It was unusually chilly that afternoon in mid-September as Candy Allen dashed home from school. Neighbors attempting to garden in their postage stamp sized lots looked up as the pretty fifteen year old bounced up the hill past dozens of identical square houses toward her home, her books held tightly, her short pleated wool skirt rising tantalizingly with the bay area breeze, her thighs still tan from summer, her budding adolescent breasts obviously constrained beneath last year's blouse which she had almost grown out of. The twinkle in her eyes, the smooth clean shine of her long brown hair made the older women of this San Francisco suburb long with nostalgia for their own youth, while their husbands, glancing up from a magazine or a gardening tool, didn't fail to notice the unusually mature fullness of the Allen girl's figure.
Candy, however, didn't even bother with her usual `hellos' to the neighbors. Her thoughts were centered only on getting home as quickly as possible. She didn't have time to reflect, as she usually did, on the words to the song Ticky, Tacky Boxes which had finally brought a measure of fame to Daly City, the dull peninsula town where she lived. Within minutes she had arrived at the front door of her home, tossed her school books on the table, and hurried to her bedroom. She shut the door behind her, strolled over to the bed, and picked up a record album that was lying there. The brown-eyed fifteen year old gazed at it for a moment almost as she would have at a living person, so compelling was the face on the cover. She opened the box, put the first record on her portable stereo. Then she lay back on the bed, opened the book of lyrics to the one which corresponded, and breathlessly read as she listened:
How long have I waited
Spring, summer and fall?
It seemed through the winter
I'd n'er see you at all!
Oh, Julie, my darling!
Oh, Julie, my pet!
It's time for the wedding,
We'd better get set!
With a shudder, Candy closed the book and rubbed the beginnings of a tear from her eye. She had read and listened to that particular song over and over since she got the album three weeks ago, and every time the emotional impact 'was astounding.
It's so perfect, she thought to herself as she lay back against her pillow, pressing the lyric booklet against her full young breasts. She turned to look out the window of her room, gazing at the familiar sight of the Pacific coastline which was almost visible on these clear, bright fall days. The young brunette could scarcely believe she had only read the words to the song two weeks before when her uncle brought it home for her from the station. She had heard the record, of course, on the radio like everybody else. The album had been a hit almost from the day of its release, but the lyrics went so quickly and indistinctly that she had not fully appreciated the sensitivity of the message until she read the words for herself. It had been on the Top Ten list for weeks now and showed no sign of letting up. The song writer, Kris Sherman, an unknown before this publication, was now a national celebrity.
Candy picked up the album cover to look at the photo of the writer. It showed a lean, blond-haired young man with penetrating eyes and surprising good looks, even though his skin appeared scarred by a childhood case of smallpox. He was dressed in a suede jacket and khaki wash pants, and was shown hunched before a vintage upright piano in his cluttered San Francisco apartment. The adolescent girl thought he was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen, and certainly one of the best songwriters in the entire world. He must be, to be able to write lyrics that touched so many people so deeply.
"And tomorrow, Mr. Sherman," she whispered to the photo, "I'm actually going to see you in person!"
When her uncle had first told her that the radio station where he worked as a disc jockey had arranged for Kris Sherman to come for a personal appearance and to autograph copies of his album, Candy was overwhelmed; and she had begged and pleaded with her uncle to let her cut school and go to work with him to meet her favorite song writer.
At first her uncle was hesitant to give his permission, and Candy became pouty and silent. He had been no fun at all lately. In fact the relationship had become almost impossible between him and Candy ever since her aunt had died the previous year. He seemed unwilling even to let the attractive teenager go out on dates, giving only the flimsiest excuses; and it had only been after Candy begged and resorted to tears that he agreed to let her meet Kris. His wife's death was the second tragedy in Tim Allen's life, and Candy was beginning to believe that he would never make an adjustment.
Ten years ago Tim had been involved in a plane crash from which he emerged with only a broken wrist. But the disaster took the lives of his twin brother Tom, and Tom's wife. So it seemed only natural that since there were no grandparents on either side of the family, Tom's only daughter, then five years of age, should come to live with her Uncle Tim and Aunt Shirley.
And the two foster parents had attempted to truly replace his departed brother and sister-in-law; perhaps being especially eager to assume the role since their own marriage had not been blessed with any offspring. But things had changed recently.
"He treats me like an infant," she murmured to herself as her thoughts centered on her Uncle Tim. "He just can't seem to accept the fact that I'm practically an adult now."
But the pretty youngster also knew that there was another problem between them. There was a secret, a forbidden knowledge that they shared, something sexual they had never spoken of together, but that had pervaded their lives constantly ever since her aunt's death. Candy closed her eyes as if to shut out the painful invasion of this troubling thought from her consciousness. She tried to put it out of her head. She didn't want to worry about it now, not when she was feeling so at peace. After all, her dream was coming true tomorrow! She would actually meet and talk to the writer and singer of Julie. The excited teenager had even bought a new sweater to wear, and she memorized what she would say to him; how she would tell him how much she liked his songs, and that she had decided she was going to be a song writer too. She even wondered if she should bring some of the lyrics she had written so he could look at them.
Suddenly she heard the front door slam, and Candy knew that her uncle had come home from work.
"Candy, you home?" he called from downstairs.
"Yes, Uncle Tim," she called. He's probably checking up on me again, like always.
Turning her thoughts away from her uncle, she deliberately opened the book again and began to re-read it from the beginning, starting with another of her favorites, the title song, With a single rose.
Downstairs meanwhile, Tim Allen, her uncle and foster parent, was in the process of mixing himself what he called a martini, gin on the rocks with an onion and an olive. He was an attractive man in his late thirties with prematurely graying hair and a great suntan which he maintained all year by racing his tiny El Toro sailboat on the bay. Probably it was hiking out . on the little single hander that kept his body so youthful, especially his totally flat, tight stomach muscles. But the previously gentle face now contained traces of bitterness and melancholy.
He sat in his favorite easy chair in the living room, wondering why lie didn't sell the house. He leaned back, and slowly sipped on his drink, thinking about the hard day with the management climbing his frame about the appearance tomorrow of Kris Sherman. Usually his little FM station was as quiet as a morgue and bore little resemblance to anyone's idea of being a performer, including his. But the visit the following day of Kris Sherman had caused a flood of questions about where guests would be seated, when the song writer would arrive, whether the outside press would be welcome, and so forth. Even Mr. Mason, the executive vice-president, had made a special point of taking Allen aside to impress on him how important the hit song writer's visit was from the standpoint of publicity.
"I want you to be sure that the young man is treated with every- courtesy, Tim," the somber executive had added. "After all, the station could use a little more life; and the publicity this is bringing is worth millions when it comes to soliciting new advertising clients."
Somewhere the attractive disc jockey knew he wasn't really looking forward to the big event, even though it had been his idea to invite Sherman. And it wasn't only the idea of being confronted with mobs of listeners, or having the executives breathing down his neck which bugged him. It was something more personal. Somehow he resented Kris Sherman, even though he had never met him. He had heard the album With a single rose before its release and personally found it adolescent and sentimental. He frankly couldn't understand why it had become such a smash hit, or why his niece Candy was so carried away by the prospect of meeting the guy. From the photo on the record cover, the young song writer looked like just one more press agent's creation to him, another acne-faced beatnik with an updated version of Hearts and Flowers to peddle to the masses who were suddenly tiring of songs of protest.
Oh, I'm probably being unfair, the weary stepfather thought to himself. There's been too much pressure lately. It wasn't only the job, he knew that, but the relationship between him and his rapidly developing young stepdaughter, which was becoming more and more strained lately. Ever since Shirley, his wife, had died; the atmosphere in the house had become one of tenseness and mistrust. Maybe a guy like him just couldn't raise a teenaged girl alone, especially when he wasn't her real father. Sipping his drink, Tim recalled the untimely tragedy of his wife's death, a kidney ailment that took her life with the swiftness of a summer storm on the bay. With no preparation, uncle and niece found themselves suddenly alone together.
Of course, if that had been all, the trauma might not have been so brutal. Both of them had known that there was a hereditary predisposition to kidney ailments in Shirley's family, even though she had herself shown no signs of illness until the tragic weekend when she collapsed while he was away crewing on a weekend yacht race for a wealthy friend.
"Oh, Shirley ... Shirley," he whispered to himself, "why did it have to happen like that ... why? Why wasn't I there?"
A wave of guilt flooded him as he thought about his late wife; guilt not only for her death, but for something that had happened a few weeks earlier. It was something he struggled to keep out of his mind, but couldn't. And even if he could, he knew his niece would always be there to remind him. Strange as it seemed, Shirley had been able to show a warmth to Candy that she could never display to him, and the little girl had returned the love, almost from the first day she entered their home.
"This is morbid," he admonished himself. Putting down his drink, he rose from his chair, and headed to his niece's room. He knocked at her door. "Candy?"
"Yes, Uncle Tim?" Her tone was even, unemotional.
"How about our putting some dinner together? I'm starving ... "
"Okay," she replied reluctantly. Moments later, she opened the door, smiled perfunctorily at him, and kissed him dutifully on the cheek. "I think there's a roast defrosted in the `fridge'."
Tim Allen followed his niece downstairs and into the kitchen.
"What did you do this afternoon?" he inquired, trying to make conversation as he mixed spices for a marinade for the roast.
"Oh ... nothing much. I read the book and listened to the record."'
"Oh, With a single rose? I thought you'd be sick of it by now."
"Well, I'm not," she replied coldly. "I still love it, especially the song, Julie."
"Well, you'll get to meet the writer tomorrow. Did you arrange things at school?"
"Yes ... I took the slip in to the office."
Her uncle, growing somewhat annoyed at her cold responses, turned to her.
"Look Candy, what's wrong? I told you it was O.K. to come tomorrow. That's what you wanted to do, isn't it? Why are you acting so strange and distant with me?"
"Strange? I don't think I've been strange," she replied, avoiding his eyes as she peeled the potatoes.
"You have, baby ... for a long time ... ever since ... "
"Ever since Mummy died?" And somehow it still bothered him that Shirley had immediately become `Mummy' to her while he, who was the identical twin of her dead father, had never replaced her daddy, but had remained `Uncle Tim'.
Uncle and niece looked directly into each other's eyes for the first time that afternoon. For a long time neither one of them spoke. Then Candy went to the oven, put in the roast, and closed the glass door.
"Dinner won't take long," she said as she turned on the automatic timer. "I'm going back to my room to read. Just call me when the timer goes off."
"Candy," Tim said softly, stopping her as she headed out of the kitchen. "You don't have to go away. Why don't we just talk for a little while until the dinner is ready?"
"Talk? But Uncle Tim, there's nothing to talk about, is there?"
"No ... no, I guess not."
"The roast'll be done in about half an hour," she said curtly, heading out of the room.
Sighing deeply, her uncle sat down at the bright blue table which Shirley had bought at a garage sale and refinished herself. He began to rub his temples slowly with his fingers. His brain seemed to reel with images, loosened by the gin; and a rapid montage flashed before his mind's eye: He saw his wife with glowing blonde hair, delicate features, and peaches-and-cream complexion. The tormented husband could see her performing routine household tasks in his mind, her ravishing figure in cut-off jeans and halter top as she swept the kitchen floor. Even in her early thirties, she had the energy and beauty of a much younger woman. So many events from their life together tumbled through his brain like glass fragments in a stereopticon. He could vividly see his wedding day, and their long honeymoon camping in Mexico when they first experienced their sexual difficulties.
He asked himself again for the thousandth time why Shirley had been so cold and aloof in the bedroom. In every other way she had been a model wife, cheerful, affectionate, and a creative housekeeper. But in bed she had been an iceberg, tormented by the guilt and shame that her extremely religious parents hammered into her about sex and physical love.
He remembered Candida's adoption, and how her arrival seemed to bring harmony into their lives again. It seemed so easy to ignore their sexual difficulties when they could concentrate on their playful little girl; so sweet, that Shirley insisted on shortening her formal name to Candy, which seemed more appropriate. But then Candy began to grow up and search for her own life; and soon Tim's sexual frustrations with his wife were harder to hide. He found that over the years his desire for her had not abated at all; in fact, he seemed more potent and ardent as he matured. But with his wife, it was a different story; she all but retreated from her duties as a bedmate, to the point where she finally refused to let him fuck her at all.
She claimed that the doctor had warned her that her somewhat delicate condition might not stand the strain of too much physical activity. But Tim had visited the doctor later, and discovered that the man had given no such advice to Shirley; that according to the examination, she could lead the life of any normal healthy woman. He had only suggested that she not perform strenuous labor.
Furious at this discovery, Tim had confronted his tearful wife, demanding that she at least make an effort to revive their life together as lovers.
"I should have let well enough alone," the memory-laden man brooded. "I shouldn't have forced the issue like that ... maybe if I hadn't, she ... she'd still be here refinishing her junk furniture and being a good mother to Candy ... "
Burying his face in his hands at the kitchen table she had lacquered so carefully, Tim let the anguish run its course. Suddenly it was almost as if he were in a time capsule, returning to that night in late June when he had come home from work half-drunk after too many martinis at the local bar near the station. Christ, he hadn't wanted it to happen, but he was so frustrated, he couldn't help it. He remembered coming through the front door. Candy was asleep in her room, and Shirley was reading a leather-bound book, curled up on the living room sofa. If only he had stopped then, if only he hadn't been so drunk. Like a terrible vision from hell, he remembered the rest ... exactly as it happened only a little over a year ago.
