"Putting Out For Pop" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bangcroft Nan)

Chapter 1

Micaela Kelly tried to still the fluttering in her guts and braced herself to ask the question. If the answers were wrong, her hopes for the afternoon with Chris would crumble. She wasn't planning to go all the way with him, of course. But if Gabby and Patty insisted on sticking around the house, nothing at all would happen.

"What are you two planning on doing this afternoon?" 'Caela asked, trying to sound casual.

Patty looked up from her study of her budding breasts. She had been wondering if she could slip upstairs and get rid of her bra before going out. "This being the first day of summer vacation, I thought I'd go to the pool," she answered.

"I've got a special dance class," Gabby said, not looking up from the book she was reading.

"Okay. But be sure you're both back in time for supper," 'Caela answered, feeling her tits harden inside her bra. "You know how worried Daddy gets."

The two younger girls grunted. Patty was now studying her reflection in the mirror by the front door. She pulled her T-shirt tight over her little tits and surveyed the effect.

"I'm getting worried about Daddy," 'Caela noted as she wielded the dust rag. "I think he's getting horny."

"Daddy? Horny?" Patty asked skeptically.

"Horny?" Gabby echoed.

"He needs a woman," 'Caela explained, not sure her younger sisters had understood the term.

"Yeah. He needs to get laid," Patty said, startling 'Caela but barely disturbing Gabby's concentration on her book.

"Patty! Where'd you hear language like that?" 'Caela demanded.

"Just because you've been in a convent for years, it doesn't mean I have," Patty snorted, with all the sassy wisdom of a fifteen-year-old. There were only two years between her and ‘Caela.

"It wasn't a convent," ‘Caela retorted. "You better not let Daddy hear you talking that way.”

"What do you think I am, anyway, dumb?" Patty asked.

"You really want me to answer that?" ‘Caela retorted. "Anyway, it's been a long, long time since Mom died. Daddy's never even dated anyone.”

"Maybe he's queer," Patty suggested.

"Patty! He married Mom and fathered us," ‘Caela answered, scandalized.

"Yeah, but… ”

‘Caela cut her off before she could continue. "Anyway, if you'd noticed the way he looked at me this morning, you'd know he wasn't queer.”

"Got the hots for you, huh?" Patty asked, enjoying the effect she was having on ‘Caela. "Probably got a hard-on, the way you flounced around in next to nothing.”

"Daddy hears you talking like that, he'll give you a real tanning," ‘Caela answered, refusing to be baited any further. "Have you both made your beds?”

"Uh-huh," Gabby grunted.

"Do I haveta?" Patty whined.

"Yes, you 'hafta,' " ‘Caela echoed. "Now go upstairs and do it, before you leave.”

"Are you really worried about Daddy?" Gabby asked, looking up from her book as Patty went up the stairs.

"Oh, go back to your book," ‘Caela ordered. "You wouldn't know about stuff like that.”

Gabby shrugged, and obeyed.

Upstairs, Patty shut the door behind her, and glared at the tangle of sheets, blankets, bedspread, dirty socks and underpants, and stuffed animals. It was such a gross contrast to the neatness of Gabby's half of the room, it made her want to puke. Then, with a wicked gleam in her eye, she set about unmaking, and then remaking Gabby's bed. After making sure it looked as neat as it had before, she dragged hers into a semblance of order, pushed the dirty laundry underneath, and arranged the stuffed animals so they hid most of the wrinkles.

Then she yanked her T-shirt off over her head. She stripped off her bra and studied her developing boobs. Golly, she could almost see them getting bigger. She hoped she'd be big-titted, like ‘Caela, and not have silly little half-globes like Gabby did. She pulled her T shirt over her head.

By draping a towel over her shoulders she could hide the alert buds of her nipples from ‘Caela. Then, at the pool, Al O'Brian was sure to be interested when she switched the towel to her hand. She started looking for a bathing suit. She wanted her tank suit-the one that showed so much.

As she washed the morning dishes, ‘Caela thought about being alone with Chris Duffy. She would have to be careful that he didn't lose control of himself. She could defuse him of course, but didn't want to make him mad.

Then she thought of her father, and frowned. He had had a hard-on, as Patty had so crudely put it ‘Caela hadn't meant to have that effect on him. She had overslept and dashed down in just her shorty pajamas to fix his breakfast. He had seen the thrust of her lush breasts, the way they had jiggled and joggled, Her nipples had been stiff from the morning chill. The knot in his pants had been hard to ignore.

