the trigger. His cock began jerking insanely
in her soft, elastic pussy as he bucked and heaved above her; great
billows of heat swirled through his loins as he emptied his hirsute
balls of his seed and the molten cum raced along the length of his cock
and exploded inside the virginal belly of the bucking young beauty
beneath him--again and again and again, a never-ceasing flow of liquid
fire filling her chaste cunt, despoiling it, filling it to overflowing.
And Davie accepted his cum, mewling wildly into his mouth, her legs
kicking and jerking in the air as her invaded cunt was jolted again and
again with the hot spurts of jism from his fiery tool. Never had she
known such intense feelings! Oh God, was this what doing it was like
all the time? Was this the way it was, this crazy, wild abandoned
feeling? Ooooohhhhh, it was soooo good! Now she needed to cum too,
wanted to cum with him, while he was spewing his fire into her belly
...
She strove for release with every muscle in her inexperienced young
body. "Don't stop, Randy, don't stop! Don't stop now!" she cried out to
him as she bucked wildly against him as hard as she could. She was
close ... so close. The sensations were building, building in her
loins. She knew what it was to cum, knew the delicious torment that
preceded it ... she was feeling that torment now, straining, reaching,
fucking back on his spewing cock. She had to cum on this beautiful
boy's cock. She had to ... had to cum!
She did. A thousand taunting feathers tickled her innards with fire and
she flailed her head on the bed in answer to the rapture that filled
her young, climaxing body. She gasped and groaned and sputtered her
release as she gave herself to the sexy and selfish young man who had
deflowered her so brutally. Randy swelled with pride as he felt her
release, as he experienced the beautiful young girl beneath his body
being racked by a powerful climax. Geezus Christ!, he never expected
that to happen, not the first time! This chick is something else!, he
was thinking while he obliged her and continued to fuck into her long
after his cock had finished shooting its load of white, frothy cum into
her belly. Finally, it was over, and he wearily collapsed on top of
her, both of them gasping for breath. They lay there for several
minutes together, not saying another word, until their breathing
returned to normal and his deflating cock slipped from the flooded
sheath of her young pussy with an obscene sluicing sound, dripping a
tell-tale vestige of semen across her white thigh as he rolled off her
and onto his back.
He reached over and pulled her onto him. "Oh God, Davie!" he breathed
up at her, covering her sweating face with moist, hot kisses, "That was
wonderful, just fantastic, the best I've ever had! Oh Davie, honey, I'm
sorry I was so rough on you, but I couldn't control myself ... you were
driving me out of my ever-lovin' mind! You understand, don't you?
Please tell me that you understand, that you forgive me--please. I know
you like it, baby. I know you did. Even for your first time. It was
good, wasn't it? Wasn't it good? And it's going to get better ..."
The ravished young brunette beauty lay propped on her elbow, her chin
cupped en her hand, looking at him for a long time without speaking.
Then a slow, inscrutable smile began to form at her sensuous full lips.
"I understand, Randy, I really do. And ... yes, I did like it and ...
maybe I'm crazy but ... I do forgive you," she said quietly. Then she
hesitated for a moment, her large, lovely hazel eyes looking steadily
into his, before she asked him innocently, "When can we do it again?
..."
Chapter 9
"That was fantastic, Peter, just fantastic. I don't know when I've been
fucked quite so breathless," the exhausted blonde said sincerely. But
her mind was filled with dark thoughts of revenge em the virile resort
owner for the way he had treated her--like a filthy whore! It wasn't
enough him to give her a savage ass fucking; he made her lick his cock
clean right afterwards, then suck his huge cock off while he kneeled
over her with his big hands knotted in her hair. He almost pulled it
out by the roots! It wasn't until after all that that he fucked her
cunt, that he let her cum too! The bastard! The stuck-up fucking
bastard! Who the hell does he think he is, treating her like that ...
calling her those filthy names? What the hell does he have against her?
Peter Knight lay beside the voluptuous blonde with his eyes closed. He
was sated, fulfilled, completely at peace. He smiled inwardly, knowing
that he should feel some kind of remorse for his vicious treatment of
the cunt-eating stewardess, but he didn't. He had settled the score, so
to speak. Not only with her, but with Francine--thought his ex-wife's
comeuppance for what she had subjected Davie to was still to be
arranged.
His ego was bolstered, he was king of the mountain now. He never
thought he would be able to get it up three times in a row! Why the
hell had he denied himself for so long? Too bad the blonde bitch
couldn't keep her hands off his tender daughter; if he hadn't seen
that, he would feel different about her perhaps ... she certainly was
one helluva fuck, about the best he'd ever had, matching him stroke for
stroke, turning him on to unbelievable heights of passion with her
obscene words and her flaming, unbridled sexuality. She was a white
witch, using some kind of voodoo magic on him to draw the fiery cum out
of his balls. His only regret was that he had given her the
satisfaction of capitulating to her brazen desirability. He would have
gotten more points in his own mind if he had walked away from her a few
hours ago without so much as a kiss. But then, look what he would have
missed!
A few hours ago! Geezus christ--Davie! She was home alone--she'd better
be! Dammit--he had allowed his own sexual craving to overshadow his
new-found duties to his young daughter; he had been weak when he should
have been strong! He had to get back to the house!
He roe unsteadily to his feet. His mind was alert, but his body
responded torpidly. He blinked and looked around the room. The moon had
risen on the horizon and the warm, blue shadows no longer illuminated
the room. Still, they had never bothered to turn on a light, so his
eyes had only slight difficulty adjusting to the dimness. He scuffed
around the room, gathering his discarded clothing and began to dress.
He also began to collect his thoughts.
What to do about Trish Byers ... he didn't want to see her again and
yet, he did. He had never known a woman as wildly abandoned, as
insatiable, as fantastic in bed, despite the handicap he gave her. But
she also represented a danger to his way of life, to the permanent
reunion he was planning for him and Davie--he didn't want his darling
little girl in the blonde's cunt-eating clutches ever again! One way to
insure that was to keep the stewie stuffed full of his cock! But how
would Davie feel about that? What was she supposed to do while he was
off screwing around with Trish? ... She was still provocatively naked
when he came out of the bathroom. Goddamn, she was gorgeous, a paen to
carnal lust, right there in the flesh! He took her hand and raised her
up off the bed, drawing her naked body close to him. "Get some sleep,
kid. I'll see you tomorrow--or rather, later today," he said, smiling
down at her.
"Really?" she asked, arching her eyebrows.
"Well, sure. Maybe we'll go for a drive up and down the island!" he
grinned.
"I can hardly wait," she teased back.
He surprised himself by suddenly saying, "You know something? Neither
can I ..."
* * *
Randy Ferris waited impatiently in the shadowy trees that bordered his
sister's guest unit until he saw the door open and Davie's father
started down the path along the beach for home. He had been scared to
death of seeing Knight on the way, after he left the dude's deflowered
daughter to her sweet--and sexy dreams! He had given her something to
dream about, all right! And she had given him plenty to tell Trish! He
couldn't get over how much that little doll baby had changed while he
was fucking her. She'd been nothing but a tight-assed, naive cherry
school-girl when they'd watched her old man giving it to Trish, and
later, when he'd tried to talk her into letting him fuck her. But once
he had his cock up her pussy. she'd undergone a goddamned
transformation to rival any in the world! She almost broke his pecker
with that hot, sweet body of hers, fucking him back like a tigress--
like Trish, for chrissake! That was really saying something. And then
she'd really blown his mind afterwards, when he was apologizing to her,
buttering her up so she wouldn't squeal to her old man, asking her to
forgive him for raping her! "When can we do it again?" she asks, WHEN
CAN WE DO IT AGAIN! Geezus!