"Is that you, Tim?" his wife had inquired coolly as her well-soused husband came through the front door.
"Yeah," Tim had mumbled in reply, his voice thick from the booze. "Who the hell else would it be? Are you entertaining lovers?"
"Keep your voice down, for heaven's sake, Candy will hear," Shirley requested, hardly lifting her eyes from her book.
Tim Allen stood for a moment at the entrance to the living room, . his liquor-dimmed eyes taking in the sight of his coldly beautiful wife dressed in a clinging dressing gown on the osfa.
As was the case lately, his feelings toward her were mixed. On the one hand, he still admired her beauty, for she was as voluptuously attractive and desirable to him as on their first date.
His cock began to throb spontaneously with sensual arousal at the sight of her, his responses heightened by the alcohol; and the handsome husband noted with pride that his male potency had diminished not one iota from his younger days. Yet, on the other hand, he felt resentment toward Shirely for her constant aloofness, her icy superiority that always made him feel a little shoddy for no real reason at all. She had a way of cutting him so subtly, yet so effectively, that he always felt almost guilty just for being alive. He knew he still loved her, loved her deeply; and yet there was something desperately wrong with their relationship.
"Candy asleep?" he asked, weaving slightly as he came down the hall.
"Yes, I hope so. She wasn't feeling well, so she went to bed early. So please, dear, try to control yourself. I'd rather she didn't know you came home drunk at night."
A surge of anger mixed with frustration tore through Tim Allen's mind and body, making him tremble in reaction to her bitchiness.
"What's the matter, Shirley? Can't I even have a drink or two with the guys now without its making you uptight?"
"A drink or two? Really, dear, let's face realities, shall we? You look and sound like you've had a great deal more than one or two drinks."
With a smug smile on her face, his wife turned him off with her eyes and returned to her reading. Her angered husband found himself smouldering with resentment, and a sense of deep inadequacy began to take over his alcohol-fogged brain.
"You bitch," he finally said, resorting to name-calling. "Who the hell do you think you're talking to?"
"Please, Tim," his wife replied curtly, "if you must use that kind of language, please close the hall door. I'd rather Candy didn't hear such words."
Suddenly her husband reached out and grabbed the handle to the door and slammed it shut with a bang, leaving him alone with his wife in the living room. In his excitement, he didn't notice that the door, instead of closing, bounced open slightly from the force of the slam.
"You're such a good mother," he snarled, "so damned concerned about your daughter. You don't give a shit about your husband though, do you?"
"Don't be silly, Tim. You're just drunk. You don't know what you're saying."
"I may be drunk, but believe me, I know exactly what I'm saying!"
He stared at his wife, who remained unperturbed and somewhat detached through his outburst. His long-unsatisfied cock throbbed hungrily in the snug confines of his trousers, and his brain reeled with a strange mixture of raw desire and bitter anger. It had been nearly two months now since his wife had let him make love to her, and that last time had been anything but satisfactory.
Taking refuge behind her feigned illness, the self-satisfied beauty had withdrawn from him into her private world of literature and philosophy, arguing that she had no ability or interest in `carnal' pleasures anymore. But her husband knew differently. He knew she was stubbornly refusing to fulfill her wifely duties to him, treating him almost like a stranger whose duty was to earn money and stay out of sight.
He knew that is why he had been drinking more and more lately, to compensate for his feelings of uselessness, and to stave off the sexual tension that was building daily in his still-potent body. Sailing a small boat on San Francisco Bay may help to get your rocks off; but in Tim's case, it didn't seem to be doing the job. He was tired of being made a fool of; and now, in his drunken condition, the rage and anxiety that had been building steadily were reaching a boiling point.
"Maybe you should just go to bed, Tim, and sleep it off."
"Oh, no," he replied ominously, his eyes narrowing as they stared greedily at her sensuous form, "not tonight, my dear wife, not tonight!"
He began to advance towards her slowly, like a tom cat on the prowl, and for the first time Shirley began to respond with alarm. There was something about the look in her husband's eyes that had changed, that told her this time he meant business. And he was drunk as well, more drunk than she had even seen him before. The tips of her scarlet fingernails seemed cold, and her breath came faster and faster as he approached her.
"Tim ... what's the matter with you? Please, Tim, what's wrong?"
* * *
Unknown to either parent, Candy, in her bedroom, lay wide awake, straining to hear what was going on in the living room. The fourteen year old had been startled out of a sound sleep by the sudden slamming of the door, and she knew that her step parents were arguing again. A little knot of tension began to form in her stomach as she heard the muffled shouts from below, and her young body shook in fear. She hated it when they quarreled like that, and it had gotten so much worse lately. Why did he treat her like that? And the young girl thought she heard her step-mother accuse him of drinking too. Candy thought it was disgusting; and she clenched her fists angrily as she lay on her bed, listening intently, and wondering if her real father who looked exactly like him was like that too.
"Oh, please stop," she whispered, "please don't fight! I hate it! I hate it!"
* * *
Unaware that they were being overheard by their teenage charge, the Allens continued to hurl fierce accusations at one another.
"I've told you, Tim, the doctor insisted I refrain from any kind of physical activity."
"You're a liar! I talked to him myself ... "
"You ... what?"
"You heard me, damn you! I talked to Dr. Crane and he said nothing of the sort. He said you shouldn't spend ten hours a day horseback riding, but he didn't say you couldn't fuck your husband!"
"How dare you check on me, Tim Allen! You are no better than an animal! A rutting stallion!" Bitter tears began to form in the woman's eyes, as she uttered the cruelest insult she could think of. "You want me to submit to your bestial desires, that's all. Well, I'm sorry, I can't! I don't care what you or the doctor says, there are some depths I cannot and will not stoop to."
"There doesn't seem to be a damn thing you can stoop to!" the enraged disc jockey spat. "Christ, it's been months since we've had any kind of real sex together. You're thirty-five years old, damn it, and you act like a woman of eighty!"
"Just because I won't participate in ... obscene activities? Is that what you're so upset about? I don't think it's my problem, Tim, and I'm sure my parents would agree with me. You apparently haven't gotten over your need to prove your masculinity. But, as I say, that isn't my problem."
Tim glared at his frigid wife, standing only a few feet away from her as she sat on the wide sofa. The blinding rage that had been building inside of him threatened to explode in vicious fury at any moment. His imprisoned penis throbbed with angry passion, and it was all he could do to keep from slapping Shirley violently in frustration.
"Obscene activities, huh? That's all I ever hear from you, no matter how hard I try to be gentle." The long deprived husband was almost past the point of reason now; and the alcohol level in his blood heightened his fury even further. "Well, my darling wife, I think it's time you stepped off that goddamn pedestal of yours and got around to enjoying some of the obscenities us common mortals enjoy. And there's no time like the present!"
With no preparation, the enraged husband suddenly unbuckled his belt, unzipped his trousers, and pulled down his pants and shorts so that his fully erect, hotly pulsing cock swung upward, stiff with vicious desire, while his heavy, sperm-swollen balls swayed menacingly beneath.
"What are you doing?" his shocked, disbelieving wife cried, closing her eyes to shut out the sight of the fleshy hardness that was suddenly exposed to her eyes. "Have you gone crazy?"
"Yeah, maybe I have! Maybe it's about time I have too!"
Shirley was terrified to see him undressed right in the living room. Tim had always had the decency before to make his sexual advances in the bedroom beneath the protection of a blanket. She couldn't believe how he was staring down at her, his green eyes flashing fury and contempt, while his hands gripped the lewdly thickened girth of his stiffened penis.
"Tim ... no ... what ... what are you doing with that thing?"
"It's not what I'm going to do, bitch, it's what you're going to do! So you're too tired to get fucked, huh? Okay, fine, let's try something new! I don't even have to touch your precious cunt! "
"I don't ... don't understand," she murmured, shaking with alarm.
"Then I'll explain it to you in words of one syllable, sweetheart. I WANT YOU TO PUT THOSE HOT LITTLE LIPS AROUND IT AND SUCK MY COCK!"
Shirley's brain exploded in terror at his words, and she couldn't believe her ears! Her husband had never suggested such an obscene act to her before; but she knew instinctively that he meant business. Her still ravishing body grew cold as ice, and the humiliated wife tried to make herself as small as possible on the sofa as her drunken spouse approached her, his stiffened rod of male hardness drawing closer like some frightening instrument of torture.
"Oh, my God, Tim. No ... noooooooo!"
* * *
Meanwhile, their fourteen year old step-daughter crouched in fear by the door wearing only a thin shortie nightgown, and listened to the quarrel. She still had difficulty making out the words, but she knew from the intensity of the shouts that something was really wrong between her adopted parents. Anxious and almost in tears, she had crept quietly out of her bed and now huddled silently, straining to hear what was happening. She wanted to rush into the living room and beg them to stop, but she couldn't.
The innocent adolescent was paralyzed, staring wildly at the closed doors of the living room, wishing they would stop fighting. Then, as she suddenly heard her dear Mummy cry out in alarm, she began to creep slowly forward, holding her breath and trying not to make a single sound that would give away her presence.
What she saw made her jaw drop open in sheer terror, and it was all she could do to keep from crying out in total shock. The sensitive young girl watched in frozen dread as her uncle gripped her aunt's head by the hair and pressed his quivering, blood-engorged cock against the tender softness of her full red lips.
Inside the room, Shirley, knowing there was no escape from her drunkenly aroused spouse, shuddered in revulsion arid drew back from the forced contact with her husband's rigidly erect shaft. She had tasted a drop of slightly tart moisture at the tip, and Tim had seen her recoil in fear and disgust. Everything in her was screaming in protest at what her frustrated husband was forcing her to do.
He knew it, but he didn't care. In fact, the sight of his trembling wife cowering before him, uncertain of what he might do to her if she refused, only fed the fires of his rage and lust. She might hate him for this later, but tonight she had to submit! In a last bid for mercy, she raised her tearful eyes to him, hoping he would retreat from his demand; but one glance at his leering, bloodshot eyes told her that her hopes were futile.
"Open your mouth, or I'll force it open for you!" he snarled sadistically. "Now!"
Shirley, her shuddering body already drenched in. fearful perspiration that made the clinging folds of her dressing gown hug her dampened body, knew she had no choice. Closing her eyes tightly, she opened her trembling lips; and with great effort managed to encompass the very tip of his penis. Involuntarily she tried to draw back, but her lust-incited husband gripped her hair tightly with one hand, while with the other, he encircled the thick girth of his eagerly throbbing penis, pulling the foreskin back fully with his thumb and forefinger. Then he shoved forward, driving the massive rod half its blood-bloated length into the warm wet recesses of his tortured wife's resistant mouth.
At first Shirley choked on the lewdly pulsing shaft as it worked its way farther and farther into her mouth; but her husband's firm grip left her no choice but to endure the ordeal as best she could. Mercilessly he drove forward, plowing the rest of his heavily burgeoning column, every lust-heavy inch of it, far back into her defenseless throat. His pendulous balls pressed obscenely against her chin, and her nostrils were filled with the pungent male odor of his loins.
Fresh tears sprang to her eyes, this time from the uncontrollable gagging sensation she felt as Tim began to slowly flex his hotly aching penis, lasciviously drawing it in and out of her helpless mouth, savoring the warm pull of her tensely ovalled lips each time he withdrew.
Unaware that he was being observed by his step-daughter, the drink-sodden husband reveled triumphantly as his frigid wife submitted to his demands. At last he felt as if some measure of his manhood were restored; and the exciting sensations in his loins were ample proof that this is what he had needed for months, even years. Fifteen years of marriage, he thought, and this is the first time she's sucked my cock! Hell, it's about time! The normally conservative husband, consumed by waves of pent-up frustration and anger, drove his wetly swollen cock in and out of his humiliated but submissive wife's wetly sucking mouth with mounting enthusiasm.
In fact, once the horrified shock of feeling his feverishly hot rod of flesh plowing into her mouth began to abate, Shirley seemed to find that, by relaxing slightly, she could at least endure his battering intrusion. Her lust-incited husband felt her mouth begin to open and close instinctively around the fleshy column stuffed up inside it, tentatively at first, then with an increasing, unconscious deftness. Her tongue began to dart over the tiny opening at the tip, then downwards over the sensitive underside, covering the length of the rapidly plunging shaft with an electrifying wetness.
Indeed, despite her obvious feelings of shame and mortification, she was responding better than he would have thought possible, as though she were discovering that the forbidden act was not as terrible as she had anticipated. Even though she was deeply resentful of Tim for forcing her to do it, she seemed startled to find that somewhere she possessed an instinct that helped her to please him, even though this was the first time she had ever taken a man's penis into her mouth. Later she would admit that, strangely, an unusual warmth began to churn inside her vagina, a bizarre kind of empathic excitement that slowly extended to her entire body, penetrating the tension, fear, and coldness that generally held sway over her body and emotions.
But for the moment, her lewdly thrusting husband knew only the intense pleasure he felt at his rock-hard penis plunged in and out of her wetly clasping mouth.
"Aaaannnnggghhh," he moaned crazily above his kneeling wife's head, his eyes closed in sensual delight as she sucked him. His heart was thundering like a cannon in his chest in time with the erotic pulsing in his blood-engorged member; and he groaned like an animal and twitched convulsively as spasms of long-denied sexual urgency quivered through his loins, driving him wild with desire.