The sight of it had made ‘Caela's insides get all hot and wet. She had never imagined he would be interested in her that way. She was his own daughter, after all. It wasn't fair to torment him when he didn't have any outlet for his horniness, she decided. He must be incredibly frustrated.

Joan Peterson curled in her boss's lap as his hand crushed her breast. Hot waves burned through her. Her nipple got pebble-hard on her soft boob. As he fondled her, Mike Kelly began unbuttoning her trim white blouse. As he bared the pale mound of one graceful breast, he couldn't help thinking of the lush sway of ‘Caela's tits. His cock felt like it was going to burst, it was so swollen and hard.

"Mmmm, what's that I feel?" Joan purred, her fingers tickling along his aching hard-on, measuring it through his pants.

Mike didn't have the heart to tell her it wasn't entirely on account of her. Instead, he fastened his lips on her bared nipple, nipping the hard brown bud. His tongue flicked the button tip and he felt her chest rise as she sucked in a deep breath.

Joan's skilled fingers found the tab of his fly and eased the zipper down. The slow tic-tic-tic-tic of the teeth of the zipper made his balls twinge. Her hand dug into his underpants, enfolding his cock in her warm slender fingers.

Mike groaned as his dick seeped burning fluid. Her thumb smeared it over the soft, nerve-loaded tip of his dick. His hand slid up the inside of her thigh, up along the satin smooth flesh. He felt the tight, wiry curls of her snatch and teased them delicately. Then he located her warm, humid grotto with his fingertips.

"How come your husband lets you out of the house with no panties?" Mike asked.

Joan's voice was low and throaty. "It gets him turned on to think of me this way," she answered. "Sometimes he sits across the bus from me on the way to work, and I flash my cunt at him. Ohhhh.”

Mike felt her grip on his pecker tighten as his finger slid up into her hot, moist tunnel. His thumb found the little nubbin of her clit. He teased it gently, felt it roll and squirm as he rubbed it back and forth across her pubic arch. Joan let go of his cock long enough to unbuckle his belt and the waist of his pants. Prying her hand into his underpants, she dug down, locating his balls in their warm sack.

Lifting his slender, yet buxom, secretary off his lap, Mike rucked her skirt up around her waist. He sat her on the edge of his desk in front of him. Her thighs gaped open, showed her brown muff. Splitting it was the slit of her pussy. A ruffle of pink lips protruded hungrily. As she reached down to stroke his cock, he parted her snatch with his fingers, revealing the glistening heart of her twat. It was all laid out before him: the hooded nubbin of her clit, then the tiny opening of her pisser, and below that the delectable funnel of her vagina.

The scent of her excitement was thick and strong. He leaned toward her twat. His mouth fastened on her clit and she moaned and fell backwards on his desk. He sucked hard on her clit, then stroked it with his tongue. Her hips began to roll and heave. Her fingers clutched his head, gripped his steel-gray curls.

As he ate his secretary, he thought about his three daughters. The corner of his mind called the "id" kept wondering what their pussies looked like. How much hair did fifteen-year-old Patty have on her honey slit? Any? What color was sixteen-year-old Gabby's snatch? Blonde like her thick long hair, or pale red? What would seventeen-year-old Caela's thick seepings taste like? What would her youthful cunt feel like clutching his throbbing phallus?

Heaving free of Joan's grasp, Mike stood up and shoved his pants down around his powerful legs. Joan lay there on his desk, her breasts squashed out by their own weight. Her dark nipples jutted up anxiously, denying the force of gravity. Her blouse was spread out on the green blotter. Her head was actually hanging off the far side. Her sleek, tan thighs were spread wide. The distended inner lips of her twat beckoned his prod.

Bending the pale, veined shaft of his cock, he guided the pink/purple knob, gleaming with his lubricants, to the flowered heart of her brown twat. He groaned at the feel of her wiry cunt curls scratching his nerve endings. Then the head was embraced by the soft, hot, clinging folds of her hole. Looking down, he watched as the sculpted length of his cock sank into her slippery depths. Then his jet-black bush mingled and tangled with her dark brown one, and he heard her moan.

Reaching forward, he put his hands on the outer slopes of her breasts, then lifted and squashed them, molded them to produce a deep cleavage. As his thumbs raked over the rubbery brown nubbins, her head rolled from side to side and her mouth twisted with lust.