He grinned to himself. All that sweating for nothing--he
should have known it would all be cool. Chicks didn't take ol' Randy's
cock inside their bellies just once without wanting it up there again
and again!
He walked up to the door and knocked softly. "Trish ... it's me. Hail
the conquering hero, home from the war ..." She met him as he opened
the door. His gorgeous sister was wearing a confident smile--and that
was all!
"Come in, you beautiful hunk," she said to him, wrapping her graceful
arms around his neck, "and tell your ever-lovin' sister all!" He did.
He told her everything in minute detail as he took off his clothes and
got into the big bed with her. He told her all about Davie Knight
between hot, tonguing kisses, and as he sucked her breasts. He told her
how he had practically raped the frightened brunette as he lay between
her legs with his cock plugged into her pussy. He told her how the
young virgin had suddenly gone wild and fucked him back, as his
beautiful blonde sister returned his heated thrusts with masterful
thrusts of her own ... until they came together on the bed, each body
part of a synchronized machine ... each lapsing into memories of the
exciting first encounters with the very sexy, very promising father-
daughter team.
Then Trish told Randy what had happened with Peter Knight--how he had
sodomized her, then made her suck his cock ... (She was sucking Randy's
cock as she related her tale of mistreatment.) After she finished
blowing her brother, she let him in on her latest plan a way to have
her fucking cake and eat it, too! The youth's heavy lidded eyes widened
with apprehension. "Trish, you're out of your mind. Knight is never
going to go for that! You're really asking for trouble this time," he
said incredulously.
She gave him one of her wiser-than-thou smiles as she snuggled next to
him and drew the sheet over their tired, spent bodies. "Wait and we,
lovey ... Just wait and see ..."
Chapter 10
A radiant, refreshed Davie Knight awoke around 9:30 the next morning
from a deep and delicious sleep. God, she felt great! Absolutely
marvelous. Her cheeks glowed and her eyes sparkled; she was exquisitely
healthy ...
She sat up in bed clutching her bent knees to her chest. A satisfied
smile played constantly around her full, sensuous lips. Over and over
she kept thinking to herself, I'm a woman now--a real woman! I'm not
just a scared kid in school any more ... I'm a woman! I've had a man's
warm, wonderful penis inside me ... I've been made love to--fucked--by
a man, and I want to have it again. Oh, I can't wait to have Randy's
big beautiful cock inside me again!
She giggled girlishly to herself as she thought how wicked it was of
her to have such blatant desires. No wonder Trish said the things she
did yesterday at the beach--she's had it hundreds of times probably and
really loves it and needs it. And Daddy, too, and probably even more,
because he's a man, and men always seem to be horny! That's just the
way they were built. Besides, Daddy is such a strong, handsome, virile
man ... it was easy to see why Trish wanted him to make love to her ...
Davie reviewed the scene in Trish's room, with the two of them naked
and screwing wantonly. She was no longer shocked or upset by what she
had witnessed. She understood now what made them go at each other like,
well, not like animals exactly, but like two people who were just ready
turned on and had to have each other. Sure, she could get behind that,
and she didn't feel any more animosity toward Trish, no disappointment
with her father. She knew she could face him now, because each of them
had secrets they couldn't share with the other ... not yet, anyway.
Thoughts of her father suddenly caused her to turn and look in his
direction. He was lying on his side in the big bed, sound asleep. Poor
lamb, he's pooped, she thought sympathetically. He must have had quite
a night of it!
Her heart swelled with pride as she thought of her strong, handsome
daddy making love to Trish Byers. He's got to be a fantastic lover,
with that heavenly body, and that enormous penis of his ... it must
have felt so good to Trish ... Daddy's wonderful thing deep inside her
... what would it be like to feel all that cock stuffed inside her?
Davie suddenly realized that she had been thinking of herself ... her
and her daddy! What was the matter with her? She must be nuts, sick, to
think a thing like that! Good God--her own father ... her daddy, her
daddy's penis!
She got up quickly and pulled a pair of shorts and a halter top out of
the drawer, tore off her shortie pajamas and dressed in a flash. Then
she tiptoed past her father's bed into the bathroom, where she brushed
her teeth and splashed water on her face. She smiled at her reflection
in the mirror as she combed her hair. Yes, she looked like a real woman
now ...
A phone call to Benny, the maitre d', brought a kitchen assistant to
the house in less than fifteen minutes. He arrived in a golf cart with
a huge tray of covered dishes. Davie gave him a dollar and thanked him
effusively, aware that the young man's dark eyes roamed her body with
barely concealed interest. He hadn't paid much attention to her before,
it seemed. Did he think she looked like a real woman too?
She went outside to gather a few of the more fragrant island
wildflowers that grew in the sandy ground. There wasn't much, but she
made a clever little bouquet from what she could find and placed them
in a little glass pot she found in the cupboard. Then she placed the
pot on the serving tray and took it into the bedroom where her beloved
father still lay fast asleep.
Putting the tray down on the large, low night stand next to the bed,
she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. He stirred and
brought his hand up to his face as though to brush away a fly. Davie
giggled. Then she repeated the kiss, this time letting her lips linger
for a second longer. "Wake up, lazy bones. Rise and shine," she
whispered in his ear.
Peter Knight was dreaming about Trish Byers--and about his daughter.
He was lying naked on a bed with two naked serving girls offering him
platters of sumptuous food. The platters hid their faces. At his silent
command, both women brought the silver trays before him, exposing their
beautiful, lusting faces--Trish ... and Davie! Then the girls formed a
human bridge across his body and began to kiss each other. He caressed
both their bodies with his fingertips, marveling at the softness of
their skin ... the incredible feel of their breasts on his hairy chest.
His cock was rigidly erect. He pushed the women apart and sat up
between them. Everything was in slow motion. Trash straddled him and
slid backward towards his cock, lifting her body languorously and
lowering it closer and closer to his throbbing malehead. But just as
she was about to impale herself on has scalding rod, she suddenly took
on the form and face of his daughter! He immediately went soft, and
Davie chided him: "Get it up, Daddy! Get it up!" She reached down and
shook him by the shoulders, rubbing her lithe young body against his
groin, making him swell to instant hardness again. "Get it up, Daddy
... Daddy, get it up!" ...
"Daddy, get up. Get up, Daddy!" Davie shouted to him as she shook his
broad shoulder as best she could with her small hand. His eyes flew
open and he shook his head, trying to clear his muddled brain of the
erotic dream. Much to his dismay, he had a huge erection. It was damned
lucky he was lying on his side!
"Davie, what are you doing here?" he asked dumbly.
"I live here, silly. Remember?" she said with a little ripple of
laughter. "Gee, you sure are hard to wake up. But you have to now; your
breakfast won't stay hot forever, you know."
"Breakfast?" The smell of scrambled eggs and ham and strong, hot coffee
wafted unto his nostrils. He turned to her. She was learning over him,
reaching for another pillow to prop behind his head. Mutely he raised
himself up, catching sight of her bobbing young breasts as she plumped
the two pillows together behind him. He looked up into her face--she
was so fresh, so wholesome, so goddamn sexy.
The lithe brunette beauty smiled lovingly at her bewildered father. "I
hope you won't be mad at me, Daddy. I wanted to serve you breakfast in
bed, so I had them send it up from the dining room," she said brightly,
then added, "you're not mad, are you?"
He grinned at her reassuringly. "Course not, honey. How could I
possibly be mad at that? I think this is the first time in my life I've
ever been served breakfast in bed by a beautiful young lady; it's not
even my birthday!"
