"The blackmailed mother book I" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jensen Peter)

CHAPTER ONE

A light drizzle and a leaded sky with scudding clouds greeted Lonnie Carmel when she awoke in the half light of the early morning. She had left the bedroom window open slightly, and the cool air which blew through the crack rustled the flowers on the nightstand and rippled across the thin sheet which covered her. She stirred; frowning at first as she unconsciously tried to cover herself with more, then became fully awake and saw that the blanket was knotted at the foot of the bed.

Damnation, she thought, sitting up abruptly to grab the blanket. Another night of tossing and turning. She hated to sleep alone, and that was the problem. Her husband, Roger, was gone on another trip. Business, always business, him and his new job at Skopos, Incorporated. He never had time to be a husband to her any more, and she… well, she was little more than a pretty doll for him to use when he was around. She wasn't a wife, she was just someone – almost like a whore – for him to have sex with, always available.

Piqued, she stopped unfolding the blanket. Sleep was gone now, impossible in spite of the early hour of the morning. She stretched languidly on the bed, releasing the last of her stupor.

Lonnie Carmel was a wife any man would be proud to have. Her husband called her a "sex machine that can cook", and said it with a grin. Her long, raven-black hair cascaded down over her shoulders as she stretched, curled around her full breasts and made a contrast to her blush-red nipples and aureole. Her breasts were still firm and taut, even though she was the mother of a fifteen-year-old daughter, and she was increasingly glad that she had followed her doctor's regimen when Jennifer was born. The exercises she'd done faithfully had prevented the slightest trace of stretch marks from the birth, and she could walk around in a bikini and still look like she was Jennifer's older sister and not her mother.

The sheet had slid down to her girlish waist and her round, tapered thighs. She kicked the sheet aside with her long, slim legs and stood up, flouncing her hair and yawning. She was naked, as she always slept; naked and desirable. Her face went well with her body, a sort of pouty, sensual, flirtatious look about it with its small nose and full ripe mouth and large hazel eyes. There was nothing aloof about her; it was pure animal, pure female.

Lonnie giggled to herself as she crossed to the window and shut it. A little shiver of delight passed through her stomach as she recalled the number of men who stared at her, their eyes and the bulge in their loins hard and wanting. And of their propositions even though most of them knew that she was married – not that she had ever been unfaithful. Of course, a little coy flirting never hurt anybody, and it made her feel so good. She'd never let the game get out of hand, and she didn't intend to, but it was nice to know that a woman of her years could still attract, still arouse men on a basic, primitive level.

Not that her husband seemed to take all that notice. Damn, damn – how long had it been this time since she'd had Roger inside her? She leaned on the window sill and stated out at the wind-whipped yard and answered herself: too long. If it hadn't been for the bright visits and constant chatter of her best friend, Cylvia Oliss – who also happened to be the wife of Skopos' vice-president in charge of marketing – well, if it hadn't been for Cylvia to help take her mind off things, Laurie didn't know what she would have done, how she could have managed this long…

When Lonnie had called herself a whore, it had been with a slight tingle, a secret thrill the way forbidden thoughts can do. She enjoyed the sex which she gave her husband, wanted and needed it, and was at the moment naked and desirable – and desiring.

"Hurry up, Roger," she moaned aloud to herself. "Hurry up and get home." Roger was due in sometime today and she ached to see him again. It was always like this, when he was gone. Not so bad at first, but progressively more frustrating until by the day he leas expected back, she was nearly crazy with her anticipations and pent-up needs. I could have him make love to me from now until Christmas without stopping, she groaned inwardly.

She smiled ironically as she turned from the window and lay down on the bed again. Her mother had given her interesting advice when she'd first married, advice which was now a sore point between her and Roger. Her mother'd said: "You keep a man with good looks and a hot body. Anything else he can buy in a store." Sure – only you needed the opportunity to use that burning little trap between the legs.