He had never understood her eagerness to fuck with him. He knew she loved her husband. But, he didn't question his good fortune. Joan's signals had been unmistakable from the moment he had hired her. The first time had been like this, on the top of his desk, the glare of the fluorescent ceiling lights making her lush, heavy breasts look pale as alabaster.

Drawing back, he watched his cock slide out, tugging at her folds. It was shining with her juices. She reached down, parted her pussy lips, and fingered her clitoris as he slid his dick back into her searing depths. His hands bruised her breasts as he slowly pistoned his cock in and out of her clutching tunnel.

He kept thinking of ‘Caela. He hadn't realized until that morning how gracefully mature her legs were, and how much of them there was. The crotch of her pajama panties had been bunched up. Her twat had been just a faint shadow. Mike rammed his cock hard into Joan's cunt, tried to blot from his mind the memory of ‘Caela's silhouette under the translucent fabric. For one brief exciting moment she had stood in front of the window… in profile, showing the heavy sag of her mature boobs.

Mike's groin jammed hard into Joan's crotch. The sun spilling in the window drenched her semi-clothed, wantonly bared body, burning his hands and her tits. The cum was gathering in his gut. The reservoir got larger and larger as he stroked his cock in her tunnel. The friction of her cunt made his prick get hotter and hotter.

"Oh, Mike!" Joan groaned. "Cum with me, Mike, cum with me!”

Panting harshly, Mike watched his phallus piston in her slick cylinder, watched her slender fingers diddle and roll her clit. His bush tangled with hers, then freed itself, then tangled again. His balls slapped her ass with every stroke. He was getting closer and closer. The •pool of cum was getting more and more impatient.

"Cum," Joan pleaded. "I want to feel you cum In me!”

"Gonna," Mike granted. "Jesus! Here it comes!”

His cock flared hot as the sun as the semen ripped along it. His groin knotted ecstatically as it emptied the creamy wads into her spasming tunnel. Joan was whimpering and her head was flailing from side to side. He drove at her, hard. His ass cheeks clenched, squeezing out every searing spurt of jizm as his crotch pushed against hers. He leaned forward as she lifted her legs and folded them. The head of his phallus touched the end of her shaft, and the last of his cum pressed against his dick tip.

With a groan, releasing her bruised breasts, he stretched out on top of her. As he pinned her to the desk, he felt her hands between his pubic arch and hers. Her twisted skirt was a lumpy rope between them. His shirt buttons grated between their sweaty skins. His cock squirmed, shooting one last hot dribble of semen into her searing sleeve.

"I don't know what got into you this morning," Joan sighed as she dragged her hands out from between them. "But I sure hope it happens again.”

Mike grunted, and concentrated on the feel of his prick sliding out of her cunt as it shriveled. He didn't want to think of ‘Caela and his incestuous lust for her.

Finally, it was over and done with, and he was alone in his office again. After the fuck Joan had stood in front of him, grinning wickedly. She had arranged her skirt over her sodden pussy, then buttoned her rumpled blouse, concealing her big breasts. After taking the signed letters from his "Out" basket, she had sauntered out. Her hips had swayed languidly and there was contentment in every line of her body.

Turning his back on his desk so he wouldn't see the dark stain on the blotter, Mike thought about his three daughters. He was afraid he had put his birds and the bees lecture off too long. Katherine had died ten years ago, and even ‘Caela had of course been too young, then. Now, probably, she was too old for him to-clue her in on the facts of life. Anyway, it wasn't the kind of topic that a man usually has to talk with his daughters about.

Maybe it wasn't too late, though. She'd had a good upbringing, after all, church on Sundays, and a good strict school until the move here. Maybe she was physically far beyond her psychology? It was a thin hope- but she had never given any indication she was really aware of sex.

Gabby and Patty were still virgins, of course. But he was going to have to take the bit between his teeth and tell them what he hadn't told ‘Caela. There wasn't any doubt that the public school they were going to now had an entirely different social atmosphere.

He felt reasonably confident they could take care of themselves. It was a good thing, with the entire summer stretching ahead of them, and his having to work as hard as possible to build his new clientele.

He wondered how the girls were spending the day.