"Well, it won't be the last time, I can promise you that ... not as
long as I'm here!" she added. Then she stopped short, looking at him
anxiously. "I will be here, won't I, Daddy?"
"Yes, darling. You'll be here. You can count on that."
"Oh, Daddy ... I love you so much!" she said, grabbing him around the
neck and hugging his face tightly to her yielding bosom. He was so
good, so fine, so human ... how could she have been so confused and
tormented when she saw him doing something as natural as making love,
her wonderful daddy? ...
They ate breakfast together then, with Davie sitting on the edge of the
bed, chattering brightly about all sorts of things the two of them
could do together. Very casually he inquired about Randy Ferris, and
how long the blonde youth had stayed.
"Oh, just a little while, Daddy. He didn't want to make you mad,
because he wants to take me for a swim ..." she said, concentrating on
the marmalade she was spreading on her toast with unusual
determination.
"That's nice," the handsome man said absent-mindedly. He was watching
Davie's firm little breast jostle against its twin under her green
print halter. "Sure, I suppose you could go for a swim with him
sometime ... His mind screamed, No! I don't want that raunchy little
bastard to see Davie in a bikini! What if he persuades her to take it
off, the way Trish did?
"Could I, Daddy?" she asked, looking up hopefully at him.
"Absolutely."
"Oh, great! Thank you, Daddy. He's coming to pick me up at 11:00."
"What! That's out of the question. You ... you got too much sun
yesterday. You can put that swimming business off until tomorrow or the
next day!" he sputtered.
Davie looked at him, disappointment and dismay plainly evident in her
lovely face. "Daddy! What's the matter? Why don't you want me to go
swimming with Randy Ferris?" she asked him plaintively.
"I ... I didn't say you couldn't go swimming with him, honey. It's just
... well, Randy is a lot older than you are. He's not exactly a boy any
more ..." Peter Knight cleared his throat self-consciously.
Oh, don't I know that he isn't a boy anymore!, Davie thought
triumphantly to herself. He's a man ... just like you are, Daddy!
"And I'm not exactly a little girl any more, Daddy," she protested.
"You have to realize that. I can't stand to be treated like a child.
That's just the way Mother treats me, as I told you. I didn't think you
were going to do the same ..."
She had him now, and he knew it all too well. What could he say? He had
no choice but to give her her way and hope to God she had enough
fortitude to resist that brash, good-looking Ferris kid. Shit! Having a
luscious teenage daughter around was a helluva lot tougher than he
imagined.
"OK. OK, sweetheart. I concede. Just watch yourself, Davie. Randy is a
pretty smooth operator."
"He is ...?" she asked, feigning surprise and disbelief. Her hazel eyes
sparkled with the faintest glimmer of artfulness. She placed a warm
hand on his and smiled at him sympathetically. "Don't worry, Daddy dear
... Everything's going to work out fine ... just fine ..."
* * *
As soon as they were out of sight and racing away from
the resort, Randy reached across the stick shift and placed a warm hand
on Davie's bare thigh, giving it a knowing squeeze that caused the
young girl to jump in the bucket seat. She looked over at him and he
gave her one of his slow, sexy smiles. She sent him one of her own.
They both broke out laughing then, and Randy stepped on the accelerator
of the red MG and roared down the island road in the hot sun. Davie
really did look fantastic today; better than she had ever looked. There
was something different about her, more mature. She seemed to have
blossomed over-night. If she's like this after one fast fuck, what's
she going to be like after a long, leisurely one? he wondered. Christ!
She's going to give Trish some tough competition!
He drove all the way to the point at the southern end of the island and
parked the convertible in a narrow grove of trees. Then they both got
out of the sports car and walked hand and hand onto the beach. He was
wearing a pair of cut-off jeans over his trunks, and a white tee shirt.
Davie admired his legs as he spread an old blanket on the shimmering
sand. Her pussy began to tingle with anticipation as she thought of his
virile young cock and the fucking she knew she would get. What was
happening to her? She was becoming as horny as a guy!
"Would m'lady care to be seated?" he asked, making a courtly bow and
stretching out a muscular arm towards the blanket. Davie laughed. "My
pleasure," she answered in a British accent, as she dropped to her
knees on the worn bed cover. Randy sat down beside her. He reached into
his back pocket and carefully pulled something out, holding it up for
her to see. It was a joint of marijuana ... Davie's eyes widened.
"Where did you get that?" she asked naively.
"Santa left it in my stocking. He came by a few days early," he joked.
Davie grinned sheepishly. "You nut!" she told him.
He lit up then, drawing the smoke into his lungs in quick inhalations.
He closed his lips and wrinkled his brow as he held the pungent smoke
inside for several seconds. He took one more toke, then handed it to
her.
Davie hadn't smoked pot often. She just had never gotten into it that
much. But she wasn't about to let him know that. So she mimicked his
style, and drew the hot smoke into her lungs. The next moment she was
choking and coughing, her eyes watering from the harsh stinging in her
throat. It wasn't the best grass in the world!
Randy couldn't help laughing at her. For a moment, she looked like a
little girl again. It was obvious that she was embarrassed as hell. He
took the joint from her and dragged deeply on it again. She held out
her fingers, determined not to look like a juvenile who couldn't handle
it. Randy smiled slyly. She was taking the bait, all right. Not that he
had to get her stoned in order to fuck her--he had already proved that.
But he had something else in mind; something she might be a little more
reluctant to try. He wanted her to suck his cock! He would be the first
guy to fuck her in the mouth, too! And if all went as he planned it,
he'd have her asshole cherry before the day was out!
Davie inhaled the narcotic cigarette daintily, in short puffs,
unwilling to risk another coughing fit. She was already beginning to
feel lightheaded. She felt floaty, as though her limbs were weightless.
She had an unexplainable urge to giggle. And she did. She took a few
more short pulls on the intoxicating weed before she handed it back to
Randy.
When there was nothing left except a tiny hollow tube of paper, Randy
deposited it in his mouth, swallowed it and stood up to take off his
clothes. She thought that was very funny. She laughed and laughed. She
couldn't stop laughing. "You ate the roach! You ate it!" she said over
and over again.
Randy thought to himself, Yeah, baby, and you're going to eat it, too.
And it ain't gonna be a roach! "C'mon, doll, take off your clothes. You
haven't lived 'til you've gone skinny dippin' stoned."
That sounded like a marvelous idea. Without hesitation, she rose
unsteadily to her feet and started to untie her halter top. Randy
walked slowly over to her. "Here, I'll do that," he said. There was
something so masterful about him. He knew how to take charge of things,
and she obediently turned around while he untied the knot at her neck,
then did the same to the one at her waist. The skimpy garment fen away
from her body and floated limply to the ground like a sad little flag.
She stood there watching it, giggling at it, until she felt Randy's
hands slip around her from behind and grab her bare boobs in his
masculine hands. He pulled her back against him and she drew in her
breath sharply as her back came in contact with his smooth, broad chest
and his hands roamed over her naked, sensitive breasts.
"Ooooohhhhh," she moaned softly, closing her eyes to the wonderful
sensations his hands were creating in her. The sun shone hotly on her
skin, melting her, turning her into jelly. Her pussy became a bowl of
warm, sticky jelly. She was aware of something hard and demanding
pressing into her buttocks, between the cheeks of her ass ... his penis
... Randy's hard, sturdy penis ...
She was very turned on, and she leaned back even further into him, with
her arms dangling at her sides, in a shameless and wanton posture of
submission. She was ready to make love now; she wanted it right now.