The opportunity was going to come in a little while, she hoped. The very thought of Roger taking her, spreading her thighs and hammering his hardened penis long and deep inside her belly was exciting. She cupped her breasts as she sat on the bed, examining the nipples, slightly startled at the way they suddenly began to harden. She moved back so that she could lean against the head rest and look down at them and tweak the nipples between her thumbs and fingers until they were fully enlarged. It was overwhelming her, this manipulation of her sensitive breasts, just as it always had. Some women aren't aroused by their breasts being touched, others are teased only if their nipples are softly stroked. But Lonnie had always had nerve endings more exposed than most; sometimes even wearing a brassiere sent waves of delicious feelings soaring through her.

Now, as she stared down at the white globes jutting from her, she was doubly excited by the realization that soon, very soon, her husband would be placing his hands on them, caressing them, kissing them hotly… With a low mewl of passion, she let one hand slowly move from her breasts and down her smooth, flat plane of a stomach, down to the soft curling fleece of her pubic triangle, then out around her thighs and buttocks, then dipping once more to the lips of her pussy. Closing her eyes against the guilt in her mind she let her fingers open the swollen, moist lips, part the pubic hair, and slide in, finding the clitoris waiting and eager. She circled the quivering bud, spreading the rising juices in a slow caress, groaned softly between clenched teeth as her probing finger felt its way to her open, wet cunt-hole. Her thighs widened to her squirming touch, and she pinched the tender pink skin of her vaginal lips and mouth, luxuriating in the sharp pain as her hips jerked upwards.

Then she jammed her fingers into her hungry pussy, and she pressed herself tightly to the mattress as she masturbated, writhing and twisting, her thighs pumping in time to her plunging fingers. The cords of her neck stood out and the mattress squeaked as she lashed and bucked with the fever of her sexual urgings.

"Oh… God… oh God," she moaned. She felt like a panther, rubbing herself this way, and she knew that if just the thought of Roger returning did this to her, his real arrival would be absolute heaven. "Oh… God… I want… Roger!"

Suddenly she heard a car stop in front of the home, and a door slam. In another moment, the car slipped into gear and sped away. Who could that be? she asked herself, her hand frozen in midstroke, still in her cunt. Is it Roger? He's taken a taxi home?

As if in answer, the front door of the house opened loudly, and she heard the familiar sound of his footsteps. She quickly removed her toying fingers and whipped the sheet over her. A warm flush ripped through her… Roger, Roger, hurry to me, please… I need you so much right now. Then the bedroom door banged, and a muscular, tall man with cropped brown hair and a round, open face entered, his hands gripping the handles of two suitcases. "Hi, honey!" he said breathlessly: "Took the first flight I could." He dropped the bags just inside the door and came toward her. "Boy, it's good to be home again."

"Shh," she said. "You'll wake Jennifer." She laughed delightedly. "Shut the door and come here and give your wifey a big kiss. God! How I've missed you!"

He did as she asked, and then his arms were around her and her lush lips were against his as she claw to him. "Darling… darling," she whispered in his ear. "I love you, my darling."

Roger kissed his wife again, then pulled away from her. "I don't have much time. Have to be at the office, you know." He grinned at her and began to loosen his shirt and tie. "Just enough time for a quick shower and change."

"Business," she pouted. "Why don't you spend sometime with your wife any more? Are you tired of her?"

"Lonnie, you know better to that," Roger said. He stood up, freeing himself from the near-tentacle grasp of his fevered wife. He unbuckled his pants and removed his shirt. "That's why I took the early flight, just so I could see you."

Impulsively, she let the sheet fall away from her nude body and stretched out, letting his eyes feast on the thighs and breasts and legs he loved so well. She raised one leg and let it part so he could see the black pubic hair, slightly damp from her fingerings, and her teasingly puffed vaginal lips. "All of me, Roger?" she asked in a husky voice. Little butterfly sensations flitted in her tummy as she saw the effect her display was having on her husband. She licked her lips. She felt so wicked; but he was her husband after all!