‘Caela was biting her lower lip as Chris Duffy crossed the room toward her. His cock was bobbing and waving heavily. She couldn't take her eyes off it When he'd said he was a nudist, and asked if it was all right to take all his clothes off, she had felt as if she had been punched in the stomach-but in a nice way. Her chest had gotten all tight, making it hard to say, "Sure, okay by me.”

Now he was tensely walking toward her, his clothes in a heap in her father's easy chair. There was so much of him. He was all tan, except for where his bathing suit usually covered him. He had no hair on his chest at all, but there was a big curly bush of it around the base of his cock. And under his cock were two lumps in a funny, dusky bag. His cock was-was, immense, and stiff and hard. It was dribbling some sticky, clear fluid. It was absolutely gorgeous. The sight of it was making her insides feel all funny, all hot and soft and tense.

It was like the way Daddy's hard-on had made her feel that morning. Only more so.

"How about you?" Chris asked. His voice sounded funny through the ringing in her ears.

"Huh? What?”

"How about you? Aren't you going to get naked?" Chris asked. He reached for the soft drink he had left on the coffee table.

"Uh, no, don't think so," ‘Caela stammered.

"Why not? Besides, it hardly seems fair for me to be this way, and you to stay dressed," he pointed out.

"I'm not a nudist," ‘Caela answered. "I'm not used to it, the way you are." She was beginning to think that maybe inviting Chris over when she was the only one home hadn't been such a good idea after all.

"Well, suit yourself. Sure is a lot more comfortable this way, though. Clothes are a real pain.”

"Maybe," she answered, managing not to flinch away when he sat down beside her on the couch. She kept looking at his cock. God, it was big!

He slid his arm around her shoulders and drew her against his naked body. She folded her arms, afraid to let her bare arm touch his naked thigh. Then he put his cola down, and touched her chin, turning her head.

When his lips touched hers it was like a river of fire was pouring from him to her. His tongue touched her lips, and she felt her mouth parting to let him in. He began stroking the side of her neck, then eased his hand down toward her breast. She wanted him to stop, but also didn't want him to stop. She kept her arms folded. They were sort of across and under her breasts.

His fingers pried between her arm and her boob, squashing her soft soft flesh, wrinkling the lace cup of her bra. The pressure against her nipple made the fire in her guts burn even hotter. She let her arms loosen a little, and felt his warm, hard, strong hand engulf her breast. Reflexively, she tightened her arms, which increased the pressure on her tit. A fold of her bra pinched, made her nipple ache and burn.

And all the time she was feeling the heat of his naked body next to hers. She was kissing him: his tongue was deep in her mouth. She closed her eyes. All she could think of was his towering hard-on, that pale ivory column of meat, with its pink head and seeping slit.

God, she loved the touch of his Hand on her breast! And then it was gone. The kiss ended, and she was again facing the impatient tower of his cock. His fingers touched the top button of her blouse. She shuddered deep inside, where he couldn't see it.

"I love you," he murmured. She loved hearing him say it, though she knew it was a lie.

She unfolded her arms, letting him unbutton her blouse. When he opened it, she felt cool air touch her flesh. His hand curled over her breast, closer now, separated from her by only a thin layer of lace.

She touched his naked thigh, felt its hairy hardness. She thought she could feel the heat from his cock.

He kissed her again. His grip on her breast got harder, stronger, more demanding. It was more exciting, too. When his other hand dragged her blouse back off her shoulder, she squirmed her arm out of it. A brief struggle and her blouse was a rumpled lump behind her. His hand slid from her breast, around to her side. She twisted toward him, thinking he wanted to hug her. She reached out, put her other arm around him, and bumped her fingers against the scalding tip of his dick. Desperately, she clutched at his ribs.

His fingers touched the clasp of her bra. She crushed herself against him, and felt him pinch the hooks, felt her bra come loose. Then his hand was seeking up her naked torso, shoving her bra aside, taking possession of her breast.

"So soft," he moaned as he fondled her lush, warm, yielding boob. He dipped his head suddenly, and his mouth fastened on her nipple. She thought she was going to die! Her thighs opened and closed spasmodically as he sucked on her tit. His tongue felt like red-hot sandpaper on her pink, berry like nubbin. She groaned way down deep in her throat. Her panties and shorts felt tight and uncomfortable against her pussy.

Blindly, she reached down. And felt his rock-hard cock! Her fingers bent around the hot, stiff prod. Never in her life had she felt anything like it. It was so hard on the inside, and so soft on the outside! Something hot and slippery and wet made her hand stick to his flesh. She squeezed, and felt a fresh wave of fluid drip down over her fingers.