Meanwhile, observing them silently at the door, Candy could scarcely believe what she saw. Nor did she understand her own reactions. She was horrified, true. How could her Uncle Tim do such a disgusting thing, particularly when he knew Mummy didn't want to do it? It was also the first time she had actually witnessed a sexual act; and although the astonished child knew from classes at school that such things took place, to actually see it happen, and between her own foster parents, was more, much more than the young girl was prepared for. Her adolescent body, huddling at the door and shivering in her thin nightie as she peered through the narrow opening in the door, was still with icy terror.
Yet another reaction also seemed to take place within her, an unusual feeling of ... of warmth and pleasure. Down there ... between her legs ... in her vagina. Even though she hated Uncle Tim for what he was doing, there was an undeniable thrill rippling through her nearly naked body, as she watched him thrusting his hotly swollen penis in and out of her abused foster mother's mouth! Watching him standing there, his pants and shorts shoved down to his knees, flexing his powerful hips back and forth and groaning in delight, his innocent young step-daughter was surprised to feel a twingle of bizarre envy, as if, despite her revulsion, somehow she almost wished it were her mouth her Uncle Tim was fucking into! The odd paradox of her feelings troubled Candy deeply, and she wished the strange sensual warmth would go away from her virginal young pussy. It was wrong, terribly wrong, particularly when her sympathies lay with her step-mother. Yet still she watched, unable to tear her eyes from the lewd spectacle in the living room; and unconsciously she found herself opening the door a little more, silently, so she could see more clearly.
Shirley, now totally surrendering to her husband's assault, found that as she knelt on the couch sucking his cock, salacious ripples of dark eroticism sizzled through her previously unresponsive body, making her grow almost wanton with sensuality. She knew instinctively that these were the sort of feelings her religious parents had always warned her against, and that she had struggled through fifteen years of marriage to fight.
But now with her resistance finally battered down by her husband's unexpected drunken demands, she found herself, however unwillingly, carried away on a rising tide of throbbing sexuality. A wanton animal pleasure that she had never before known began to overwhelm her, and she found herself opening her mouth wider to receive his rampaging cock. She began sucking voraciously, while her vagina grew hot and wet with an excitement of its own. Maybe, she thought dimly, maybe I've been wrong all along.
"Oooooooohhhh," Tim growled lustily above her, sensing the change in her attitude and reveling in it. "Suck my cock, yeeesss! SUCK MY COCK!"
His vulgar words increased his normally frigid wife's unexpected surge of passion; and she pulled greedily at his lust-distended member. Spasms of sharp lewd heat surged upwards through her hotly throbbing cuntal interior, dilating it, and making her body ache with a totally new delight. Eagerly she gripped his twitching cock with her cherry-red lips and squeezed the wrinkled surface of his hardening testicles in her slim hands, driving her husband wild with added delight.
"OH CHRIST," he shouted suddenly in a frenzy of bestial thrills, "I'M CUMMING ... CUMMMMMIIINNNNNGGGG! UN ... UNNNN ... UUGGHHH!"
And he was there! A thick jet of white hot liquid suddenly burst forth from the swollen head of his fiercely plunging cock and gushed like a viscous flood into Shirley's mouth. The unexpected explosion of sperm made his tormented wife shiver and tremble, but as gush after gush of hot male cum filled her mouth, she knew she had no choice but to gulp it down all the way into her now excitedly receiving belly. Strangely, even this 'vas not half as difficult as she had imagined, and soon she was draining his slowly deflating cock with an animal urgency that made her triumphant husband groan with pleasure.
Finally, his orgasm completed, Tim pulled his softened penis out of her trembling oval depths. Somehow he knew, despite the vulgarity of what he had done in his alcohol-sodden state, there had finally been some kind of response from his wife. Finally, after fifteen years, there had finally been a breakthrough between them.
Turning away to pull up his pants, he suddenly glanced to the door of the living room. The exhausted husband gasped in shock when he saw, through the slightly parted door, the waif-like figure of his fourteen year old step-daughter staring at him with a strange heated look on her face. In the next instant, however, she was gone, and he could hear her slippered feet padding quickly up the hall to her room.
So she had seen everything! His heart sank, and the young step-father felt a stab of misery in his stomach. Glancing down, he saw his wife laying back against the sofa, telltale droplets of white cum glistening lewdly around her mouth. Thank God she hadn't seen Candy; she didn't know.
"Shirley," he whispered, kneeling on the floor before his wife. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Slowly his wife opened her eyes and glanced at him. But strangely there was no look of contempt, as he had expected, but a soft kind of satisfaction that she had never displayed before.
"It's all right, darling," she said in a low voice. "Maybe I needed that. I haven't been such a good wife, have I? Maybe things will get better ... now ... "
* * *
Slowly Tim Allen's mind returned to the present, and he lifted his head as the sad memories faded away. It was only a short while after that night when Shirley had passed suddenly away. Candy and he had never spoken about what happened that unspeakable night, yet father and step-daughter since then lived together in mistrust and unspoken tension. How could he explain to her that Shirley had finally had a breakthrough that night and that she didn't hold his drunken assault against him? In fact, their sexual relationship had started to improve until ...
The oven timer went off with a clang, and Tim glanced at the clock. Time had slipped away in the rush of guilty remembrances. Wearily he got up from the kitchen table, turned off the timer, and went to the door to call Candy to dinner.
Chapter 2
At two o'clock the next afternoon, the small audience studio of KCFK was filled to overflowing with an eager crowd. The focus of the talkative crowd's attention was a special platform set up toward the rear, where a young man dressed in a suede jacket, blue denim wash pants, loafers, and a work shirt was seated autographing books and parrying questions with reporters who stood around him scribbling on pads, while photographers flashed pictures of the best-selling song writer recently turned performer.
The young man, Kris Sherman, seemed completely at ease, brushing strands of his straight long blonde hair away from his eyes as he smiled and bantered with the crowd. He had a handsome, somewhat rough face, but unusually sensual lips, which immediately drew attention away from his rather scarred complexion.
Behind him, in a semi-circle, stood Tim Allen, his step-daughter, Candy, and several company executives who smiled approvingly.
"Tell me, Mr. Sherman," a severe looking woman from the San Francisco Chronicle asked, "how do you feel about your spectacular success?"
"Well," he replied in a low-pitched, masculine voice, "it feels great. You know, everybody's been saying how I've had this overnight success, but actually I've been at this game a long time, and I've got a basketful of rejection slips to prove it."
A ripple of amused laughter went through the crowd.
"Let's just say I'm very glad people have liked the songs in With a single rose ... and I hope they like my next album as well."
"Are the names in your songs based on real life people?" a male reporter asked. "Particularly the girl Julie."
"Well, naturally I like to draw from personal experience. But Julie could be any young girl who is on the brink of womanhood." He paused for a moment, glancing to his right where Candy stood, dressed in her new ribbed sweater and pleated skirt, her eyes shining with breathless excitement. Kris, who had been aware of the girl's presence from the minute she arrived, locked his eyes directly with hers.
"For example, it could be that pretty young girl right there. I like to think that the character might be someone just like that ... "
All eyes turned to Candy for a moment, and she blushed with embarrassment. Yet she was also deeply thrilled that the famous song writer had singled her out like that. In hearing and reading the song lyrics, Tim Allen's naive daughter had identified completely with Julie, and she thought that Kris's singling her out meant he could see it too.
Her father, on the other hand, standing uncomfortably next to her, was annoyed by the remark, and wished he had never thought of inviting Sherman. He hadn't liked him any better in person than he had expected to; and he thought he detected a note of smug sarcasm beneath the casually dressed author's easy charm. He was also aware that the young man had been glancing with unusual interest at his step-daughter, and the concerned father in him didn't like that one bit.
"Mr. Sherman," a lady reporter queried, "several of the critics have suggested that your album, despite its success, is riddled with cliches. How do you feel about that?"
"To tell the truth, I don't give a damn." Another amused giggle went through the crowd. "I don't pay much attention to the critics. What matters to me is what the people think ... the real people, not the intellectual snobs. And apparently the people like my work. Frankly that's enough for me." There was applause from the crowd.
What bull shit! Tim Allen thought to himself.
A station executive sitting next to him leaned in to whisper in the jealous step-father's ear. "The boy's fantastic, Tim. A real charmer. Worth a fortune to the station, eh?"
Allen smiled back artifically, and sighed.
"There have been comparisons," another reporter said, "between your work and that of Rod McKuen. Do you consider yourself in the same vein? And do you consider yourself primarily a song writer or primarily a performer?"
Kris glowered slightly at the reporter, then answered, "I don't consider myself anything in particular. I write songs. Sometimes I sing them; sometimes other people do. As for McKuen, he's good, but I consider myself better. Does that answer your question?"
"Yes, thank you very much."
The executive next to Tim Allen, a thin, gray-haired man in a blue suit, stepped forward. "Well, ladies and gentlemen, I'm afraid that's all the time we have for questions. We're leaving the air now to switch to our other studio for the news. Of course, we'll let Mr. Sherman finish autographing these albums. There's a table with refreshments just over there, and I hope you will avail yourselves, compliments of KCFK."
Applause broke out, then excited chatter as the crowd began to talk and mill around the table set out with Cokes and sandwiches. Immediately Candy moved over to the song writer, holding her well-used copy of his album.
"Could you ... could you autograph this for me?" she asked shyly.
Kris glanced up at her, smiling warmly.
"Sure, it'd be my pleasure." He took the box of records and turned it at an angle so as not to cover his own face as he wrote. "To what name?"
"Julie ... I mean, Candy... " Allen's step-daughter laughed in acute embarrassment.
"Candy ... pretty name." He wrote something quickly on the cover and handed it to the excited girl who read it at once.
To Candy; may she find her love like Julie, and may she be happy always. Kris Sherman.
"How's that?" he asked.
"It's perfect. Thanks so' much. You know, my step-father's the disc jockey who invited you, and I couldn't believe it when he told me you were really coming. I love your album, really And I wanted to thank you."
"Believe me, Candy, it's me who should be thanking you. I wouldn't be where I am today if it wasn't for my listeners." He smiled at her with his winning grin, and affectionately squeezed her arm. Candy's step-father, noting this from a distance, felt himself grow somewhat tense.
"I want to be a song writer too someday," the girl said. "You've been a real inspiration to me."
"You want to write songs? I'm delighted to hear that. If there's any way I can help," he let his eyes quickly travel up and down her appetizing young body, "please say so."
"Maybe some other time," Tim Allen said suddenly, stepping towards them, "but I think Candy has to be getting home now."
His step-daughter shot back, her eyes flashing angrily. "Can't I stay a few minutes and talk to Mr. Sherman?"
Before Tim could protest further, the station executive joined them, having overheard the conversation.
"I'm sure you can, Candy," he said solicitiously. "After all, Tim, it's a great honor having Mr. Sherman here and a fantastic opportunity for Candy to get some pointers. We might even get a story in the Chronicle about the famous song writer helping a local girl." Then he added in a confidential whisper, "And we could use the extra publicity."
"Perhaps another time," Allen said evasively to the young song writer.
"No time like the present," Kris volunteered, rising from his chair. "Why don't you and I go off and have a Coke, Candy, and get away from this crowd? I'd really be interested in talking to you."
"Oh, I'd love it. Please."
Tim felt cornered. He knew old Mason wouldn't like it if he objected. Goddamn radio station after all. And he didn't want to deepen the rift between him and his step-daughter by refusing to let her go. Still he was extremely wary of the self-impressed song writer and suspicious that the guy's interest in Candy was not necessarily of an artistic nature.
"Very well," he said finally, "I'm sure it'll be all right."
"There's a coffee shop around the corner," Mason said, "and I'll see to it that the crowd here doesn't know you're headed there."
"Great," Kris said. He put his arm around Candy's shoulder and let her through the crowd of admirers. "Tell me, honey, what kind of songs do you want to ... "
Candy's step-father watched them sternly as they left the studio. He knew his impressionable daughter was a sitting duck for the kind of smooth line that Sherman handed out; and it was all he could do to stifle an impulse to follow them.
"Well, Tim," the executive said, "it's been a great success. It should attract a few more advertisers to the studio. Frankly, you know, sales have been falling off, and we've been somewhat concerned about how to revive them. Things should be better now."
"I hope so," Tim replied in a low voice. "I certainly hope so."
* * *
A few minutes later, Candy was sitting in a secluded corner of the coffee shop, sipping a lemon Coke and waiting for Kris to return from the men's room. The pretty fifteen year old could hardly believe her good fortune. Not only had she actually met her favorite song writer and singer, but she was now having a Coke with him and talking to him like a friend! To the impressionable girl, he was even better looking than his photos. She loved his handsome strong face, and his longish hair that fell straight down over the collar of his suede jacket; and he had a way of smiling at her and talking in that deep, raspy voice of his that thrilled the young adolescent beyond measure. She was positive that he was just like the hero of his songs, deep feeling but hesitant. And in many ways she was like Julie, the heroine of her favorite song.
"Maybe I'm just being silly," she mused, "but it's like fate or something, us just sitting and having a Coke together, like it was meant to happen."
While she daydreamed romantically, the object of her thoughts was combing back his hair and admiring his face in the lavatory mirror.