Why didn't he fuck her now?
Randy's hands moved down her sleek belly and found the zipper of her
shorts. Deftly, he unzipped them and began to work them down over her
flaring hips. Davie wriggled her ass against him to assist him with the
stopping. She giggled again. Her brain was dazed and her attitude
incoherent. She could have cared less if there were an ocean liner full
of camera-clicking spectators anchored out in the sea. In fact, she
sort of wished there were ...
The shorts lay puddled at her feet. Next, Randy slipped his hands
inside her filmy panties, reaching along her bare skin until he touched
her silky crop of pubic hair. She moaned again, breathless at his
exciting touch as he gently fingered the pad of curls and cupped her
pussy mound in one of his dampish palms. Yessssss ... oh, yessssss, do
that! she screamed wordlessly. The sounds evaporated in her throat. But
her squirming body and raspy breathing got the message across. The wily
blonde youth smiled confidently to himself. Snickered silently, was
more like it.
The panties came down her hips and thighs and calves to commingle with
the shorts and halter. She was an island in a little sea of clothing.
She thought that funny also.
"Let's go for a swim," Randy whispered in her pretty ear. He followed
up the suggestion with his tongue, flicking it inside to tickle the
highly sensitive orifice. Davie almost collapsed from the sensation. Oh
God, oh how she wanted him to fuck her now. He was driving her insane.
All she could think of was his juicy cock plundering her steaming
vaginal depths. How could he thank of anything else?
"A swim?" she echoed weakly. "Now?"
"Yeah, right now. I want to get it over with so l can come back up here
and eat your sweet little pussy!"
Oh, God, did he ready mean that? She was dazed by his lewd suggestion,
and she followed mutely as he led her by the hand down to the edge of
the water, his long, powerful cock jutting out ahead of him. His
backside reminded her of some of the statues of Greek gods she had seen
at a museum, his muscles ripping as he walked, his physique, perfect.
Yes, he was a statue come to life, leading her down to the glassy,
azure sea.
It was an incredible experience to swim like that--naked and stoned,
and horny. She mostly floated, letting her glossy, long hair fan out on
the water like the tentacles of an octopus. Suddenly she felt a rude
splash of water on her face as Randy swam up beside her and sent a
deliberate shower of sea water in her direction. She flailed and
sputtered and began to tread water. She splashed him back and they
played like porpoises for a while. Then he dived down under the water,
and under her legs and grabbed her pussy with his mouth! She screamed
and fell backwards. Before she had a chance to gather her wits, the
strong, sexy youth appeared in front of her and pushed her head down
with his hand ... down under the water ... down to his loins, to his
genitals! It lasted only a moment, then he pulled her back up again,
but the moment had served to implant a portent of things to come--of
things to cum! God, did he really expect her to do that? Noooooo--that
was dirty, perverted. She couldn't possibly do that! She wouldn't take
him in her mouth, the way she had seen her mother doing it to that
disgusting fairy!
His little "test" provided Randy with exactly the reaction he expected.
The look of panic on Davie's face was ample witness to her prejudice.
Moments like them were made to order for Randy Ferris; he liked nothing
better than a sexual challenge from a gorgeous female.
"Sorry, honey. That was an accident," he apologized convincingly. "Want
to go dry off?" He grinned at her and paddled nearer, so that their
bodies were touching under the salty, caressing water. Desire was the
undercurrent that carried them onto shore.
Davie flopped heavily to the sand. Her brain was reeling. Fuzzy
distorted images of Randy, her father and Trish glided across the
ceding of her mind like reflections in a row of carnival mirrors. The
sun burned bleeding white bans of liquid heat into her closed eyes as
she lay sprawled on her back. The air was very still, except for the
sound of respiration. There was a persistent fluttering in her belly.
She was dimly aware of movement next to her, of the wet, bare flesh
very close to her body. Randy was moving around on the blanket,
brushing against her body as he shifted his body. She suddenly felt his
bare hands on her salty skin, his fingers touching her magically,
lightly all over her body. He was stroking her skin, his fingers turned
into feathers. She turned to gooseflesh and her body began to tingle
everywhere. Her pussy throbbed with desire. Involuntarily, she opened
her legs a little wider, feeling the caressing heat of the sun on her
naked pussy, on the still little nubbin that was her clitoris.
Randy shifted again on the blanket, his hands still fluttering over her
skin like an army of butterflies. Then she felt a scant shower of cool
water on her thighs and belly. She flinched from the sudden sprinkling,
but she was caught by the torpor that engulfed her. So relaxed, six
lazy, so filled with delightful sensations that she couldn't muster the
energy to open her eyes.
The sexy youth had crawled between her legs and lay on his belly, his
face inches away from her enticing coral pussy slit, where the blushing
little button of delight peeked out from between the dewy lips. God,
what an edible little cunt she had. This is going to be pure heaven,
licking that tasty pink furrow, he thought to himself.
He moved nearer and without spreading her lips apart, suddenly thrust
his tongue out and flicked her clitoris. Davie started as though she
had been touched by a hot ware. "Uuunngghh!" she gasped, her eyes
flying open instantly. Randy!
The good-looking boy grinned up at her from under his sleepy, sexy
eyes. A shock of wet, blonde hair was matted over his eyebrow. He
wagged his tongue obscenely at her. Then, without a word, he reached up
under her bare ass cheeks and elevated her with his hands, spreading
her pussy lips with his thumbs, exposing her ripe cunt meat to his
wanton, lustful gaze. His rock-hard cock throbbed beneath him. Hot
damn!, he swore to himself, I really want to eat her little pussy. I
can't wait any longer!
And he didn't. He sent his tongue into her pulsating furrow with
dispatch, wasting not time, but drawing the delicious flesh into his
mouth as though it were a succulent little breast. He licked and lapped
and sucked her, running his tongue up and down and around her juicy
slit, unable to get enough of the sweetly pungent sex flesh. He rolled
around on his cock, feeling that he could almost cum from the sheer
excitement of eating this beautiful kid's tender box. No wonder Trish
freaked out when she sucked Davie off. This had to be the best piece of
pussy pie he had ever eaten--every bit as tasty as Trish's.
Davie groaned and flailed on her back, her wet hair slapping the hot,
dry blanket beneath her. She thought she would go mad from the insane
licking; she felt she would go right out of her mind from the rapturous
excitement in her heated loins and stomach. Ohhhh, oh Goooodddd! She
had never been eaten like this before! His lips, his tongue, his mouth,
working her pussy flesh like that, sucking it so beautifully, so
maddenly well. A feeble finger of conscience admonished her for
allowing the youth to feast so wantonly on her nether parts, but she
waved it away from her mind. No, she had to have it; she didn't want it
to end ever! She couldn't stop him now; her body controlled her will,
and her body said, "Onward!"
A paddle, a long, smooth, slick, broad paddle stirring in her cauldron
of molten lust, churning the sensate flesh around and around and around
and ...
"Uuuuuuuunnnn ... uuuuunnn ... UUUUWUWUNNNNNN!!! She felt the rumblings
deep inside her body ... rumblings which grew louder and more violent
until she was shaking like a volcanic mountain. Coals of fire erupted
from the core of her being and rained down on her flesh, and her nerves
sizzled like cold water on a hot griddle. Her cuntal juices turned to
liquid fire and gushed onto Randy's lips and tongue and flowed like
lava, down to her anal crevice. Her body danced with jolts from a
thousand live wires. She screamed out her ecstasy as she came and came
and came ...