Roger Carmel gaped with utter fascination at the breathtaking sight of his wife stretched out so wantonly on the bed. It was a replica of the vision he had beheld the previous two weeks as he'd lay in his motel bed and stared at the yellowed ceiling and wished his cock was in something warm and moist like her cunt and his arms were tight around her as he spewed his seed into her womb. It was an erotic spectacle and he swallowed tightly.

"… Lonnie…" he whispered hoarsely. He dropped his pants, and stepped out of them, leaving them to puddle with his shirt and shoes on the floor. He was now only in his underpants and socks, and his cock began to thicken with pulsing blood, hardening from the lascivious sight of his wife tantalizingly smiling at him. He glanced at the clock on the dresser. There wasn't time… he had to get to work.

With a frustrated moan, he tore his eyes from her and walked stiff-legged to the bathroom. "Tonight, honey. Tonight we'll make love. I'd, I'd like to now… but there's not enough time."

Lonnie wanted to cry with the overwhelming agony inside her. She'd done everything she could to interest him, and still his business was more important. She fought back tears of frustration as she heard the shower go on and her husband step into the tub and pull the curtain closed. Again she touched her throbbing vagina, gently managing the warm flesh. She rubbed harder and harder as the spray in the bathroom beat a tattoo against the tub, and she felt her cunt palpitate against the palm of her hand with heavy sexual excitement. Then the shower ended, and after a few moments, Roger reappeared, rubbing the drops of water away with a large bathtowel.

"Roger," Lonnie groaned, her voice provocative and husky. "Roger, don't get dressed… please, not yet."

Roger came over to the bed. "Honey, you've got to understand. I've only got an hour."

The sight of his soft cock, nestled against his balls incited still further passion from the starved young woman. She patted the bed beside her. "Sit down, Roger. Just for a minute. That's all. Spend a minute with me."

Her husband sat on the edge of the mattress as if he was giving himself running room to escape. He couldn't keep his eyes off Lonnie, in spite of his vow to be on time at the office. There was so much to do… the meeting scheduled for ten… But right before him was the sensuous, squirming details of her nakedness resplendently clear, from her erotic red nipples downward to the delicate triangle of soft, black pubic hair beneath her still flat, almost virginal white plane of her abdomen.

"Darling, don't I please you any more?" she said plaintively. Her hand was encircling his waist now and slowly slid over his hips and thighs and into his loins. He groaned with the sensations of her feather-light touch. The erection which had half begun when he'd first undressed and she'd displayed her body so salaciously had gone down in the shower. When he'd emerged from the bathroom, toweling himself dry, his cock was thoroughly limp and his thoughts were entirely on what he and his assistant, Martin Oliss, were going to say at the meeting.

But now he found that he couldn't move from the bed. His penis did all the moving – straight up, leaping into full, raging erection. His wife's hand was around it now, tenderly stroking it up and down as only she could, and then she took his heavy testicles and softly rolled them between her fingers.

She looked up at him, smiling cattishly. "You like what I'm doing, Roger darling?"

Roger didn't answer. He couldn't, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. His heart hammered with the beating of his transformation from businessman to lover… there was no way of stopping it, he realized. His cock's large hardness couldn't be denied. Neither could his wife. He glanced at the clock with agonized eyes. He wasn't going to make that meeting at this rate.

Then, suddenly he didn't care. His wife's ministrations and sensuous provocations were too much. Nothing else mattered to him now but plunging his aching cock into her delightful flesh, and Roger reached for Lonnie, his hand slipping gently beneath her dark tresses and drawing her head to him. Their lips met momentarily and then broke apart… reaching out but not quite touching. He drew her closer, grasping her lower lips between his teeth and pulling the moist, soft flesh into his mouth… his teeth slipped off and his lips enfolded her as he sucked her lips into her mouth.