She's ripe for the picking, that juicy little cunt. Nice and young, and nice and stupid. Just the kind I like. Like rolling off a log.
When he had seen her come into the studio, earlier that afternoon, the amoral young song writer could barely keep his eyes off her curvaceous adolescent body. The way the pear-shaped buds of her young breasts pushed against the ribbed material of her sweater made his eager cock begin to thump in his trousers. She was so innocent, so trusting, so full of the bright energy and excitement of youth, that the horny entertainer yearned to shove his greedy prick hard up into her virginal pussy.
I like the new releases, he joked to himself as he made his way back to the table.
"Hi there."
Candy looked up to find herself staring at Kris's good-looking face. For a moment she was swept away by the sight of him. He was so masculine looking in his elegant suede jacket. And particularly, her attention was caught by the unusually large bulge in the crotch of his faded denim pants. She glanced away quickly, her heart beating wildly in her chest.
"Hi ... " she smiled.
Kris eased himself into the booth and sipped on his Coke, hardly taking his eyes off Candy's pretty young face.
"You said you write song lyrics, Candy. Do you have any with you?"
"Well ... just one. I wasn't going to show it to you. You'll probably think it's silly."
"Why? Do I look that insensitive to you?"
"No ... " she laughed girlishly, "not really. But I'm sure it's not any good."
"Let me see it."
Slowly she reached into her purse, and with trembling fingers withdrew a folded piece of paper.
"I...I wrote it after I heard your album ... "
Smiling his warmest smile, Kris took the paper, unfolded it, and read...
The One True Love of My Life by Candy Allen.
Someday I know I'll find you
Through the loneliness and pain.
And then I will be happy
And love will be the gain.
Smiling in the sunshine
Laughing through the storm,
Our love is like a fire
That makes our hearts grow warm.
"Candy," he said, after a long silence, "this is beautiful. Just beautiful."
"Do ... do you really think so?" the gullible teenager asked shyly.
"Really ... I ... I'm very moved by it." They sat absolutely still in the coffee shop booth, their eyes locked together. Candy felt little chills of excitement race through her adolescent body, and a warm pulsing glow seemed to be churning in her loins. "It seems such a shame that we'll only have these few minutes together before I go back on the road. This has been very special for me, Candy."
"For me too," she whispered.
Suddenly there was a strange sensation in the young girl's knee. Kris was brushing his leg against it. Tim Allen's fifteen year old step-daughter felt her heart fluttering in her chest at the contact. Maybe it was wrong of him to make that little gesture, but she held her leg still, thrilled by the contact of her knee against his under the table.
"You could be a good song writer some day, Candy," the aroused young man continued. "Maybe we'll meet again when you're famous."
"I'd like that," she replied. In fact, she didn't want to ever leave him from that moment on, and she wished she could run away with him. "Do ... do you have to go now?"
"Soon," he said. "I've promised some friends in the city I'd be there this afternoon."
"Oh." Neither one of them spoke for a while, and Candy was sure that Kris felt just the way she did. He still kept his leg pressed against hers. In fact he was moving it back and forth now, making the warm glow in her loins begin to grow hotter and hotter. The adolescent girl began to wonder if maybe she wasn't falling in love. "I guess ... I guess I should go too, or my step-father will get worried."
"Do you like your step father?" he asked, as he finally pulled his leg away.
"Oh ... he's okay. He's really my uncle; only my folks died, so now he takes care of me. We just don't get along, I guess.
"I know how it can be," he said, smiling.
"Come on, I'll take you home in my van. That'll give us a little more time together. Would you like that?"
"Oh yes, very much."
* * *
Fifteen minutes later they were parked in a secluded alley not far from Candy's house, talking in the front seat of a new green Volkswagon bus.
" ... Yeah, I got this bus with my profits from my first record sale. First chance I get, I'm going to drive across the country and just see the sights ... free as a bird."
"Oh, that sounds wonderful," Candy sighed.
"Got everything I need in this little baby," he said, referring to the van. "Look back there." He drew back the curtain behind the front seats, and Candy turned to see that the back of the bus was fully equipped with a tiny kitchen, and a large, double-bed-size mattress.
"Shall we sit there for a minute?" he asked.
"I - I guess so," Candy replied, following him through the curtain.
"Complete privacy," he said, as they sat down together. The back of the van was illuminated by the strong sunlight filtering through the checkered window curtains. Suddenly Candy realized that for the first time she was completely alone with the handsome young song writer. She trembled slightly, feeling that perhaps she had gone a little too far by being here; but she was so excited, just being near him, that she didn't mind.
She almost liked the idea of defying her step-father like this, and doing something a little wicked. Besides they were only just talking, weren't they? Kris had been a real gentleman. She looked at him sitting so close on the mattress. Oh, how handsome he looked, with the sunshine glistening on his blonde hair; and his eyes seemed to be gazing at her so sweetly, with an expression that reminded her of a big puppy, so trusting, so loving. She found herself almost wanting to ... to kiss him.
Kris Sherman was doing his best to keep his `cool' and not to go too fast with the naive fifteen year old; although inwardly he was raging with lust for the appetizing youngster. His ample cock was straining in tight erection against his cotton pants, aching to lunge up into Candy's tight little teenage cunt. But he knew that he had to take it slow, otherwise he could get in big trouble, not only with her step-father but with the police. Still, the girl looked very willing. So he began to edge closer and closer to her.
"Candy," lie said as they sat next to each other, "would you mind ... if... "
"What?" she asked in a voice that was barely audible.
"Would you mind if I ... kissed you ... ?"
"I ... I ... no ... no, I don't think so."
Gently, Candy found herself being encircled by his strong arms as he drew her softly against his muscular body. In the next moment his face bent down, and their lips touched in a soft, tender kiss. Candy thought she would explode with happiness; for as their lips met, little ripples of sweet delight began to sparkle all over her body. She was in the arms of the man she had admired for weeks! He was actually kissing her in the back seat of his Volkswagon bus! It was a dream come true.
She nestled happily against him while he kissed her over and over on the lips, each time growing more and more intense. Then his tongue began forcing its way between her lips, trying to gain entry into her mouth; and as this happened, Candy grew unaccountably anxious, drawing away from him slightly.
"What's wrong?" he asked in a hushed voice. "Don't you want me? Don't be afraid ... it's all right ... "
"I ... I do want you ... I do!"
To prove it, she kissed him fiercely on the lips; and then allowed him to thrust his tongue deep into her open mouth. A strange kind of animal excitement began to wind its way through her body as he did; and she clutched at his body with her hands, holding him tightly as passion began to rise in her adolescent frame. She could feel his hand traveling upward now until it cupped her soft young breast, but she fought back any resistance. She wanted him!! She wanted to be his, just like the girl in the song With a single rose.
Kris sensed that the girl was responding eagerly to his older, more practiced caresses, and he began to increase his ardor, kissing her more hungrily, and massaging the thrusting fullness of her surprisingly well-developed breasts. Even through the surface of her sweater and bra, he could feel her nipples, taut with desire against his palm.
Candy made a feeble attempt to stop his hands as the aroused young man began to reach under her sweater, but her own excitement was so delicious that she mutely let him lift it up and reach around to unhook her bra, so that her swelling young breasts were completely exposed to his gaze, white and vulnerable, throbbing with newly awakened passion. Candy gasped as he flicked out his tongue and, beginning at her throat, snaked wetly downward to her tiny quivering nipples, licking tantalizingly in little circles. She had never experienced anything like it, and she loved it; it made her want to cry out with delight!
Soon he had eased her back against the mattress until he was kneeling over her, his knees straddling her thighs, as he licked and bit gently at her soft breasts, driving the awakening teenager to a fever pitch of excitement. Little explosions of fire seemed to be taking place deep inside of her seeping vaginal passage, set off by the lustful teasing of his lips and hands. The rapidly responding fifteen year old squeezed her thighs together, as though to stop the deliciously forbidden sensations; but the pressure only seemed to increase the sharp thrills she felt. Excitedly she wound her arms around Kris's neck and pulled his face down onto hers, kissing him with all the untapped young passion of her body.
With a bestial groan, the older man pressed his full weight down on her and began rocking to and fro. Candy realized, with a little shock of reality, that his penis was fully erect; for she could feel it pulsing against her aching pubic mound like a drum through his pants and her skirt, as he twisted and moaned above her. She knew she should stop, but she couldn't, she couldn't! It was love, wasn't it? Why should she be afraid? This was what she had dreamed about for weeks and weeks. Who cared if her step-father would be angry? She was going to live her own life, beginning now. With a cry of abandon, she clung to him even more tightly, crushing her naked breasts against his chest and grinding her hips against his with instinctive expertise.
Suddenly he pulled away from her; and Candy saw, to her surprise, that he was suddenly taking off his suede jacket, and then hastily unbuttoning his shirt.
"Oh, Candy, I want you so bad, baby," he said urgently. "So bad. And you want me too, don't you? Don't you?"
For a moment Candy didn't know what to say. It was all happening so fast. In fact, she was startled when she realized that Kris was now unzipping his jeans, immediately revealing that he wore no undershorts; for the full throbbing thickness of his stiffly extended penis was soon exposed to her astonished eyes. For a moment she was paralyzed; for she remembered the last time she had seen a man's penis: her Uncle Tim's! The night when he'd.. .
"Kris ... please ... " she began to protest as the now-naked man tried to remove her clothing, "I don't think this is right ... "
But his ardor overran her objections; and soon the sex-driven song writer had deftly removed her sweater and bra completely, then unhooked her skirt and slipped it off until she was clad only in her loafers and white bikini panties.
"Oh, you're so beautiful, Candy," he murmured, as his thick-lashed eyes roved over the soft cream-whiteness of her succulent body. The adolescent girl found her gaze riveted to her idol's muscular nakedness as well; and her aroused young body began to throb with insistent desire for him. In the next moment, all fears or thoughts of her uncle vanished as Kris eased her back again to the mattress and moved his hand down across the softly trembling plane of her stomach, and then slipped it inside the tight elastic waistband of her panties, edging toward her virginal pussy.
"Touch my cock," he said urgently, "touch it.
Curiously thrilled by his lewd command, Candy let her hand reach out and down until she found the quivering stiffness of his penis. Tentatively she touched it, astonished by the warmth and great size of his member; and at first she was afraid, for this was the first time she had ever touched a man's genitals. Meanwhile though, Kris had worked his way to the soft curl-fringed cleft of her vaginal lips, and the feel of his fingers there on her private flesh was driving her wild.
"Ooooooohhhhh," she breathed, as he found the tiny bud of her clitoris and flicked it softly with his fingertip. "Oooooohhhhh!" She had never felt anything like it in her life! She had dated boys a few times, when she could get her uncle to agree to it, and she had petted a little, but nothing like this! It was wrong for her to let him do it, she knew, and wrong for her to be stroking his naked cock like that, even though it felt so wonderful in her hand, like something to be cherished. But if she didn't stop now, she knew she wouldn't be able to stop at all. In another minute she knew he would want to ...to...
Suddenly she saw the face of her uncle flash into her mind again, and Candy began to struggle away from her probing idol.
"I have to go," she gasped, forcing herself to an upright position and struggling to retrieve her clothes. "I have to ... really ... "
Kris fought down his anger and annoyance with the girl, and decided that, despite his desire to fuck her senseless right now, he'd better play it safe and wait. After all, she was jailbait.
"I understand," he said. He watched her hurriedly dress, and then began to pull on his trousers. "Will I ever see you again?"
"I hope so ... if you still want to see me, after this... "
"Oh, I want to see you," he said, pulling her to him for one last embrace. He kissed her fully and fiercely on the lips, and when he stopped, Candy was limp in his arms, gasping for air.
"Kris," she whispered, closing her eyes tightly, "I think ... I think I love you."
Chapter 3
When Candy entered the front. door of her home a few minutes later, she was still radiant with the romantic afterglow of her meeting with the erotic young song writer. She closed the door behind her as, if in a dream, then leaned against it, remembering every exciting moment of her time with Kris Sherman. He was so tender and so gentle with her that the impressionable youngster thought he was practically the ideal man; and it was only the tiniest voice of fear that kept her from giving her young body to him that very day. He looked to desirable and attractive when she saw him totally naked in the back of his van, that the sensually awakening adolescent was flooded with feelings of warm wet desire in her loins, and chills of passion had rippled through her firm adolescent flesh.
"Is this what it is to become a woman?" she wondered wistfully. "Is this what they mean by falling in love?"
She was jolted from her euphoric daydream b y the phone ringing. Muttering with annoyance, Candy went into the living room and answered it.
"Hello?"
"Candy? It's Uncle Tim."
His niece frowned, already sensing the suspicion in his voice.
"I've been calling home for the past hour, honey," he continued. "Where've you been all this time?"
Candy fought back a feeling of anger that began to churn in the pit of her stomach. He was checking up on her again, just as usual.
"All we did was have a Coke, Uncle Tim," she said with irritation. "If you were so worried, why didn't you send the police over?"
"Candy, you don't have to be snide. I just wanted to make sure you got home all right, that's all. I'm concerned about you - is that old fashioned nowadays? You're only fifteen years old, you know."
"Yes, and you treat me like I was twelve."
"That's enough of that, young lady! And would you mind telling me what you have been doing in the last hour since you left the coffee shop?"
"Talking! That's all, just talking in his bus!"
she snapped angrily. "Aren't I allowed to talk to anybody now without your written approval?"