Geezus christ! This chick is one for the books! She sure as hell
doesn't have to take a back seat to Trish, that's for damned sure!,
Randy remarked to himself as he continued to lap at the young beauty's
pussy until she finally begged him to stop. She almost passed out from
the sensations that emanated from between her legs. Never had she been
so thoroughly, so satisfyingly tongue fucked.
The sun-drugged, sex-drugged, narcotized young girl lapsed into a near-
comatose state, wallowing in the delicious tingling sensations that
pervaded her body. She was barely cognizant of Randy's movement now ...
that he had crawled from between her legs and inched up along side of
her, his huge prick preceding him like some pagan battle standard. His
eyes glowed with fevered anticipation and insatiable lust. He kneeled
beside her head and leaned down to kiss her wantonly on the mouth,
pressing his tongue between her unresisting lips and deep inside her
mouth.
Davie drew in her breath at the unexpected assault on her mouth,
tasting her own pussy juices mixed with the briny essence of saltwater.
Benumbed as she was, she felt another little tremor of renewed
excitement flutter through her spent loins, and an audible sigh escaped
past Randy's engulfing lips. Then he drew away from her, and she felt
the absence of his lips; she wanted them on her mouth again ...
Suddenly they were back ... he was rubbing his mouth across her lips
... so soft ... soft delicate mouth rubbing back and forth, back and
forth, but differently. There was something different in the way it
felt ... softer than his lips ... softer than a baby's skin ... so
delicately soft, but firm, too. Why was it different this time?
Her eyes fluttered opened then squinted against the light. Oh God--she
was staring right at the huge, erect penis, at the blood-engorged,
glistening-tipped cock of Randy Ferris! That's what it was that she
felt on her mouth--Randy's cock! Oh nooooo! Surely he didn't expect her
to put that thing into her mouth!
Oh, but he did! "Davie, kiss my cock, baby. Open your lips and give it
a little kiss," he urged her. His face was a mask of desire.
"Nooooo! I can't. I can't do that," she insisted, turning her face away
and closing her eyes again.
"Sure you can, honey. You know you want to, deep down inside ... just
like you really wanted me to fuck your little pussy last night.
Wouldn't you like to know what it feels like to have it in your mouth,
honey?"
There was a tremor of excitement in his husky voice. He leaned over her
again and pressed his instrument against her lips, while he placed his
right hand on her bare, upthrust breast and began to massage the
sensitive flesh expertly.
"No! Take it away from me," she protested, but there was slightly less
conviction in her voice. The familiar stirrings of desire were back in
her body, and she found herself becoming curious. What would it taste
like, she wondered. Randy was such a beautiful, sexy man not like that
disgusting fruit with her mother ...
"Sure, baby, if that's the way you feel about it," he answered a tone
of annoyance. He rolled over and lay flat on his back, placing his
hands behind his head. "It's OK with you if I eat your pussy, if I
stick my tongue in your snatch and suck you unto you cum all over my
mouth ... that's fine, isn't it?" he said contemptuously. "But when the
ball is in your court, you don't want to play!"
"It's not that, Randy, it's just that ... well ..."
"Forget it, sweetheart. I get the message. We'd just skip the oral
stuff from now on--both of us. I mean, it's too bad, a damned shame,
really--I could acquire a real taste for that sweet little cunt of
yours ... but, it wouldn't be fair to either of us, would it? One-way
streets always lead to resentments, don't they?"
The clever youth made his point--in spades. Davie felt a seizure of
panic as she considered Randy's threat he didn't intend to go down on
her again ... not unless she "played bag" ...
She was wavering, torn by a desire to please this man, her first male
lover who had already given her so much pleasure. She couldn't bear to
think of it coming to an end, or being something less than complete.
Yet, she felt frightened and repulsed at the thought of putting his
rigid member into her mouth; she kept seeing her mother blowing that
horrible faggot. Besides, she'd never done it before. How do you do it?
She didn't want to make a fool of herself. But Randy was right, she
knew: turn about's fair play. She sighed heavily and turned to him,
letting her arm rest on his chest.
She snuggled closer, wanting him to put a reassuring arm around her,
but he continued to lay sprawled on his back with his arms behind his
head, his eyes closed and his face expressionless.
She put her head on his chest. Still no reaction. He was mad at her!
She looked down his body, which was elongated from her perspective. Her
drugged brain saw him as a column of flesh stretched out like a sun
bronzed Plastic Man in the comic books. His erect cock was thrust m the
air like an angry middle finger of disdain. Slowly she let her fingers
slide down his chest, down his belly, down to has sparse forest of
crisp, dark blonde pubic hair ... Randy's prick bobbed in welcome to
her hand. She paused there.
"I ... I don't know how to do it, Randy. I've never done it before,"
she said haltingly.
"Done what?" he asked dryly. (He knew perfectly well what she was
talking about. He had to suppress a self-satisfied smile.)
"Put a man's thing into my mouth ... kissed it." She was grateful that
he could not see her face embarrassment was written all over it.
"Oh, that ..." he said nonchalantly, "just forget it, honey. Forget I
ever asked you to kiss it, or lick it, or take it in your mouth ..."
"No, Randy. I want to do it for you. I don't want to be a one-way
street," she answered firmly, but in a lithe girl voice. "Only you have
to tell me what to do ..."
Chapter 11
Peter Knight stole another long glance at his passenger as they drove
south along the narrow, two-way road in his sleek silver Porsche. Trish
had greeted him wearing the briefest and sexiest of black bikinis and a
thin gold chain around her neck. She was all smiles, and gave no
indication that she bore any resentment towards him for his callous
treatment of her the night before. She looked so goddamned exciting, so
sensual, that he had torn off his own swim trunks and fucked her right
then, this time treating her like a partner and not a whore. He felt he
couldn't get enough of her.
Now, scanning her bikini-clad body again, he found his cock once more
straining under his trunks as his eyes roved over the generous expanse
of breast flesh that was revealed above the skimpy top, and the smooth,
flat belly, her golden thighs and long, beautiful legs. She wanted to
go to the point, she said. . she had been there before ... the beach
was secluded and the water warmest there ...
His thoughts weighted his right foot and the Porsche went faster,
accelerating with the increase of his desire.
"What's the rush, lover?" she teased, giving him one of her sexy, all-
knowing looks. She placed her hand on his sun-warmed thigh, adding
another ten miles an hour to the gauge.
Finally, they rounded a bend where the highway narrowed into a dusty
road. The handsome resort owner shifted down and let the Porsche slow
to a crawl to minimize the fallout created by the grooved, Michelin
tires. He suddenly jammed on the brakes when he spotted Randy's red MG
parked in a shaded turnout about 75 yards ahead. Trish saw the little
red sports car, too. It was there, thank God ... just as she had
planned it!
"What the hell?" Peter said, his brow furrowed in a frown.
"Looks like somebody beat us to it ... to the point, that is," Trish
sad slyly. "What a coincidence ..."
A sense of dread creeped over Davie's father. What the fuck was she
doing way out here? Why had Randy brought her here for a swim unless
... Christ, why had he allowed her to go with that kid anyway? He
should have known better ...
"Oh well, we might as well go for swim with them, lover. Then we can
find another spot of our own ..." the scheming blonde said casually.
"It'll be fun to surprise them."
Peter didn't answer. His jaw was set and the frown deepened on his
forehead. From force of habit, he grabbed the ignition keys and tucked
them into a shallow pocket inside the waistband of his trunks. Then he
got out and walked purposefully towards the beach, leaving the cocksure
stewardess to follow in his wake.