"Darling… darling," she murmured as he sucked.

Lonnie felt a tingling shock run icily into her. Her darting tongue wedged beyond his lips, back inside, over the roof, and across the front of his teeth, caressing… always caressing.

Roger leaned forward, his momentum carrying them both back onto the pillow and he crushed his mouth harder against hers, his arms pressing her to the pillow. He raised himself and rolled, half sitting, so that he was beside her. Lonnie lay back against the sheets obediently, her arms wide and her legs slightly spread…

"Yes, Roger," she whispered softly, her lashes shadowing her cheeks as she closed her eyes. "Please take me… take me…"

"Yes, yes…" he managed to say. He ran his hands over her throbbing breasts and down her belly, into the sob, fleshy folds of her cunt where moments before she had played with herself.

Lonnie moaned, her body alive to his caresses. Her creamy satin skin was a lamina of hot desire. God! she wanted him! Her body cried out to be loved tenderly and totally… as he was doing now. She wanted him to merge with her, crawl up inside her and possess her and quell the raging torrents that were building up in the very depths of her soul from his maddening strokings. Dear Lord, her husband – the only man she could give herself to without fear of guilt – was making her deliriously happy.

"Oh yessss," she whimpered. "Oh yes, Roger, touch me there. There… oh yes, therrrrre!" she moaned, helplessly caught up in the tingling pricks of lust that were dancing through her. She sensed the dewdrops of moisture rising between her open thighs as the exposed hair-lined lips of her pussy began to spasmodically contract wetly against one another. Roger ran the tip of his tongue around the rim of her ear and plunged it deep inside. Her whole being seemed aflame with a febrility of surging senses. She couldn't wait much longer or she would go mad!

"Ohhhhh!" she cried. "I want you inside me! Now darling! Now!"

Lonnie twisted her husband's hair, pulling him violently over her. "Please, darling! Please!"

The strange obscenity of her passion-filled pleas excited Roger to a frenzied, blinding furor. He sensed his cock and testicles aching with blood-filled lust, and then suddenly grow flame-hot as one of his wife's hands closed like a steel trap over the thick, glistening penis. It pulsed wickedly against the palm of her hand as the slid up and down the hard flesh, and insane with lust, he didn't need further urging. He grabbed her jutting breasts and rolled on top of her, her legs wide and cradling his hips. The flowering lips of her cunt widened, and she guided his hardened cock to the wetness between her legs, her groans of desperate agony seething in his ear. She rubbed his swollen penis along her open pink slit and parted the soft, resilient pubic hair unto it was nestled teasingly in the entrance to her vagina.

Her husband clamped his fingers into the full cheeks of her buttocks and rammed his body downward. His swelling cock disappeared into her cuntal tunnel with a wet sucking sound.

Lonnie groaned. Her body tightened into an arch of hardened passion at the initial entry split the walls of her vagina. Then she writhed under the rising heat of her delirious sensations, her belly squirming. She raised up under the pressure of his fingers, the glistening prick sliding out until its coronal ridge caught at the straining lips of her cunt, then surged in again. Up and down, faster and faster… and Lonnie's face contorted with passion and her nostrils flared open as her breath burned her lungs.

Roger felt the smooth raw flesh of his passion-aroused wife's pussy clasp him tightly, pulse against his pumping shaft until his balls felt ready to explode, and he lost all track of time as the excruciating pleasure rocked through him. He drove deeper and deeper into her vagina with each thrust of his buttocks. His wife twisted her head from side to side, flaying her hair against the white pillow, and rode his cock like a bitch in heat. She drove her hips up, screwing every inch of his cock and routing the huge head around in her seething belly, causing Roger to gasp and quiver. A fierce storm whirlwinded through him as his penis sucked deep in her pussy and battered her cervix. He felt the eruption of his boiling sperm starting deep in his groin, and knew he was about to come.