"Candy, I'm going to end this conversation here and now," her disturbed guardian said, lowering his voice. "I can't talk to you like this from the station. But I think we should have a long talk when I get home."
"Maybe so," his niece said, beginning to sulk again.
"I'm leaving early this afternoon, so I'll be home around five, all right?"
"All right," she sighed.
"Look, honey, believe me, I don't want to be hard on you. I just want to make sure you're careful, particularly with someone older, like Kris Sherman."
"Mr. Sherman was a perfect gentleman, Uncle Tim," his niece said defensively, hardly conscious of her little lie.
"I'm sure he was, darling. So let's not argue, okay? I'll see you at five."
"Okay, Uncle Tim."
"Bye-bye now."
Candy hung up the receiver and sat down hard on the sofa, an angry scowl darkening her pretty features. Why does he always have to spoil everything like that, she brooded, always spying on me and treating me like a baby? The petulant young girl felt her uncle was a self-righteous hypocrite, always being a moralizing lecturer, making sure she only dated `nice boys', when all the time she had witnessed him, her own uncle and step father, forcing her poor Mummy to act like a prostitute for his selfish lust, forcing her to suck his penis! In that moment she almost hated Uncle Tim, and she wanted to run away from him and live on her own where she wouldn't have to endure his subtle tyranny and be a living witness to his shame. The frustrated adolescent wished she could run off with someone like Kris, and just live together like the couple in his song.
"Oh, Kris, she whispered to his memory, "I hope you call me sometime soon. Please ... "
* * *
He did call, the following day just as Allen and his niece were finishing their Sunday dinner.
"Kris?" Candy exclaimed, hearing the welcome sound of his voice when she answered the phone. "I was... I was hoping you'd call."
"Yeah? Great. I been meaning to call ever since we met, you know. I'm not far from your place; how about if I come by ... we could talk about your lyrics."
"Gee, that'd be great. Only ... I have to ask my Uncle Tim."
"Think he wouldn't like it?"
"Probably not."
At that moment he called from the kitchen, "Who's that on the phone, Candy? Is it for me?"
"No, it's for me," she replied.
"Ask him," Kris urged from the other end of the line.
"Okay ... I'll try. Just a minute." The eager teenager lay the receiver on the phone table, then went into the kitchen, trembling slightly, to speak to her uncle.
"It's Mr. Sherman," she said.
"What does he want?" her father asked, barely containing his immediate feeling of disapproval.
"He wants to come over to talk about my lyrics."
"Sweetheart, as I told you last night, I'd rather you didn't see him anymore. It's very nice of him to want to help you, and if he's nearby, he's welcome to drop by for a few minutes. But you've got to make clear to him that I feel you're too young to let this thing go any further. All right?"
"I guess I don't have too much choice. Okay, Uncle Tim, I'll tell him."
Turning coldly on her heels, the resentful youngster returned to the phone.
"He says you can come by for a few minutes, but that's all."
"Uptight, eh? Well, don't worry, baby, I've met his kind before," the young song writer remarked. "I'll be over in five minutes."
Candy could hardly wait for him to arrive, and she stayed in the living room to avoid further conversation with her guardian. When he had come home from work the night before, he had told her he felt it best that she not see the young song writer anymore; and the crestfallen youngster had no choice but to accept it. But in her heart she was determined not to lose contact with Kris, and even had made secret plans and schemes to meet him without her uncle's knowledge. Now, at least she was going to see him again, if only for a short while, and her lithe young frame trembled with eager expectation.
A few moments later the doorbell rang, and she ran to let him in.
"Hi," he said, smiling warmly as he came into the hall. He was dressed again in his suede jacket and denims, and Candy could hardly keep from letting her bright brown eyes rove shamelessly over his muscular physique. "It's nice to see you again."
"I was afraid you wouldn't call," she said shyly.
At that instant, her uncle appeared from the kitchen. "So we meet again, Mr. Sherman."
"Mr. Allen," Kris said pleasantly, turning on the charm, "glad to see you again." He extended his hand and Allen shook it, though without enthusiasm. "You know, your step-daughter is very talented."
"I'm glad you think so. I'm very proud of her." He smiled affectionately at Candy, who glanced away icily. "Well, I know you two want to talk, so I'm going back to the den. It was nice to see you again, Mr. Sherman. Excuse me, won't you?" Then, after a slight warming glance to Candy, he went to his workroom, closing the door behind him.
"I got the feeling he's not too keen on me," he remarked, as he followed the young teenager into the living room.
"Oh, don't pay any attention to him. I hate him anyway."
Candy settled into an armchair, while Kris settled himself on the sofa across from her. Immediately their eyes locked, and an electric shock of desire passed between them, making the young Allen girl shiver with sensual warmth. An involuntary spot of moisture seemed to be growing in the crotchband of her panties just from seeing him stare at her so hungrily. Kris too was already growing heatedly aroused once more, simply from seeing the nubile youngster, provocatively clad in skintight jeans and a snug fitting jersey.
"I brought your lyrics back, the ones you gave me Friday."
"Thanks," the thrilled young girl said, taking back the folded papers from him. For a moment their fingers touched, and a rush of heated passion began to blaze in Candy's loins. "Did ... did you like them?"
"Very much, yes," then Kris dropped his voice to a whisper. "I want to see you again, Candy ... badly. Do you want to see me?"
"Oh, yes," she replied in a hushed voice, "but ... my step-father ... he'll kill me if he knows I've been to see you."
The amoral young song writer let a look of wounded disappointment register on his craggy face. Now he was determined to get into the desirable fifteen year old's pussy - in fact, he had been unusually affected by the naive young girl. Generally when there was the slightest difficulty with a chick, Kris preferred to drop the issue. Since his recent success, he had all the willing young cunt he could shove his compulsively active cock into. Yet this long haired teenager turned him on in a totally new way, almost as if she was the Julie of his song; and this fact seemed to make him want her all the more, despite the risk. She was so young, so naive, and her virgin flesh tempted him more than all the jaded pleasures of life in San Francisco. Yes, he wanted her, and he was determined to get her, no matter what.
"He doesn't have to know, Candy. Make up an excuse, do anything, but meet me. Unless, of course, you don't want to ... "
"Oh, I do ... I do," she cried. Kris had to motion with his hand to keep her voice down, so as not to alert her step-father. "But ... how? Where?"
"The Pacifica Motel in Half Moon Bay. Do you know it?"
"Yes ... it's not very far. Why?"
"Meet me there, next Tuesday afternoon. Your old man works then, doesn't he?"
"Yes, but he'll know if I don't come home."
"Then work out an alibi. Throw him off the track. I want you so bad, Candy ... " He let his hand drop down to gently brush his already throbbing cock beneath the confines of his dungarees. His lewd gesture, rather than shocking the love-sick teenager, made her thrill with excitement. All her overwhelming love and desire for him held sway over her consciousness now, and the fifteen year old wanted only one thing: to be with Kris Sherman, and to do anything he wanted! Her young vaginal flesh shivered with warm pleasure, and she could barely resist throwing herself into his arms right then and there.
"I'll find a way," she whispered urgently, "I'll be there."
"Good. Oh, that's great, Candy. Tuesday ... after four." He got up from the couch, smiling at her warmly, his smile all the more flashing because it was slightly irregular. "I better get going now, so your old man doesn't get suspicious. Don't say a word to him, okay?"
"No," she replied, feeling very grown up, and relishing her planned clandestine meeting with Kris. "I won't tell him a thing. It'll be our secret."
* * *
The following Tuesday afternoon, right after school, Candy, true to her word, took the first bus to Half Moon Bay to meet the young song writer at the motel. She had made up a carefully planned excuse, telling Uncle Tim that she had to work all afternoon at her girlfriend Amy's house to paint posters for the upcoming Sock Hop. Her girlfriend had agreed to cover for her in case her guardian called to discover Candy's whereabouts.
At first the love-struck youngster had found the idea very exciting, reveling in deceiving her hypocritical foster parent. Yet now, as she sat in the bus, riding towards her destination, she wondered if perhaps she wasn't being somewhat rash. Wasn't she practically jumping into bed with Kris? She had never been with a man before, that way, and although she was determined to be grown up, and though she desired Kris passionately; unexpected fears now made her grow somewhat apprehensive about her decision.
She sat in the bus, clutching her school books tightly and wishing she had left them in her locker. She watched familiar houses and shopping centers go by on the road. After this afternoon, she knew that her whole life would be different. She would see things differently. She wouldn't be a child anymore; she would be a woman. Yet something inside her trembled in fear, wondering if perhaps she wasn't still too young to do such a thing. Was it worth defying her father, and taking such a risk to satisfy the desires of her heart and body?
"Half Moon Bay," the bus driver called.
Jolted suddenly out of her musings, Candy Allen got up from her seat and left the bus. Before her was a large, weather beaten neon sign saying PACIFICA MOTEL. Double Rooms Seven Dollars and up. COLOR TV. There was no turning back now. Moving towards the long single-story complex of motel rooms by the ocean, she noticed that the door to one of the rooms was open; and standing there was the smiling young song writer. Candy stopped and stared, her heart beating like a jungle drum in her chest. He was dressed in white jeans and a blue T-shirt. He motioned to her to come inside, and mustering up all of her courage, and forcing back her last minute anxieties and reservations, she smiled back at him brightly, and walked towards the room.
"You made it," he said, shutting the door quickly as the fifteen year old girl came inside. "Great."
"I ... told you I'd come," she said, out of breath from her run. "I hope nobody saw me."
"Don't worry. You're safe. Sit down and get your breath."
The pretty teenager sat down nervously on the edge of the double bed and glanced around. Her first impression of the rather cramped motel room was that it was drab and depressing. She had imagined a plush kind of room with a king size bed. Somehow the decor of the Pacifica Motel seemed cheap and tawdry, as if hundreds of couples had used it for just the same purpose as they.
"Nervous?" he asked, sensing her disappointment with the room and her general anxiety. "Don't be scared. And don't let the room get you down. It ain't the Mark Hopkins, but it'll do." Although his tone was gentle and friendly, inwardly the sex-driven song writer was hungry to thrust his lust-stiffened penis up inside the teenage girl's tight little pussy. Seeing her dressed in her school clothes - a shirtmaker blouse, and a short pleated skirt - inflamed him with desire even more. Nice little thing, he thought lasciviously to himself, nice fuckable school girl. Good mornin', little schoolgirl. His potent cock began to swell in his jeans, and thrust insistently against his thigh, urging him to get on with it.
But Kris knew instinctively that he'd better go a bit slow, especially since this was, he knew, the girl's first time. Later, well, he had some interesting notions in mind; but for the present, he decided to play it super cool.
"You ... you'll have to tell me what to do," Candy murmured shyly, her eyes staring down at the stains on the carpet.
"First thing," he said gently, "is come over here and give me a little hello kiss."
Smiling like a vulnerable little lamb unknowing of the slaughter, Candy slowly rose from the bed and walked toward Kris. Her brain reeled with a mixture of elation and terror. She wanted him, yes, more than anything else in the world; and the trembling fifteen year old felt that her body was practically on the verge of melting into liquid; her vagina was already pulsing with expectation and insinuating heat. Yet she knew that this was one of the most important moments of her life. She was about to give her innocence away to someone she had only known for a few days!
Maybe it was wrong! Maybe she was making a dreadful mistake. But it was too late now; there was no turning back. She stood hesitantly before the young man she loved, bewildered and afraid, not knowing what to do. Glancing up, she saw Kris's eyes glittering with passion, and felt herself being encircled by his arms.
"Oh, Kris ... Kris," she breathed softly, "show me... show me how to love you.. . !"
Her lust-driven boyfriend didn't need any further urging; and he drew her into a warm embrace, holding her soft young body close to his, while ripples of passion began to surge through his muscular physique. His impulse was to immediately tear off her clothes and fuck her savagely, but he held back. He knew that it was important, this first time, to take it slowly. If he was too rough, it could ruin it for the girl, and scare her away. He didn't want that, for he knew that once the naive creature was completely smitten by him, he could get her to submit to anything. But for the moment, gentleness and patience were the most suitable approach.
Restraining his raging lust, therefore, the scheming song writer drew Tim Allen's step-daughter closer and kissed her long and slow on the mouth, his tongue forcing itself between her lips and plunging deep into her mouth; while his hands stroked her back and wound gently in the shining tendrils of her long straight hair.
Candy closed her eyes and returned his kiss. She still felt frightened, but also thrilled, more deeply thrilled than ever before. Her heart beat faster and faster, and the force of her long-repressed passion surged to the forefront of her consciousness, overwhelming her with its provocative strength. She knew she would surrender to it completely.
As if in a dream, she felt Kris's hands begin to unbutton her shirt, and she shivered slightly as he removed both it and her bra and flung them aside. Her young breasts were naked now; and her pink nipples tightened on contact with the cool air into hard little buttons. Even though she had been almost completely naked with Kris that one time before, she felt oddly embarrassed; and she even blushed as the aroused song writer pulled back to let his eyes rove lustfully over the feast of her naked pubescent breasts.
Kris, growing hotter by the minute, cupped the round, pink-tipped mounds in his hands and began kneading and squeezing them softly, sending waves of heated desire through the innocent young girl's seething loins. Her still-virginal pussy throbbed uncontrollably, almost aching with warmth, and she moaned quietly as Kris took her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, pressing them tantalizingly and making them stand out even farther.