As he got closer and closer to the stretch of white sand, his scowl
deepened and his apprehension increased. He was close to the clearing
now, and he peered out into the water, looking for splashing young
bodies, hoping to see his precious daughter cavorting in the
crystalline ocean with the devil-may-care young buck. Instead, his
heart sickened as he heard sounds, grunting animal sounds on the beach.
He stopped short. Oh no! God, no!, his mind screamed. Those sounds
could only mean one thing! It was like a grisly replay of the shocking
scene he had witnessed twenty four hours ago, on another beach. Only
this time, it wasn't a female--it was Randy Ferris. God, what was he
doing to little Davie?
Randy Ferris wasn't doing anything to little Davie--little Davie was
doing it to him!
A startled, disbelieving gasp burst from Peter Knight's throat as he
took a few steps further and his eyeballs ran smack into the sight of
Randy Ferris lying on his back with his arms stretched out at his
sides, getting his cock sucked royally by DARLING LITTLE DAVIE!
He swayed on his feet, as though he had been hit by a battering ram,
and stared in utter stupefaction at the carnal sight. He closed his
eyes, but he couldn't close out the reality of what was happening on
the beach blanket. It was horribly, brutally real... Davie was sucking
the bastard's cock, and doing it with obvious enjoyment, of her own
free will ...
The shocked and anguished father fought to sort out his thoughts, to
collect his reason and do what a concerned parent would do in such a
situation. He wanted to rush forward, to teat Davie away from the kid's
loins and rip his privates right out of his groin. He wanted to kill
the sonofabitch and give Davie the beating if her life. But he knew he
couldn't do that. The one unassailable fact of the matter was that
Davie was sucking the kid's cock of her own free will! That was
obvious. She was turned on as hell, mewling over him with
unintelligible slurping calls from deep in her throat, gnawing at him
like a dog with a bone, pulling on the this casing of his long, rigid
prick as though it were a lollipop; as though she couldn't get enough
of it!
His eyes were fastened on his daughter's naked, twisting form that
glistened with sweat m the early afternoon sunlight as she worked
slavishly over the bronzed loins of Trish's kid brother. Davie ...
Davie, my precious little girl, what's happened to you? Why are you
taking a man's penis In your sweet little mouth... your beautiful,
innocent mouth? Oh God, you're so beautiful, darling, your face, your
body, with its baby-soft buttocks, your perfect little breasts swaying
there ... your delicate little pussy, with its soft, soft hair ...
Reflexively, the tormented father took a step forward, blind panic
seizing him as the impact of his carnal desire struck him with the
force of a wrecking ball. His cock was hard and throbbing wildly in his
swim trunks. He was excited ... excited by the lewd sight on the beach!
His own daughter! Oh God, he was sick, he'd lost control! Noooooooo!
The devil danced in his head, goading him to make love to his own
daughter! Yes, his love for Davie was not platonic and paternal--it was
carnal ... it was the sexual love of a man for a beautiful woman! And
Davie was a woman he couldn't kid himself about that any more. She was
the woman he wanted more than anyone in the world. He wanted to possess
her body, to feel her mouth on his cock, to feel himself inside her
tender pussy. He let out an agonized moan of self-reproach. But he
couldn't help himself, now. He couldn't! He was past all redemption,
past all caring, as torrents of desire swept over him.
Vaguely, for his eyes were fixed on Davie, Peter was aware that he was
not alone. The warm body of Trish Byers pressed against his arm. "Looks
like she's enjoying it, doesn't it?" she cooed into his ear in her
honeyed voice. "I hope you're not too upset ..."
"Upset! How could I possibly be upset, watching my only daughter suck
the begeezus out of your brother's cock!" He ground the words out at
her through a clenched jaw.
"No Peter, you shouldn't let it throw you. After all, Davie's not a
little girl any more. It's time she found out what men are an about,
don't you think? Unless, of course, you're jealous ..."
"Jealous?"
"Yes, honey. Why else would you have a big hard-on?" she said sultrily,
reaching down to squeeze his granite-like prick and his bloated balls.
"You want your darling little daughter ax for yourself, don't you?" she
droned on. "But that's so selfish. That wouldn't be fair to Davie,
would it?"
She was playing with his cloth-encased genitals. He didn't move. His
brain was reeling as he watched with perverse fascination the lurid
scene between his sensual daughter and the blonde vamp's brother. Trish
droned on again as she slipped her slender fingers down inside the
elastic cloth and came in contact with his bare cock. She used her
thumb to spread the syrupy seminal ooze an around the helmeted head,
and under the ridge, where she knew he would be most sensitive. "I know
how much you want to be lying on that blanket right now, with Davie's
soft mouth around your big, hard prick . . sucking and sucking and
sucking. I know how much you love to be sucked, Peter. Remember how I
sucked you off last night, after you fucked my ass so hard? You'd like
to fuck that sweet ass of your daughter's, too ... wouldn't you?
Wouldn't you just love to shove that great big hot prick of yours in
her tight little asshole? Of course ... you're only human, baby. I
understand that. Yes, you'd like to fuck your darling little girl in
the ass, almost as much as you'd like to fuck her juicy little pussy.
Oh, yes, you're dying to fuck her hot, precious cunt, aren't you. Look
at the way she's got it stuck up in the air, just crying for her
daddy's hard cock ..."
A low, tortured, guttural sound purled from the lust-crazed man,
signaling to Trish that her mission was as good as accomplished. She
slipped deftly out of her bikini and pressed her naked breasts against
his bare arm, rubbing the nipples over his hairy, muscular flesh. Then
she began kissing him on the neck and throat with her hot, moist lips
as she hooked her thumbs inside his trunks and worked them down his
hips until they dropped on the sandy ground. Then she took his hard
prick in both her hands and rubbed it lightly up and down, pressing her
body into his back and his solid flanks, rubbing her pussy up against
has ass. Then she began to nudge him forward, toward the blanket where
his beloved Davie sucked voraciously on Randy's cock, saying: "Go on,
Peter ... go fuck your beautiful daughter ... you know you want to, you
know you want her. Everybody wants to fuck darling little Davie ..."
Chapter 12
Young Davie Knight was thoroughly caught up in the sucking of Randy's
cock. Her eyes were cloud and her head bobbed up and down furiously as
she reveled in the taste and feel of her handsome lover's throbbing
member. Her energetic sucking of the pistoning prick in her mouth and
the guttural barks that came from her lovely throat all testified to
that. I like it, I love it ... ooohhhh, his big, beautiful penis feels
so wonderful in my mouth, I never thought anything this wicked could
feel so good ... I'm just like Trish now, a sensual woman ... I'm
really a real woman now ... ooohhh ...
Randy thrust his hands in her hair and flexed his hips upward battering
the back of her throat with his cock as he strained for completion.
Davie made no move to pull back from the intense pressure, but ovalled
her tender lips even tighter around his penis, impatient to feel the
white, creamy load of sperm in her aching young throat. She mewled and
moaned like a depraved animal, totally abandoned to the lust that
engulfed her like a naming shroud. Her pussy was quivering with her
wet, cuntal ooze and she wagged her buttocks in the air like a female
cat in heat, as she crouched over the prostrate youth.
Randy was moaning in excited cadence now, staring down at the dark
haired beauty who was slavishly working his cock with her lips. He
could see her taut, firm breasts sway and dance from her chest as she
posted on his prick with her mouth. The pressure of his captive cum
constricted his testicles painfully, the twin blocks of desire slapping
rudely against her chin as though to say, "Hurry up!"
Davie began to nibble the petal-soft casing of his blood-engorged cock
as though it were a delicacy, a treat. She wanted all of it in her
mouth, wanted to make him cum, wanted to taste his hot seed.