Lonnie sensed it, too. She could feel her husband's cock swelling and straining against the moist ribs of her fleshy vaginal walls. She begged: "Please… not yet. Not yet… wait for me, wait… please!" Her legs splayed wider and she bucked and writhed on the wildly squeaking mattress, her loins insatiable. "Now… harder…!"

Not even Lonnie, crazed with desire building for the last two weeks, or her husband, a rutting animal of pagan demands, would have been so wild and free if they'd known that less than four feet away, two small eyes were watching them with glittering, unbelieving intensity.

Jennifer Carmel opened her eyes with a start, blinking rapidly in the darkened bedroom. She had been awakened by the front door opening loudly, then the thunk of a couple of heavy things hitting the floor. At the time she didn't realize that what she had heard were the suitcases her daddy had carried into the bedroom. Jennifer strained her ears to catch any more sounds, but everything was silent, save for a muffled kind of talking coming from the direction of her parent's bedroom.

Daddy was home!

With a thrill, the young teenager jumped out of bed, landing lightly on the carpet in her bare feet. She was a lot like her mother, only in younger miniature. Her pert face had the same frame of coal-black hair hanging loosely, the same color in her lovely eyes, and the same up-thrust nose and full lips. Her father had given her a pale, almost iridescent quality to her skin and thinner arms and shoulders than her mother's, and a slightly higher cast to her cheekbones, which made her all the more sensual and provocative. Her breasts were smaller because they weren't quite as developed as he mother's, but they never would be as ripe or full; they were as if carved by a master ivory craftsman, small pointed cones which had peaks of black-berry-like nipples. Her buttocks were almost boyish, lithe and feline like some predatory cat's.

She was wearing her favorite nighty, a soft pink peignoir, Empire cut with a small red bow bunching the material under her breasts, acting as a sort of loose bra to jut them like display goods on a shelf. Not that she needed support for her breasts – they were firm and resilient like unripe peaches. The gown fell just below her thighs; it had once been a set with a pair of matching panties, but after Jennifer had discovered that wonderful playground between her legs, she made sure that the panties were conveniently lost.

Jennifer was a lot like her mother mentally and emotionally as well as physically.

She heard the shower go on then, and smiled to herself. Daddy was taking a shower; she couldn't go in the bedroom now. But she would in a little while, and run up and give him a big kiss. Maybe he'd be in his bathrobe and naked underneath and she'd accidentally brush against him and feel his thing against her leg. She liked doing that…

Not that she'd ever seen him naked. She hadn't seen any boy naked, except for the few little babies she'd changed while babysitting. All they had were little worms between their legs which wouldn't get hard no matter how much she diddled them. She'd heard that a man's thing… his penis! – was large and could get like stone. She'd been told that by her best girlfriend, Tamera Oliss.

Jennifer sat down on the edge of the bed and passed the time while her father was in tile shower by thinking briefly of Tamera. It was neat having her parents so close to Tam's parents; mothers bridge-club partners, their fathers working for the same company. Tam was a grade higher than she was, but that didn't stop the popular and vivacious girl from being friends – really good friends – with Jennifer. And Tamera was going steady with Vic Statler, the high-school's star half-back, a muscular, handsome boy which made all the girls swoon (including Jennifer), just as if he had stepped out of a movie magazine. How had Tamera ever latched onto such a boy?

Jennifer had an idea how: sex. Tam was, well, "experienced", Jennifer was sure, and probably from Vic… but what a way to go! Just thinking about those strong arms around her made her go all goose-pimply. Not that Jennifer had ever asked Tamera about it; that would be bad taste; but after that episode in the girl's shower room last April…

Jennifer had walked into the deserted locker room after staying late to practice volleyball. She'd undressed and walked into the showers, and there was Tamera! The older girl was sitting on the floor, her back to the tile, the spray of the shower beating down between her legs. And her hand was down there, rubbing as fast as it could. Tamera was moaning and her eyes were clenched; thinking she was in pain, Jennifer had rushed over and asked what she could do. Tamera had told her, after she'd gotten the innocent girl to lie down beside her and spread her own legs wide…