"Ahhhhhhhhhh," she sighed luxuriously as her amoral lover began to nip and suck lightly at her quivering nipples with his lips. "Kris ... that feels so nice ... sooooooonice ... "
The erotic song writer was becoming equally excited as he slavered passionately over Candy's naked breasts. The knowledge that within a few moments his eagerly straining cock would be driving upward into the wet softness of her young cunt acted as a potent fuel to his obscene desires. He was rapidly consumed with the need to possess this fifteen year old creature totally, to make her a slave to his whims of the flesh; and the thought filled him with a sharp sense of raw, powerful masculinity that made his penis swell larger and throb keenly in the crotch of his white jeans.
Pulling back momentarily, he stripped off his T-shirt.
"I want to see you naked," he whispered urgently to the still-frightened adolescent. He reached out and undid the clasp to her pleated skirt and lowered it. Leaving it bunched around her ankles, he immediately slipped his hands into the elastic waistband of her blue bikini panties and pulled them down too. Finally he removed both garments, so that the breathless young girl stood completely naked in the shadowy light of the seedy motel room.
Candy felt transfixed in some kind of strange fantasy as she watched her lover strip himself naked. Slowly he removed his jeans and boots while his eyes kept returning hungrily to the triangle of curling brown hair that nestled at the juncture of her slender creamy-white upper thighs. Candy thought Kris looked almost like the statue of the discus thrower that she had seen a photograph of in her world history book. And when he stood before her completely naked, her young eyes could not help roving shamelessly over his muscular body.
His massive penis, charged with desire, stood thickly erect from the dark tangle of his pubic hairs; and the adolescent girl gasped as she saw it once again. For the first time she was aware of its enormous length and girth; and she wondered fearfully if she could ever take it up inside her virginal little vaginal passage. At the same time, however, it exercised an overwhelming hypnotic fascination on her, and she stared at his throbbing rod of male hardness and at its forward thrust. She noticed too the sac of his testicles beneath, soft and swollen from his excitement.
Kris pulled back the covers of the double bed, then moved to Candy, taking her hand gently and leading her toward the bed.
"Don't be afraid," he whispered, "everything's going to be fine."
"I .. . I trust you," she replied in a voice barely audible. "I trust you." The anxious adolescent trembled from the mixed emotions that reeled through her mind. She wanted him, yes, but she also wanted now to run away. She wanted to cry out in fright, to beg Kris to wait. Perhaps she would be more prepared some other day. It was too soon, too soon ...
But Candy remained mute as her sex-driven boyfriend eased her down onto the cool sheets of the bed, then lay beside her and drew her nakedly quivering body against his, then crushed his full sensual lips over hers, smothering any last minute protests she may have summoned. Taking Candy's tongue in his mouth, he sucked hard on it; and the thrilled girl thought it would rip from its moorings. Despite her fears, keen sensations of lewd desire rippled through her, and with a little cry, she began to clasp his nakedly tight body with her exploring hands.
Kris, enjoying his easy success with the desirable teenage girl, obscenely slid his palms up and down over the sleek smoothness of her rounded hips and squeezed the resilient mounds of her buttocks with passionate intensity.
Still holding the kiss, he worked his hand slowly down between Candy's legs, searching with his fingers for the tight little entrance to her vaginal passage. Tim Allen's adopted daughter felt herself stiffen slightly with fear as his finger worked between the hair-fringed cushions of her pussy flesh and began to gently explore her cuntal split.
"Take it easy," he whispered encouragingly, "just relax, baby, it's all okay."
With determination, he forced her thighs slightly apart and placed his palm directly over her heatedly throbbing pussy entrance. Then, stiffening his middle finger, he began to insert it slowly up into her innocent flesh with a little circular motion so as not to hurt her. Inwardly he exulted, knowing he was about to deflower this tempting piece of teenage ass. He would be the first and, he thought, perhaps the most influential lover she would ever have. The plotting song writer chuckled obscenely to himself, relishing the sense of power his conquest provided. Her young pussy was already moist with creamy expectation, although her muscles involuntarily tightened, as if subconsciously trying to expel the intrusion of his eager finger into her innocent passage.
"Uuuuuuuunnnnngggghhh," she moaned, flailing her head from side to side. Undeniably his finger motions caused certain painful sensations as it stretched the tender membrane of her virginity and inched up into her vaginal softness; but it was wonderfully pleasurable too; and the inexperienced adolescent was torn with conflicting sensations of pain and desire as he rotated his middle finger up inside her cuntal interior, gently widening the thin hymen that still protected her virginal innocence, guarding the door to her most private treasure.
"How does that feel, baby?" he asked lewdly, licking his tongue wetly over her naked neck and shoulders, savoring the unmistakable signs of heated response from the lewdly aroused young teenager. "Does it feel good? It feels nice, huh?"
"Oh ... oh, yes ... yes... " she replied in steadily rising passion. She was lying somewhat; for although she was undeniably aroused by his lustful activity, she still experienced moments of pain and fear. Candy tried her best to surrender completely, wanting desperately to please Kris and make her dream of love come true. She dug her fingers into the naked flesh of her shoulders and tried to relax into his obscene caresses, even though she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. Hot thrills of pleasure shuddered through her nakedly excited young body, as the savagely determined young song writer continued his lewd finger-fucking.
Sensing that the moment had come, Kris withdrew his finger from Candy's wetly pulsing vaginal slit. He himself was nearly overwhelmed with lust, and the teenage girl gasped when she saw the passionate glaze in his eyes. It was almost frightening, the way he looked; and her mouth felt suddenly dry as, leaning forward and supporting himself on one hand, the lust-fired song writer gripped the rigid column of his stiffly erect cock and placed it at the entrance to her trembling young pussy. The exposed cock-head, much thicker than his probing finger, strained against the tight membrane that guarded her vaginal opening; and instinctively, with little mewls of alarm, the adolescent drew back. Kris, however, gripped her shoulder and held her in place, then fell forward on her body, pinning her in place with the force of his weight. Reaching down between their closely pressed bodies, he again grasped his eager cock and pressed once more in between the fearfully pulsating lips of her cunt. He could feel the virginal membrane of her hymen, already stretched by the lustful probing of his finger, giving way slightly.
"Kris ... no ... I'm not ready ... I'm afraid ... "
"You're ready, baby. Believe me, you're ready."
In the next instant the blonde-haired song writer flicked his hips forward and the huge bulbous tip of his penis penetrated her cuntal entrance at last, tearing her hymen as it plunged far up inside her resisting vaginal depths.
"Aaaaaaannnnngggggghhhhh!" Candy wailed as searing pain coursed through her nakedly splayed body. It hurt badly, more than she had anticipated; and in response, she began to struggle against him, trying to wriggle out of his tight embrace. But Kris was not about to let her get away; and ignoring her cries and moans, he lunged forward again. And suddenly he was all the way in, undeniably thrust past the torn membrane, the thick hot log of his cock sunk deeply up into her helplessly quivering vagina.
Although the no-longer-innocent adolescent still winced in pain, she found, after a few minutes, that having his lust-swollen male hardness imbedded inside her pussy wasn't so bad. In fact, it made her feel strangely full and complete, the way it throbbed warmly within her tight cunt. She had never felt anything like it before.
Soon Kris began to push forward a little, then draw back, then push in again, each thrust taking him deeper and deeper into the awakening girl's tight pussy. He reveled in the tightness, for her cuntal flesh gripped his thickly erect cock like a vise, and he could feel every ridge of her rapidly moistening vaginal canal pressing against his blood engorged member. He knew she was beginning to respond with spontaneous lust; and he began to increase the intensity of his lunges.
Candy began to moan softly, like a bewildered young animal, half crying, half laughing. Her brain still reeled in alarm, for despite her resolve to go through with it, unexpected pangs of guilt tore through her brain. After all, she was giving away her virginity to him, and the pain of it had shocked her out of the romantic day-dream she had constructed around her meeting with, the attractive song writer. Still her body, operating with a need of its own, was growing more and more passionate by the minute; and soft thrills of undeniable desire began to ripple through the teenager's ravaged young pussy. Her skin tingled from head to foot, as every inch of her adolescent young body began to awaken to the pleasures of the flesh.
"Oooooohhhhhh," she sighed as her eager lover lunged roughly up into her now nearly-drenched pussy with his thickly rigid penis, "oooooohhhhhh ... it feels so good ... oh, Kris ... Kris... "
"Yes ... yes," he grunted back, "I told you, baby. Come on, fuck.me back. Let go and fuck me back!"
His obscene order seemed to act like an explosion of dynamite on the young brunette's fears; and suddenly, with a cry of rapture, she submitted fully to his animalistic assault. A wave of unrestrained, obscene passion tore through her hotly writhing adolescent body, and she gripped his naked shoulders, holding tightly, gasping for breath, as the torrid copulation began to mount. She had never felt so wonderful in her entire life; and now finally free of all last-minute reservations and concerns, she allowed her mind and body to respond without restraint to Kris's hungry fucking.
Sensing her abandon, Kris's muscular body became charged with brutal strength. The teenage girl was crying out now like some adolescent whore, moaning in delight with her first knowledge of sex. She began to wildly writhe her gleaming tan young body beneath his sweat-dampened physique with a near-delirious excitement. Her long tapered legs kicked out wildly on either side of her amoral lover's hotly lunging body, and she cooed in utter happiness.
"UUUNNNNNGGGGGHHHHH...I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT!"
Her abandoned outcry renewed Kris's sense of savage passion, and he began to fuck her faster and faster, reveling in the moisture-drenched wetness of her submissive pussy, his breath coming faster and faster, his eyes bulging with barbaric pleasure. His roughly swinging balls began to tighten and swell with white-hot cum, and the lust-driven song writer knew his orgasm was not far off.
Holding him tightly, Candy groaned wildly, nearly incoherent from the force of the titanic burst of heat that tore through her deeply thrilled young flesh. Wave after wave of dizzying delight sizzled through her, beginning with the hot sunburst of passion in her newly-ravaged pussy and spreading like the spokes of a pinwheel to every part of her adolescent body. Suddenly the intensity built to unbelievable heights, and her cuntal walls began to palpitate as if suddenly struck by bolt after bolt of lightning. She knew, then and there, that she was cumming! CUMMING WITH A MAN FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HER LIFE!
"I ... I ... I'm cumming," she gasped, hardly believing her own excitement, I'M CUUUMMM MMMIIIINNNGGG!"
In response, Kris groaned like a wounded bull and bucked into her with machine-gun thrusts. He too had reached the pinnacle of orgasm; and the next instant found him shuddering from head to foot and suddenly jetting thick, heavy streams of scalding hot semen into Candy's eagerly clutching cuntal flesh. On and on it came, as the two young lovers, an adolescent girl and a sex-compulsive song writer, cried out in lewd response to the galvanic pleasure they shared.
Finally their passion began to ebb as the last of Kris's urgent cum drained into the steaming flesh of Candy's formerly virginal cunt; and soon he withdrew his softening rod from its drenched depths, and collapsed on the bed beside the softly trembling body of the fifteen year old girl. For a long time neither one spoke. Candy was absorbed in the sweet rapture of the S afterglow, while the obscene song writer reveled wearily in his triumphant deflowering of the tantalizing adolescent.
"Oh, Kris," Candy murmured at length, "it was wonderful ... just wonderful ... "
"I'm glad, baby," he replied. "It was great for me too. Next time it'll be even better."
The next time? Candy thought to herself. Somehow, in her young mind, she hadn't even thought about a `next time'. Wasn't it all over now? Like the movie, when `The End' flashes on the screen and the two lovers live happily ever after? She realized now that there was more to come; and the impressionable fifteen year old wondered, with a mixture of elation and anxiety, what would follow. If this first experience could be so wonderful, what unimaginable excitement yet lay in store for her?
"Yes," she whispered to him, snuggling closer on the bed, "next time ... next time ... "
Chapter 4
Now that she had become initiated into the mysteries of sex and was no longer a virgin, the pretty fifteen year old became totally enraptured with the insensitive song writer. The only thought that occupied her mind, day and night, at home and at school, after that memorable afternoon at the Pacifica Motel, was to once again see Kris Sherman and know again the thrills which he alone could give her. It had been agreed between the two of them that it would be best for Candy to contact her new lover at his apartment in San Francisco, always telephoning from a pay phone so that her foster father wouldn't discover any mysterious message units on his telephone bill and suspect her clandestine activities. In fact, it was about a week later that Candy called the song writer, right after school on Tuesday afternoon.
"Hi, Kris," she said warmly as he answered the phone. "It's Candy."
"It's nice to hear your voice, honey. How's everything going?"
"Fine, just fine."
"Your uncle doesn't suspect anything between us, does he?"
"No, I'm sure he doesn't. He's been very busy at the station. He says that since your appearance, he's had to have lots of meetings with possible advertisers."
"Great! That's what I like to hear. You know, I've really missed you, Candy ... I mean, that was some great time we had the other day, wasn't it?"
"Oh, yes," the naively captivated adolescent answered breathlessly, "It was wonderful." Tim Allen's newly awakened niece felt her young body tingle excitedly, just speaking to her lover. She couldn't wait to be with him again, to see his glisteningly naked body towering over her, looking like a fantastic Greek god. Her mind reeled with almost obscene images of the sensual song writer and she ached to feel his hotly swollen cock slip thickly up inside her receptive teenage pussy once again.