Dimly, through his impassioned lust, Randy became aware of vibrations
on the beach ... coming closer ... and closer. Then, his face going
pale with horror, he was looking at the solid figure of Peter Knight,
who was less than five feet away! Trish was right behind him--
sonofabitch, if she didn't do it after all; she brought Davie's old man
here, just like she said she would, and he's naked as a jaybird with
the biggest goddamned hard-on I've ever seen! Oh man, don't fail me
now, Trish! You got here two minutes too soon!
But Randy's fears were needless; Peter Knight looked right past him, as
though he didn't exist. He saw only his daughter, say only her
beautiful sweat-sheered body, her firm, full breasts, her quivering,
upturned buttocks. He stumbled over to her and kneeled beside her,
touching her on the shoulder with his big hand. "Davie, Davie ..." he
called to her in a quavering voice.
The familiar, authoritarian voice cut through the fog of her passion
like a knife. She opened her eyes and loosened her oral hold on Randy's
cock, turning in the direction of the voice. Oh, God ... noooooo! Her
daddy was right here, watching her blow Randy Ferris! He was as naked
as she was!
The young girl gaped at her father, her face wet with saliva. It was
only a dream, an hallucination--that grass was stronger than she
realized--but no, it wasn't; Daddy was right there in the flesh! Her
eyes fastened on the huge, erect penis of the man who had sired her.
She agonized inwardly, Oh nooo, Daddy! I don't want you to see me like
this! Why are you here, Daddy? Why are you naked? Oh God, what's
happening? ...
Their eyes locked, and in that moment the world seemed to dissolve
around father and daughter. A mute message passed between them, a bond
of love so powerful that it demanded immediate consummation in the
strictest physical sense. It was a deeper love, a greater love than
that between a man and a woman, because it also contained the highest
essence of spiritual and paternal love, and both Davie and her father
realized it in that moment; realized that they belonged to each other
in every way.
Peter held his hand out to his daughter and she placed her small hand
in his, and he squeezed it as he smiled at her tenderly and whispered,
"I want to fuck you, Davie. I want to love you, to give myself to you,
the right way. I want to be deep inside you ..."
"Oooooohhhhhh, yes, Daddy, yeeeeeesss!" Davie hissed passionately. She
crawled over Randy's legs and lay down on her back parallel with the
frustrated youth. Then her loving father lay down on top of her,
placing his weight on his elbows, and kissed her passionately on the
mouth, for the first time as a lover. Their tongues curled around one
another's and he stroked her nude softness as she twisted and undulated
under him. He caressed her soft, fevered breasts, kneading her
unblemished young flesh, her delicate nipples, until she mewled with
pleasure into his mouth. Then his hand was moving down, down over her
flat stomach, through the wispy pelt of her pubic hair, finally
touching the erect, pulsing shaft of her clitoris. Davie whimpered in
unrestrained pleasure as her father massaged the tiny, trembling bud
between his thumb and forefinger, her loins beginning to grind down
into the blanket in wild, uncontrolled counterpoint to her father's
lewd fingering.
Now Davie reached down between their bodies and located her daddy's
prick, drawing the satiny skin over the bulbous head, running her
feverish fingers over every centimeter of him, then cupping his massive
bans in her palm and squeezing them against one another very gently.
The teenager was completely lost now in the consuming passion generated
by the fondling of each other's genitals.
She breathed into her father's mouth, crying, "Daddy, do it to me now!
Oh please, Daddy, do it to me now!"
"Yes! Yes, darling. Guide it with your hand, sweetheart. Put it inside
you; put it inside your sweet little pussy, where it belongs ..."
Davie spread her legs and thighs wide apart as her fingers dug into the
moist, sleek surface of her father's penis. And then she was guiding it
toward the small, moist opening of her vagina, using the bulbous head
to part the soft pubic down and the pouting, fleshy lips of her sweet,
tender cunt.
Trish, who was straddling her prostrate brother, was doing the same
thing with her hand: guiding her brother's yearning prick deep inside
her pussy as she sat on top of him, leaning into his hands with her
magnificent breasts. She caught Davie's eye, and gave her a knowing
grin. The flushed teenager grinned back at her--woman-to-woman.
Davie gasped aloud at the sudden electrifying contact of her loving
daddy's hard organ against her damp, sensitive flesh. Knight flicked
his hips lightly forward, not wanting to hurt, wanting only to delight
his daughter, and the young girl felt a sharp little pain from the
stretching pressure of his huge member at the tight entrance of her
almost virginal orifice.
"Aaaaaahhhhhh!" she cried with mixed pain and pleasure.
"Aaaaaaoooooog!" Trish squealed with delight as brother's cock slipped
into her.
Knight pushed forward again, forcing his way into the tightly clenched
opening and racing along the lubricated passage and into her belly
until his heavy, sperm-bloated balls smacked solidly against the
upturned cheeks of her baby-soft buttocks.
"Oooooohhhhhh, Daaaaaadddyyy, Daaaaadddyyyyyy!" she wailed as he flexed
his cock deep inside the tight flesh of her vaginal sheath.
He was inside her, he was fucking his own daughter's hotly sucking
pussy flesh! God, she felt like velvet ... He had never known such
rapture. He knew his little girl loved every inch of his massive prick
that was buried in her warm, wet pussy; that she loved her father
deeper and truer than any woman had ever loved him.
He began a slow, revolving motion with his pelvis, grinding his cock
tightly into his daughter's naked crotch, expanding the walls of her
young pussy even more, and her own buttocks were rotating even more
insanely, demanding harder thrusts from her father's churning loins. He
rocked above her, using short, smooth strokes, and her body reacted in
kind, chills of excitement and rapture spiraling the full length of her
spine as she felt the tempo of his heavy, burgeoning cock in her
throbbing cuntal canal.
Next to them on the blanket, the sultry blonde and her sexy kid brother
were rutting like dogs, both of them lost in the lust that sent them
bucking back and forth against each other's loins.
Quickly, the loving father increased his pace and the length of his
stroke, knowing he couldn't last much longer, feeling the volcano that
was his balls about to erupt. His daughter proved to be more of a match
than he had expected. She raised her wide-spread loins up to him in
simultaneous rhythm to his every downward thrust as her passion-
contorted young face twisted wantonly with her need and desire.
Davie began to toss her head in frenzied, abandoned ecstasy as she lay
impaled on her father's rock-hard shaft, and rapturous little moans
bubbled past her lips. Her father's mouth was fastened to hers again,
and she sucked once more at his tongue, trying to milk it like her
hotly devouring little pussy was milking his deeply pistoning cock--the
brother-sister team was approaching climax.
Peter Knight increased his pace even more, deepening his thrusts as his
beautiful, sexy young daughter writhed wildly beneath him, grinding her
pussy up and down on his cock with incredible fury, her legs twitching,
her toes curling as she lurched upwards, spreading her slender legs
even wider apart and wrapping them around his broad back. He knew she
was getting close and he wanted to cum with her, to feel their juices
commingling in the ultimate expression of fulfilling love.
Suddenly, they both heard Randy's gasping admission: "I'm ... I'm
cuuuuummmmminnmmgig!"
"Yeeeeeesss ... Ohhhhhh, cuuuuummmmm baaaaaabbbyyy. Fill meeeeeeeee,"
Trish answered, bouncing for all she was worth on his jettisoning cock,
her blonde hair whipping across her face as she bucked and flailed her
head wildly.
That did it.
Peter Knight ground his cock into the tender sanctuary of his
daughter's womb and she convulsed beneath him, her mouth opening wide,
her face a caricature of her normally soft and innocent young
loveliness. A cry of pure,
unadulterated delight, of total rapture, echoed from the very core of
her young being.