The thought of Tamera's cool fingers on her little pubic lips made Jennifer blush, and she averted her eyes from the image in her mirror. They didn't talk about such things in her sex and health class, but she knew instinctively that adults would disapprove. Tamera and she had gotten together a few times after that, to play with each other's pussy – and once Tam had persuaded Jennifer to let her be kissed there, but Jennifer had gotten scared after a couple of minutes and made Tam stop.

But Jennifer hadn't stopped wanting to feel those strange, scintillating feelings that she'd been introduced to in the shower room. She never let the boys who dated her do it to her… never! She was going to be married a virgin like her mother did, and anything past necking and fondling her breasts was strictly off limits. There were times after a drive-in movie or party when she'd cried out her frustrations in her pillow, for a boy she'd really liked at the time would have gotten her hotter than the hinges of hell. But after a few weeks the boy would no longer be important to her, and she would grow fond of another boy, and she had known that to give into one wouldn't be good. She wasn't ready to settle down, to truly fall in love.

Of course, no boy had come along like Tam's football star, but when he did – if he did – Jennifer knew instinctively that she'd have an awful time keeping her resolutions.

So the use of her fingers had proven a salvation, a release from the gnawing frustrations which ripped through her sensitive skin now and then. Especially after a heavy date, for when she'd finished her cry, she'd relax, and let her fingers do the walking…

She realized that the shower was over, and went to the door. It was going to be nice, seeing her father again. She padded out of her room, which was at one end of the long, tri-level home, and passed through the kitchen and living room, and stepped down the wide, shallow steps to the hall leading to the guest room, patio, and master bedroom.

"Yes, Roger. Please take me… take me…"

Jennifer froze on the landing, hand gripping the wooden railing. That was her mother! She had never sounded that way before! Was she sick? Or was she…! A flash of an image came across the teenager's mind. Was her mother and her father doing things in there? Were they making love? A weird anticipatory tingling started growing in the pit of the girl's stomach. She'd never seen two people make love, though she'd often wondered about what it would look like, especially as she was masturbating. Then she would imagine herself under the heaving frame of the boy who'd fired her sexual desires that particular night. She'd never really thought about her parents doing it. They'd have to – she was here, wasn't she? The image of a hard, swollen penis screwing into her mother leaped up and she trembled with guilt. She told herself she should go back to her room and get dressed. She could see Daddy later, afterwards… and the thought of the act which she would have to patiently wait to end made her suck in her breath. Stop it! Stop it!

"Oh yesssss," her mother crooned again. "Oh yes, Roger, touch me there. There… oh yes, therrrrre!"

Jennifer found herself drawn down the hall, her pussy twitching with lewd thoughts. She couldn't do anything anyway, for the door to the bedroom was shut. She hunkered down by the door, every nerve and fibre of her tender young body on fire from the forbidden thrill of listening in on her parents. Her heart stopped and ache dared not to even gasp. Strange noises continued to flood her ears from the other side, their intensity increasing with every passing second. With a mind of its own, her right hand inched toward the handle. Did she dare to open it, just a crack?

"Ohhhhh! I want you inside me! Now! Now!"

Heavy rushed breathing and the staccato sounds of squeaking bedsprings punctuated by animal-like groans and moans blinded the teenager's normal sense of decency and decorum. Goaded to an uncontrollable pitch of curiosity and sexual arousal, she took a deep breath and slowly turned the handle down, not making a sound. She inched the door open, then open another fraction…

She paled and her eyes bulged wide, and a cold chill ran crazily up the full length of her spine.