"I've been thinking about you a lot, Candy. Know what I mean? Especially at night when I'm all alone in bed. I really wish you could come here to my place. We could have such a great time."
"Oh, I want to, really. In fact, I have an idea!"
"Yeah?" Kris was delighted. He was eager to fuck the luscious teenager, but especially so, if she made it easy.
"I'll get tickets to a theatre matinee for Saturday, for me and my girlfriend. But I'll come to see you instead. My uncle won't suspect a thing, I'm sure of it."
"Baby, you are the greatest. Next Saturday, huh? That's great. But call me before you come, just to let me know it's all clear, okay? I'll give you the directions then."
"Sure. I'll call on Thursday after school."
"Great. I can't wait, baby. I mean I'm already getting hot just thinking about it! Know what I mean?"
Candy was thrilled and titillated by his words. Somehow she found it fascinating and very grown up to be talking so freely about sex with her older lover. She was startled to note a tingling warmth growing down between her legs, deep in her newly initiated vagina; and the sex-eager adolescent almost ached to see Kris again right then. Saturday seemed months away.
"Yes ... I ... I feel the same way ... just like you do ... "
"Terrific," he said. "I'll wait for your call ... meanwhile you be a good girl, right?" He laughed with an almost strange kind of insinuation that Candy was not sure how to take. But she chose to interpret it .as his way of saying that she was his girlfriend and shouldn't show an interest in other boys.
"Okay. Goodbye, Kris. See you soon."
"Yeah. Take care, honey."
After leaving the phone booth Candy walked home in a dream. It was all so magical, too incredibly wonderful that she thought she must be the luckiest girl in the world. The fifteen year old felt extremely `mature' now that she was actually having an `affair' with a famous song writer. In fact it was almost hard for her not to act superior with her girlfriends at school, because they seemed so childish to her now, giggling about boys and sex. Of course, she couldn't tell them what had happened. Only Amy, her closest friend, knew anything at all; and that was only because Amy had agreed to be the alibi in case her uncle got suspicious. But Candy took an almost condescending attitude with the disbelieving school chum, when she informed her that she was `seeing' Kris Sherman, the best-selling song writer, and that he was interested in helping her. Amy had willingly agreed to be a party to the long-haired girl's schemes, finding it thrilling to be in on something so exciting. And she too had been enthralled by With a single rose.
As she got close to her home, Candy began to whistle happily, wanting to skip down the street like a little girl and toss her school books in the air. She felt so very mature and yet newborn at the same time. Life was unbelievably good; she was going to see Kris again on Saturday. Her stepfather didn't remotely suspect anything and assumed that Candy was obeying his orders not to see the handsome blues composer again. He was busy at the station too and did not notice the emotional changes his newly-deflowered little girl was experiencing.
"I'm in love, I'm. in love, I'm in love with a wonderful guy," she sang loudly, surprising even the next door neighbor who was partly deaf.
* * *
"Oh, Uncle Tim," Candy gushed at dinner later, "the most terrific thing has happened. Amy got two tickets for Kiss me, Kate, this Saturday's matinee, and she asked me to go with her. It won't even cost anything. Can I go?"
"Kiss Me, Kate, eh? Lord, have they revived that oldie?" her warmly smiling uncle replied. "Sounds like a lot of fun. I've half a mind to go myself."
Candy paled momentarily, but managed to keep her smile glued to her face. Oh, how she hoped he would change his mind! Oh, please God, no! It would ruin everything!
"Gee, that'd be fun if you could come along," she finally managed to say, "but ... but Amy's got only two tickets."
"That's okay. And I really can't afford to take the day off. Lord knows, I've got it coming, after all the time I've put in with prospective clients since our friend, Mr. Sherman, came around." Tim's niece sat tensely, growing uncomfortable at the mention of her illicit lover's name, and hoping desperately that her step-father wouldn't join her on her trip to San Francisco on Saturday.
"But don't worry," Tim chuckled quietly, reaching out to squeeze his niece's hand affectionately. "I won't spoil your day. I'm sure you and Amy won't want an old fogey like me on your hands."
"Oh, that's not true, and you know it, Uncle Tim," his relieved niece said, smiling. "You sure don't look like an old fogey."
Although she said it spontaneously, and only to make conversation, Candy realized with something of a shock the truth of what she was saying. Most men his age, like her girlfriends' fathers, were paunchy and tired-looking. But her adopted parent was slim, well-built, and very handsome. His twinkling eyes had a strength and a life to them, and an undeniable sensitivity, which his observant step-daughter had never seen so clearly before. They had both been unusually relaxed that evening; and now, watching him relaxing in the kitchen chair, sipping his evening coffee, his striped shirt open, his tie askew, his graying hair slightly tousled, Candy was astonished to realize something: she had something of the same feeling for her Uncle Tim - at that moment, at any rate - that she had for Kris Sherman- For a brief moment, the pretty fifteen year old almost thought her heart had stopped; for this unusual realization took her completely off guard. Her step-father, her own uncle for whom she had felt nothing but contempt recently, actually - attracted her.
You're being ridiculous, Candy, she cautioned herself. Ridiculous - and stupid. Yet, as she continued to watch him as he leaned back and began to reminisce nostalgically, she found herself staring at him in newfound fascination. Not as a niece or a step-daughter, but as an awakened young woman.
"You know, Candy," Allen said, lighting a cigarette, "Your mummy and I used to go to the theatre quite often when you were young. Mostly musicals, too. She loved musicals. In fact, she wanted to be a dancer when she was a kid ... but she couldn't because of her ... her delicate health. I remember seeing Kiss Me, Kate just after it opened with Alfred Drake."
"Wunderbar, Wunderbar, we're alone and hand in glove," Candy sang jokingly, yet vividly aware of the irony that she had been singing that old song earlier, and thinking about Kris.
"Yeah, that's it ... I'm surprised you even know about it, but we loved that then ... seems so long ago now ... "
Tim Allen glanced away, and watched through the kitchen window as twilight settled over the stereotyped houses that characterized Daly- City, California. It had been so pleasant that night, talking with his daughter so easily. It was the first time in many months that they had communicated, and the meloncholy foster parent was relieved and grateful.
Yet remembering his teenage years with his now dead wife cast, once more, a dark cloud on his mind, and he found himself growing restless. He knew only too well that he had been very hard on Candy lately, and the reason was often due to the stubborn, frustrating restlessness that had plagued him since his wife's death.
Momentarily, he let his eyes fall on his pretty fifteen year old niece. How fragile she looked, sitting across the table from him. Yet somehow tonight she seemed oddly more mature, more of a young lady with her dark brown hair falling straight in contrast to her softly featured face. Tim leaned forward, caught by her appearance, struck that there was a womanliness about her that he hadn't noticed at all before.
"You're growing up, Candy, aren't you?" he asked quietly, gazing at her with an odd sort of intensity.
"Yes, Uncle Tim," she replied, "I am."
"You know, the funny thing is that we were talking about old songs, and the way I was just feeling makes me think of Gigi and the line, `Have I been standing up too close or back too far?' "
But it was undeniable, and the wondering uncle was startled further when, gazing gently at the image of his . young niece wearing her tight-gitting T-shirt that outlined the soft, brassiere-clad roundness of her breasts, there was an unmistakable stirring of warmth in his loins, a slight aching in his testicles.
"You're almost a ... a woman now," he continued. His penis stirred lazily in the crotch of his trousers and began to stiffen in small lurching movements; yet Tim Allen was hardly conscious of any of this, still enthralled as he was by the awareness that his niece, of sorts, was growing up before his very eyes. "Look, honey, I'm going to try to make things up to you. Maybe we can start all over again. Think so?"
"I ... I hope so ... I think so ... " Suddenly Candy had to get up from the table and turn away. "Gee, I've got some school work to do for tomorrow. Good night, Uncle Tim."
"Good night, honey."
Trying to smooth over the abruptness of her departure, Candy kissed him quickly on the cheek and ran upstairs. She hadn't wanted to run out like that. Her uncle had seemed surprised, but not hurt by it. But she just couldn't stay. For a reason she didn't understand, she had felt almost as if she wanted to reach out and hold him, even ... even kiss him. But that was wrong, ridiculous! Why, she had even talked about running away from home before! Suddenly now she was totally bewildered by a strange new emotion toward the man she called Uncle Tim, who by two cruel blows of fate had become her only parent.
Entering her room, Candy fell forward onto her bed, burying her face in the soft pillow, her shoulders shuddering as she burst into tears. Not wanting him to hear her unexpected sobs, Candy pressed her face deep into the pillow, muffling her tearful gulps.
"Oh, what's wrong with me?" she murmured confusedly to herself as she lay still a few moments later. "Dear God, what's wrong with me?"
* * *
The following Saturday, Kris Sherman was busily preparing for the desirable post-pubescent girl's arrival, hastily cleaning up his large expensive studio apartment on Russian Hill. The high-ceilinged room which was painted in off-white had once been the master bedroom of a much larger apartment built at the turn of the century when the area had been even more luxurious. Later, however, it had been divided into smaller apartments, each of which had a personality of its own. Wide windows looked out onto San Francisco Bay, but the sunlight could be filtered out when desired by a series of contemporary louvres. Another wall had a large, ornate fireplace which still functioned, and which had become an integral part of Sherman's seduction procedure. He had seen to it that the fire was well on its way to romantic embers before he had removed the rum bottle from the well appointed bar which occupied the third wall and mixed himself his first rum and Coke of the day.
"Mmmmmmmm," he sighed, swallowing a large gulp, "can't wait for my sweet teenybopper to get here." He hoped that it wasn't true what he had heard people say, that it's a sign of old age when you start going for the young ones! Then he returned to his haphazard dusting of the mantle which was filled with autographed photos of scantily clad girls, most of them with affectionate inscriptions.
His only attire was an expensive pair of French print silk bikini underpants which served as his `at home' outfit. Nearly naked, he continued his cleaning, straightening the velvet bedspread that covered the enormous foam rubber mattress that was the apartment's only other furniture, save for the low bookshelves that lined the walls. Whistling a song of his own composition, he picked up a few plates, remnants of a hasty dinner the previous evening, and deposited them in the sink of the tiny kitchen.
"Wow, I'm horny already," he murmured to himself, turning on the hot water over the dishes. Accidentally splashing some of the water onto himself, he yelped and jumped back from the sink. Cursing under his breath, he brushed drops off his naked legs, abdomen and chest. "Shit! "
Grabbing a towel, he dried himself, laughing at himself as he swabbed the pouch front of his underwear. His highly charged sexual state was so intense, waiting for the arrival of the sex-eager teenager, that as he rubbed himself dry, his penis was already beginning to swell hungrily, and his balls were throbbing with lewd expectancy.
"God damn," he said aloud, "I haven't had a case of blue balls like this for months now. Mmmmmm, what I need is more underage pussy. Nice juicy cunts to stick my prick up!"
Chuckling to himself, he returned to the fireplace to have another swallow of the drink he had left there. Drinking deeply, he shivered like a frisky stallion from the combination of the potent alcohol and the warmth of the fire, and his tight muscular body bristled with raw male heat.
He thanked his lucky stars for the day he decided to stop trying to write serious classical music and start making a fast buck turning out calculated pieces of pop crap. The results of his labors had produced With a single rose; and from that point on, the money had come rolling in, as had the women. Overnight success brought the startled but willing song writer all the female attention he could handle - starting with bored agents' wives, then female music critics horny themselves and in need of excitement, and finally whimpering teenage fans who identified so readily with his dewy-eyed heroines.
And Kris was determined to enjoy every minute of it. He felt he had struggled long enough with morals and poverty; from now on, it was going to be booze, kicks, and women; in no particular order. He wanted it all, and going to get it while he could. Tragically, he was unaware of the toll his new-found sensual greed was taking on what had been the more human, gentle aspects of his nature. At that moment, the doorbell rang, and Kris knew that his latest conquest had arrived.
"Just a second," he called, going to the stereo and turning on the record of Julie which he had already placed on the turntable.
Meanwhile, waiting at the door to Kris's apartment, Candy Allen stood nervously, clutching her small handbag, out of breath from her walk up Russian Hill. She was dressed in a snug knit dress of beige wool that emphasized her closely set breasts and slender abdomen, then flared softly around her slim legs. She wanted to be darling that day; and so she had left the buttons open in the front, just far enough so that the tantalizing cleavage of her surprisingly mature breasts flashed enticingly beneath. She had pulled her straight hair up into a simple chignon, to make herself appear a bit older, especially with the addition of green eye shadow and a rather deep shade of lipstick.
Fashionable platform shoes of brown leather completed the outfit, and Candy hoped that Kris would find her even more attractive now, more of a woman than a schoolgirl. Yet her fingers were cold as ice; for she knew that if her uncle knew what she was doing, he would be outraged. At that moment, the door of the apartment swung wide, and she was startled to see her uninhibited lover standing in nothing but a strip of print silk.
"Hi, baby," Kris greeted her, a lewd smile playing on his lips. "Come on in."
Although momentarily taken aback by his strange appearance, Candy was nonetheless thrilled to be with him again, and as she slipped past him into the apartment, she could feel her stomach churn with excitement.
"How are you, Kris?" she asked in a trembling voice, when he released her after a warm welcoming kiss that made her melt inside with hot arousal.