"AAAAAGGCGGGHHHHH ... D AAAAA DDDDD YYYYY!"
Peter Knight felt his daughter's pussy walls begin to secrete their
warm gushes of wet, sticky fluid around his plundering cock, inundating
his shaft. She was cumming, cumming beautifully, his little girl was
cumming with his cock deep in her belly! With renewed urgency, he
thrust faster, deeper, with all the strength he possessed. He had to
cum with her, he had to!
Suddenly he knew that his own hot sperm was about to race through his
cock to fill his daughter's womb. She jerked wildly, spasming, the
mouth of her cunt sucking at him feverishly. And then his orgasm struck
fully and his balls erupted burning fire, causing his body to tremble
like a man with palsy. His juices spurted from the opening in his
prickhead deep, deep into his daughter's quivering recesses in never-
ending flow, which caused her to moan in spasmodic, indecipherable
cries of delight as his orgasmic fluids mixed with hers to roll around
his jerking cock, fusing them together as lovers in the most ecstatic
sense of the word--father and daughter cumming together in the most
wonderful expression of family unity imaginable!
A long time later--an eternity later--the torrent ended and Davie's
body relaxed, her legs falling limp around her daddy's thighs as he
collapsed onto her. They lay there like that, not moving, not caring
that there were two people lying less than a foot away from them on the
blanket.
"Congratulations!" came the sultry voice of Trish Byers. Both Peter
Knight and his daughter looked over at her simultaneously. She was
smiling victoriously. Randy had a shit-eating grin on his face as he
glanced quickly from Davie's father to the well-fucked young beauty
under him. Davie flushed crimson with embarrassment at first, then she
giggled nervously. Soon all four of them were chuckling over the crazy
circumstances in which they found themselves; circumstances that had
spiraled rapidly from the innocent encounters of less than forty eight
hours ago--well, not exactly innocent, not from Trish Byer's point of
view. But certainly, accidental--her meeting young Davie on the plane.
She congratulated herself on another sexual mission accomplished--
almost. There was still one more phase to see through, one she
desperately wanted to succeed ...
It ad hinged on Davie. If the scheming blonde could make the teenager
see the "wisdom" of her plan, little Davie would certainly be able to
convince her doting daddy. Trish had less than 24 hours--she had to be
back in Nassau for an 8:00 AM flight Monday morning, which meant
getting the shuttle hop tomorrow afternoon at four. She had to get
Davie alone ...
Chapter 13
" ... But remember, Davie, you've got to make your father think it was
all your idea--promise? I want you to get ad the credit, honey," Trish
admonished the pretty young girl over the dining table. It was Saturday
night, and the spacious room was crowded. Peter Knight was busy.
"I promise!" the lovely teen answered, her large hazel eyes aglow with
excitement. "Oh Trish, you're a genius--and a terrific friend! I just
hope Daddy will go for it.
"Sweetie, your father's so knocked out about you, he'd go for anything
you asked. He'd walk on glass for you!" the crafty blonde said, smiling
warmly. "And why shouldn't he go for it? It's the perfect solution to
the problem; a way for you and your daddy to be together forever, with
no hassles from your mother. It's the way we can an have our cake and
eat it, to! ..."
* * *
They lay there together, he with his spent cock still imbedded into her
tightly clasping orifice, overflowing with love for each other, love
which seeped past his now-flaccid tube onto the rumpled bedsheet. He
kissed her deeply again. "I love you so much, darling," he said
tenderly to you.
"Oh Daddy, I love you so much too!" she affirmed again. "And I want to
be with you forever, Daddy. I never want to go back to New York ..."
There was a look of pain in his eyes. Then he hugged her tightly to
him. "I know, my dearest. I don't want you to go back. I couldn't bear
to lose you again. It's just that ... well, I haven't figured out a way
to keep you here after the holidays. I've racked my brain, and
everything I come up with is N.G."
"Daddy ..." she began softly, "I thought of something. It's kind of
extreme, but I think it could work ..."
He raised his head and looked directly at her, his eyebrows raised in
expectation. "Tell me!"
"Well, I was thinking that if you ... if you got married again ..."
"Married! Honey, I don't want a wife, I want you! Besides, that would
ruin everything for us Davie." The handsome man's expression now was
one of bewilderment, hurt.
"No it wouldn't, Daddy, not if you married someone like Trish ..."
"Trish? But ..."
"See, Trish doesn't want to get married either, because of Randy. But
it would be different if she married you, because we've already made
love with them anyway, and I know you do like it in bed with her and
..."
"And you like it in bed with Randy, don't you?"
"Not as much as with you, Daddy--no way. But if you married Trish,
everything would be respectable, and nobody would guess anything about
us, and we'd be able to be together, and ..."
He closed her lips with a kiss. "You're one for the books, honey!
That's the wildest scheme I've ever heard! There's only small problem--
two, actually. First, I'm not in love with Trish, I'm in love with you.
Second, Trish isn't in love with me. What makes you think she would go
for it? Oh, there's another small problem, too. What do we do about
your school?"
"OK," she said excitedly, "in answer to your first question, sir, you
don't have to be in love with Trish, you just have to be in lust with
her--and don't tell me you're not!" she said, her eyes twinkling
devilishly. And you know Trish is in lust with you, Daddy ..."
"That dame's in lust with everybody!" he interjected.
"No, not everybody. Mainly, you and Randy. Now, as far is school is
concerned, Trish says there's a good one in Nassau, the English school.
I could go there for the rest of the year and after that ..."
"Wait a minute--did you and Trish cook this up together?" he asked
suspiciously.
"Well, no ... I was just telling her how much I wanted to stay, but I
knew I had to go back to school, and she said if I wanted to stay with
you I could go to the one in Nassau and stay with her during the week,
and be with you on the weekends. You could afford that, couldn't you,
Daddy?"
"Sure. That's no problem. I could even hop over there during the week
...
"Oh could you, Daddy, would you? Oh, that would be wonderful. Then it's
OK? Ooohhh, Daaaaaadddyyy!" she squealed gleefully, throwing her naked
arms around his neck and squeezing her firm breasts against his hairy
chest. She kissed him hard on the lips, her pointed pink tongue snaking
into his mouth to lave his oral member and suck it the way she had
sucked his cock later on the beach that afternoon, with Trish and Randy
doing some heated sixty-nine right next to them.
Peter Knight felt his penis stir to instant life again inside his
daughter's velvety young pussy. She squeezed her vaginal muscles around
his burgeoning prick, encouraging him once more to show his deep love
for her. Wriggling her lithe young body enticingly beneath him, she
looked up at her father with the most innocent, the most guileless sort
of expression; one he found totally irresistible. "It is OK, isn't it
Daddy? Please say you'll ask Trish to marry you and that you'll put me
in the English school, so that I can stay with you forever. Please, oh
please." He flexed his fully hardened cock inside her delicate cunt,
reveling in the warm, buttery, tightly clenching softness of her. Then
he smiled at her again. "You know something, young lady? If I didn't
know you better, I'd say you've picked up a few tricks from your
stepmother-to-be already!"
Postscript
The wedding took place on December 31st, in a quaint, little church in
Nassau, with Davie as Maid of Honor and Randy as Best Man. After the
ceremony, Randy put his arms around the radiant bride and bridegroom's
shoulders and quipped, "Isn't it great, now we're gonna be just one,
big, happy fucking family!"
And they were--one big, happy, fucking family ... with darling little
Davie the center of it all!
The End
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