The foot of the bed was pointed right at the door so that she could see the complete carnal scene. Her father and mother were making love violently! Jennifer could even see her father's thick, hard penis disappearing and reappearing into her mother's softly hair-ringed pussy with each piledriving thrust and withdrawal that he made. Her mother had her legs splayed wide on either side of his plunging body and periodically she would kick them high in the air then wrap them around her husband's driving buttocks, her ankles locking tightly behind his thighs, pulling him into her with all her strength.

Jennifer could feel the sweat flowing freely on her young body, trickling down beneath the folds of her pink nighty. She had a strange sense of not being a part of herself, the shock of actually viewing sexual intercourse that strong on her, and she couldn't understand it. Down between her clenched thighs her tight, still virgin cunt was tingling like it had never tingled before. She thought fleetingly of leaving… but she continued to watch with hypnotic fascination, now beyond it rationality.

She centered her gaze on the muscles straining out on her mother's inner thighs as Lonnie Carmel struggled like a drug-crazed nymphomaniac to get her husband deeper inside her hungrily sucking vagina. Jennifer's father was cupping her naked buttocks with a savage strength that cut red, bloodless lines into the full, uplifted moons. He squeezed her buttocks together, forcing the walls of her vagina tighter around the thickness of his rigid pelvis, and Jennifer studied the thin, moistly glistening lips of her mother's pussy as they strove to milk the giant shaft of its strength. The teenager could see the thinly parted pubic hairs grazing teasingly against the narrow ridge which ran the full length of the underside of her father's penis.

Jennifer heard the almost incoherent moanings as, her parents thrashed around on their bed. Goaded to a mind-warping frenzy of abandon, the little girl brought her hand down along her body and across her thighs, to rest against her own tender pubic mound, and then to rub it back and forth through the silken material of her shorty nightgown. She could feel wetness flowing on her thighs and down her inner legs, and she sat on the rug and chanced opening the door a little bit more so that she could see better from her sitting position. She gathered the hem of her nighty, bunching it up along her firm, young thighs, exposing the whiteness of them and the young, sparse growth of her pubic hair. Again she lowered her hand to her pussy mound and began to rub – faster and faster in a froth of passion and empathetic emotions.

Her mother's mewls of pleasure were becoming more desperate, and the glazed eyes of the daughter stayed glued on the lewd, obscene coupling taking place a few feet away. Jennifer's middle finger slid along her wet cunt lips and found her clitoris, teased it with her fingernail and felt waves of consuming lust rip through her. She dropped her finger still lower, insinuating it in her now thirstily throbbing vagina, pumping in rhythm to the fucking on the bed while her thumb toyed with her erect little clitoris.

The girl was caught up in the passion of the occasion. She wriggled on the rug and let her wet thighs open completely and propped one leg on the door jamb, and the shock of the autumnal cool air in the house wafted over her steaming cunt and gave her a new shudder of ecstasy. The wet, sucking sound of her masturbation was clearly discernible to her ears, and her little body heaved and bucked from her whipping fingerings. She secreted heavily, more heavily that she'd ever remembered.

Roger Carmel was grinding down faster now, and the groans and howls were furious. He smacked against his wife, driving her deep down into the groaning mattress with each mighty surge. The loud clap of belly against belly, testicles against buttocks, were like claps of thunder. His wife curled and uncurled her legs in wild desperation around his hips, and both of the adults were breathing wildly, with rivulets of perspiration streaming down their pumping and hollowing loins.

Jennifer wanted to scream to wail as she became delirious with her own maddening passions, straining to hold back the explosion which was threatening to inundate her like a tidal wave. She nearly went out of her mind as she heard her mother moan: "Please… not yet, not yet wait for me, wait for me… please!" And then after a few more moments: "Now… harder…!"

The young teenager's breath rasped in her throat. They were going to climax! Her parents were going to come any second now! And she was watching it! Frantically she moved her clitoris, her cunt, her buttocks and anus with the fingers of both hands, impaling herself as deep as her hands would go. She was going to come too!