His fingertips probed at the waist of her shorts. She knew she should tell him to stop. Instead, she sucked in her gut and fumbled with the snap and zipper, actually opened the waist of her shorts for him. His fingers dug into her soft tummy, pushed her panties down, then slipped inside them. Her belly tightened, her hips shifted, and she felt a stinging tugging as his fingers invaded the forest of her snatch.

He sucked his mouth away from one tit, and fastened it on the other. Then his hand took over on the spit-slick one his mouth had just left. The multi-pronged assault was making her senses reel, making her inhibitions crumble. And way down deep inside was a core of fear that was growing stronger and stronger.

"No,” she moaned as his finger wedged into her slit. "No. Stop!” she wailed as he penetrated her. Suddenly, a stinging pain cut through her burning lust. "Stop!” she screamed, terror raging through her. She pushed him away.

"I-I'm sorry," she moaned as he recoiled from her, angry and puzzled. "I’ve never done it," she confessed, feeling somehow diminished by the admission.

"You mean, you're a virgin?" Chris asked, stunned.

Micaela nodded, and huddled defensively over herself.

"Gee, I'm sorry," Chris apologized. "I didn't know. Honest.”

"You're not-angry?" she asked timidly.

"Angry? No, I'm just surprised.”

"I-can't do it," she whispered. "I'm sorry, but I just can't. Can you understand? Do you mind?" She didn't look at him, but out of the corner of her eye she could see his cock. It was still hard, still sticky and wet.

"I-guess so," he said reluctantly. "I mean, I can see your being scared-of getting pregnant. Stuff like that. I don't have anything to make it safe, either.”

It wasn't getting pregnant that scared her, but she didn't say so. He was a boy, and wouldn't understand. "I'm sorry I got you so turned on," she apologized. "I didn't mean to be a tease.”

"I know," he answered, with surprising tenderness. "I do love you, you know.”

"And I love you, too," she answered, and they kissed, and everything was wonderful again. She reached for his cock. She loved the feel of its heat and hardness.

"You could-uh-jack me off," he suggested hesitantly.

"Jack you off?”

"Do me with your hand," he explained. "I don't know how," she whispered. "I'd like to. But I don't know how.”

"Like this," he said, showing her how to move her hand up and down his cock.

"It's so big," she noted, following his directions. She slowly moved her hand up and down his pecker. The skin wrinkled and slid over the heart of it.

"Use your other hand, too. Over the head of it," he moaned.

"Like this?" she asked, amazed by the feel of the tip of his prick. It was soft and rubbery. His slick juices made her hand slide all over. She leaned forward, watching her hand massaging his cock.

"Yeah, like that," he moaned. "Oh, wow! Don't stop. Don't stop. Faster!”

Her hands made a sticky sound as she pumped his dong faster and faster. She had one wrapped around the shaft. With the fingers of the other she made a teepee, so the head of his cock pushed against her palm on the down stroke, hitting her fingers on the upstroke.

"Yeah," he grunted. "Yeah, yeah." His hips began humping. "Gonna cum. Gonna cum!”

The cock in her fingers swelled, and erupted. A thick, gooey wad of something spurted against her palm, streamed down over her fingers. It was followed by another, and another, and another, until she was being flooded. With every shot the cock pulsed and jerked, and Chris's hips heaved upwards.

'Caela snuggled against him, and held his shriveling, satisfied cock. His semen was thick and wet on her hands and the air was rich with the musky scent of it. She thought of the lump in her father's pants that morning, and knew, all of a sudden, who she wanted to have her cherry.

Farthest from her mind at that point was what her sisters were doing. All she cared was that she was safe from their coming home and catching her like this with Chris. They had the whole afternoon ahead of them.

"I'll get a towel," she announced calmly. Once out of the room, she shed her bra. After a moment's thought, she also stripped off her shorts and panties. She was no longer afraid of being naked with Chris. His eyes lit up when she came back into the room. She wiped the cum off her hands, then cleaned him up.

"You're beautiful," he said softly.

"Thank you.”

"You're sure no one'll interrupt us?”

"We're safe for hours. Patty's at the pool, and Gabby has a dance lesson. They always take all afternoon.”

"What about your father?”

"He'll be working until six at least," ‘Caela answered. "Come on, I'm hungry.”