"I'm going… I'm going to come, Roger!" Jennifer could almost imagine herself saying that instead of her mother. She ground harder and deeper, quivering under the pressure, gasping for imminent release.

Lonnie Carmel screamed, "AAhhhhh!"

And then her husband's low cry of climax came as he burst his seeds of love inside his wife. "Oooooooohhhhhhh, me tooooo!"

The daughter heard the sounds of their orgasms, and watched wide-eyed as her parents scrambled for completion. Her mother's buttocks began small, spasmodic jerkings up tight against her father's penis. At the same time, Roger Carmel groaned above his wife and his thick, fleshy cock throbbed out milky white semen, leaping bursts of his cum which inundated her vagina and cascaded hotly out from around the pink, wet lips of her cuntal opening.

Jennifer could see the stream of her father's ejaculations running down the widespread crevice of her mother's desperately jerking buttocks and pool thickly on the sheet below. Then, as if by remote control, her parent's cumming triggered her own. She strained and stretched her legs out in sudden convulsion and the earth seemed to open up beneath her. She lifted herself off the rug in a trembling arch and grasped the bone wall of her pussy and squeezed and squeezed and squeezed.

Then suddenly she collapsed, sliding to the floor, and breathed raggedly. She could hear noises from the bedroom, but they were noises of contentment and not of passion. She peered in with dull, half-lidded eyes and saw that her mother and father were laying still.

She beard her father say: "Oh Christ, honey, took at the time. I'm going to be late."

"Wasn't it worth it?"

"Sure, but…"

A shock of panic went through the daughter. Her father was getting up! As much as she wanted to stay and see his sperm-emptied penis as he slipped it from her mother's vagina, she couldn't risk the chance of being detected. Exhausted, her body protesting, she dragged herself to her feet and wobbled slightly, her nighty sticking to the damp sides of her thighs and the wet matted hair of her cunt. She looked around and down and saw the wet spot on the carpet where she'd lain, and as her mind returned to sanity, she felt shamed and a little dirty for what she'd done. She clutched her gown around her protectively and groped her way back to her bedroom. But she didn't feel revolted, only satiated with pleasure.

Speaking of time, she told herself, once safe in the sanctity of her own room, I don't hare much of it myself! There was less than half an hour before school stated, and she had to catch the bus four blocks away.

In a frenzied hurry, she wriggled out of her nighty. The swift change from shameless little wanton to schoolgirl was not only necessitated by the time, but also because it saved her from dwelling on what she'd witnessed and done. A blanking of the mind – a salvation so that she wouldn't have to face the responsibilities for her actions. Naked, she went through her bureau and found a clean pair of panties, which she stepped into, her fingers tugging their elastic band until the smooth round cheeks of her buttocks and the soft mound of her cunt were snugged tight. She looked down to find a bra, and caught the sight of her tight panties and the split of full young vaginal lips, still swollen from her masturbation.

A moment of tiny shock crowed her mind, her body blending dangerously into the melting pot of sensuality she'd so recently partaken of. Then she quickly slipped into her blouse and miniskirt, and picked up her comb to untangle her hair. As she looked into her mirror and studied her dark waves, she saw that her mini skirt clung to her buttocks and was more than half way upper tanned thighs, with slight creases in front where her legs joined her hips. With sudden awareness she realized that she could almost see the lips of her vagina… and another forbidden thrill passed through her, followed by a blush as she recalled the last few minutes and one experience she'd never had before. Embarrassed, she collected her homework and books.

She quickly left her room, only to find that her parent; still weren't out of their bedroom. She didn't have time to wait, even though she would have liked to have said hello to her father – and then decided it was probably just as well. After catching them doing what they had been doing, she wasn't sure she could look them in the eye. She went to the front door and opened it.

"Mom! Daddy!" she called over her shoulder. "Gotta run or I'll be late! See you when I get home from school!"

Not waiting for an answer, she raced down the front walk of her home; letting the door slam behind her.