"Great. Say, you look terrific, you know that? Really great."
"Thanks," she replied in a low voice, blushing slightly and turning away. Then she became aware of his apartment, and of the carefully chosen piece playing on the stereo. "So this is where you live?"
"Yeah. A bit better than the Pacifica Motel, but not what I really want. I'm keeping all my money in the bank until I can buy a nice hunk of land - know what I mean?"
"I kind of like it," Candy said as she walked around the large, room, glancing at the new surroundings. She was fascinated to be in his apartment, for it was the first time she had ever been in a single man's apartment in her life. Though it was elegant in a way with its thick shag carpet that seemed a continuation of the off-white walls, the uncertain adolescent was a little confused by what she saw. There were non-objective paintings on the walls which she didn't understand at all, and the photos of the obscenely smiling women on the mantlepiece seemed in poor taste.
"How about a drink, Baby?" Kris suggested, picking up a glass from the bar.
"Oh ... gee, I don't know. I never really drink, except ... "
"What?" the amoral writer laughed. "Never?"
Candy felt a bit more uncomfortable, and she wondered for the first time if she was doing the right thing. "Well, a little bit of wine ... but my step-father wouldn't like ... "
"Your step-father? Well, hell, baby, your step-father's back in Daly City where he belongs, so let's drink up." He filled a glass half full of rum and added some Coke. "Here, take this. It's a Cuba Libre."
"I ... I don't know if I should."
Suddenly Kris seemed to lose his patience; for he began to glare somewhat angrily at Candy, and his tone of voice changed. "Christ, baby, one little drink won't kill you. What are you so afraid of?"
"I'm ... I'm not afraid of anything," she replied, somewhat astonished, "but I don't think ... "
"That's right, baby, so don't think. Stop being hung up on your old man and drink. Unless you're too scared ... "
"No, no," she protested, not wanting to appear stupid or unsophisticated in his eyes. "I'll ... I'll drink it."
"Great. I knew you would. Here."
Struggling to regain her poise, the nervous teenager took the glass from him and sipped. It was the first time she had tasted rum, and the strong taste was hot in her throat, even diluted with Coke. It made her lithe young body shiver; yet she was determined to show Kris how grown up she was, and she smiled at him, pretending to be really enjoying it.
"It's good," she said, trying not to stare at his nearly naked body. She couldn't understand why he wore that silk bikini; and though she reasoned with herself that she was just a kid and shouldn't be so naive, the bewildered adolescent couldn't fit what she saw into the romantic image she had created about the handsome young song writer. She wondered if she hadn't let herself in for much more than she bargained for; if perhaps, Kris Sherman was not the man of her dreams. The thought was unnerving, and she pushed it away. Of course, he was. They were in love, weren't they? Hadn't he said so?
"Mmmmmm, listen to that. That's our song," her lover said, as he began to move and flex his body sensually in time to the sound he had created. "That's your favorite, isn't it?"
"Yes, but I ... I like With a single rose and All About Alice and ... " She proceeded to name every band on his hit record.
"Sounds like I'm the only song writer you ever heard of," he laughed sarcastically.
Hastily, Candy took another swallow of the Cuba Libre, trying to resist her feelings of embarrassment. Kris was making her feel like a stupid little girl, and the confused fifteen year old didn't understand why. He had always been so kind and considerate with her; but now, now that she was actually in his apartment and at his mercy, he was behaving thoughtlessly to her, and in a way she found a little frightening.
Yet she also knew she was much younger than he was, and she certainly didn't want him to think she was afraid of him or the way he lived. It was their love that was important, wasn't it? Maybe there were things she didn't like, but that was normal, wasn't it? At bottom, wasn't it only her immaturity and innocence that made her feel this way? Candy decided to silence her doubts, and do her best to have a wonderful time with Kris, to be the willing pupil to his teachings.
Kris sprawled on the bed, his hand quickly gabbing hold of his silk-covered genitals. "Okay, now baby, let's have a little lesson. First of all, let's get out of that smashing dress of yours. I want to see you naked, okay? Besides, it gets me horny to see a girl strip. Come on, Candy ... "
The shocked adolescent gulped in fear as she realized he wanted her to take her clothes off right in front of him like a ... like a prostitute!!
"Scared again, baby? Sweetheart, you may as well go back to Daly City if you're gonna get so uptight with me ... I mean, you know we're adults; you're not at Disneyland. Maybe I made a mistake, maybe you're too young to ... "
"No," she interrupted suddenly, "I'm not too young, Kris! I'll show you ... watch me!"
Determinedly, the long-haired teenager began to slowly undo all the buttons of her dress. Her eyes shone with a determination to show her lover she could compete with any woman, even if she was only 'fifteen. The earnest teenager tried to smile provocatively in what she imagined was a seductive look, while she slowly lowered her dress from her slender adolescent body. Kris whistled appreciatively when she finally removed the dress, his eyes roving over her glistening young skin as she stood in the shadowy light of the room dressed only in her brassiere, panties, and high heels.
"Keep going, baby, you're doing great," the song writer encouraged lewdly, taking another swallow of his drink.
Candy's brain was beginning to reel from the effects of the unaccustomed liquor which were making her grow slightly dizzy and numb. Yet she was only barely conscious of the change in her condition; for she concentrated completely on performing the sensual tasks Kris requested. Forcing herself to smile as best she could, she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, letting it fall over her softly curving shoulders so that her unusually large, pink-tipped breasts fell free.
Kris cheered and took another swig as his eyes drank in the sight of the lushly swaying mounds of flesh that quivered and bobbed enticingly once the tight brassiere was off. Discarding the garment, Candy stood before her almost drunken lover, swaying in time to the soft music; and she slowly cupped her small white hands under the pear-shaped resilience of her firm, young breasts. She lifted them, squeezed them slightly, at the same time pursing her lips into a seductive `kiss me' pout, as she had seen on the covers of mens' magazines.
"Great, Candy," Kris cried, laughing and rubbing the crotch of his silk underpants to stimulate his lurching penis into tightly straining hardness. He watched hungrily as Candy let her hands slide down along her naked flesh until she reached the narrow elastic waistband of her panties. Inserting her fingers into the elastic, she began to lower the nylon garment over her softly rounded teenage hips and buttocks, bending forward as she did so, so that her throbbing young teenage breasts fell gently forward. "Fantastic, baby," he called to her as she began to lose herself in the strange, obscene behavior he forced on her. "Take'em off."
She stepped daintily out of her panties, discarded them, and then kicked off her shoes. The potent drink had made the unaware fifteen year old slowly lose her inhibitions, especially with the help of her uninhibited boyfriend, and she was growing giddy with sexual excitement, both from the rum and the sense of delicious wickedness that performing the strange strip-tease gave her. Despite her initial disappointment, and even distaste, for Kris's odd behavior, she now found herself growing sensually aroused by all of it; for her young vagina was growing damp with erotic wetness, and her skin began to tingle with warm pleasure.
It thrilled the impressionable adolescent doubly when the promiscuous song writer encouraged her; and she seemed pleased by her own obscene behavior. In fact, as she grew more and more tipsy, his strange behavior seemed less and less vulgar. It even excited Candy when he behaved so perversely, and made her do devilish things; for her sensual lover seemed to be calling up a dark, lurid side of her own personality that she never knew existed. She was completely naked now, standing obscenely before the huge mattress on the floor where Kris sprawled, staring up at her lewdly exposed body with rapidly mounting lust.
"Now spread your legs so I can see up inside that sweet little pussy of yours," he ordered her in almost drunken excitement. The long-haired adolescent, determined to shake off a spontaneous shiver of anxiety, did her best to please him. She thrust her pelvis forward and spread her young legs wide so that he could see her nakedly glistening cuntal split. "Wider," he commanded, growing greedy with the power he had over the defenseless young girl. "Pull your pussy lips apart with your fingers, baby, so I can see all the way up to your tonsils."
The anxious fifteen year old swallowed hard at his crudeness, then spread her legs wider apart. Placing her trembling fingers at the fluted pink edges of her obscenely exposed vagina, she slowly separated the hair-fringed outer lips so that Kris could gaze fully at the throbbing slit of her baby-soft cuntal flesh.
"You've got a real nice cunt, Candy," he said in alcohol-sodden admiration, as he began to slowly remove his tiny garment while staring fixedly at her naked pink vaginal opening. The soft music continued to accompany the sensuous spectacle taking place in the song writer's bachelor apartment. "Now, turn around," he added as he slipped off his scanty covering, tossed it aside, then hungrily gripped the eagerly swelling thickness of his cock with his left hand. "Take a look at yourself, Baby."
The startled teenager turned and suddenly found herself face to face with a narrow floor-length mirror; and for the first time she saw what she looked like. She could scarcely believe the obscene image that was staring back at her from the mirror. Her brown eyes opened wide as she gazed in astonishment at her nakedly quivering breasts, the nipples already contracting into two tight little buds. Then she glanced downwards over her smooth white stomach to the shamefully naked mound of her sparsely lined young cunt, pulsing warmly with a life of its own. Her dark brown hair hung limply around her shoulders, and she blushed from head to toe as she realized that at that moment she almost looked like a gutter tramp, an adolescent vamp ready to service the sexual demands of the man with whom she had fallen hopelessly in love.
Despite her resolve to be `grown up', to do as Kris asked and prove she wasn't just a naive little girl, the vulgar sight of herself in the mirror made a wave of unaccountable shame ripple through her naked young body. Maybe my Uncle Tim was right, she realized with a jolt, maybe I shouldn't be doing this!
But she had no time to reflect further on this; for Kris had gotten up from the bed, hypnotized by her luscious young nakedness, and had pressed his own nude body against her from behind. His lust-hardened penis lurched hungrily against the soft roundness of her buttocks, while his hot hands snaked around her upper torso and began a lascivious caressing of her voluptuously trembling teenage breasts. Sliding one hand down over the virgin smoothness of her belly, he slipped it up between her legs, his middle finger lewdly searching for the button of her adolescent clitoris, while his lips and tongue slithered hotly over her naked young neck and shoulders.
Despite her persistent sense of shame and fear, Candy could not tear her eyes away from the obscenely riveting image in the mirror. She was both fascinated and repelled at the sight of her defenselessly nude body, which, until that first afternoon with Kris, had never been revealed to anyone - and certainly not like this. But still, there was something undeniably thrilling about standing stark naked while the cruel, blond song writer covered her with burning hot kisses. His strong hands squeezed her lush breasts mercilessly, teasing the erected nipples until serpent-like sensations of pleasure coiled through her flesh, despite her youthful nervousness. And there was something about the obscene image in the mirror that once more awakened the primitive lusts deep in her unconscious, lusts that began to rise in irresistible waves, breaking through her anxiety and turmoil.
At that moment the sensual author pressed his middle finger on the sensitive button of flesh hidden deep in the crevice between her parted thighs. Involuntarily, the disheveled youngster tried to tighten her legs against his obscene intrusion, but it was no use, for he expertly pressed the fleshy pad of his finger-tip down on her clitoris, making the warm fires burning in Candy's little pussy begin to glow with maddening intensity. She moaned in spiraling passion as a stab of heated desire ricocheted upwards through her quivering belly and breasts.
Now using both hands, Kris spread her tender, hair-lined pussy lips wide so that her naked clitoris stood out rigidly erect like a tiny penis, while he continued his tantalizing stroking of the area until his tickling was almost unbearable. Then he began worming the middle finger of his other hand into the tight wet oval of her cuntal mouth. The lewdly driven writer could feel the smooth, wet walls of her recently deflowered vaginal passage encircling his finger as he wormed it slowly up inside.
"Aaaaaalihhlihnnnnn!" Candy cried in slight pain, as his finger moved relentlessly up into her sensitive, almost virginal inner flesh. "It hurts! Oh, Kris, please, you're hurting me."
"Yeah, that's because your little pussy is so nice and tight. Just the way I like it. Relax, baby, the best is yet to come."
Sadistically, he began working yet another rigidly extended finger up into her tightly protesting cunt, spreading the two of them inside her like scissors and stretching the elastic-like muscles wide. Then he began slowly plunging them in and out, each stroke taking !aim farther and farther up into her cringing young vaginal depths until his fingertips touched the tender cushiony surface of her cervix. He was pleased to feel her young feminine moisture beginning to flow freely, stimulated by the steady pumping of his hands.
At the same time, his young teenage admirer felt her discomfort begin to change into subtle twinges of pleasure; and she could not restrain herself from twisting her pelvis wantonly and forcing his rigid fingers even more deeply up inside her while his hot blood-filled cock throbbed hard and stiff against her roundly jiggling buttocks. The youngster felt as if her body was beginning to operate now totally out of her control, and was responding to Kris's obscene demands as if it had been waiting patiently for something like this to happen. A rush of heat rippled through her body; and in ecstasy, her legs gave way beneath her, and she began sliding to her knees, supported only by her sex-hungry lover's fingers inside her feverishly contracting pussy. In perfect synchronization to her movment, Kris lowered himself behind her, and then removed his moisture-drenched fingers from her vaginal depths as the lust-weakened girl fell forward onto her belly on the lush carpet, her breasts crushed against the thick pile as she gasped for breath.
The sight of the abused, half-drunken girl trembling helplessly with arousal on the floor of his apartment acted on the twisted song writer's mind like a powerful stimulant. Gripping the massive girth of his heavily throbbing cock in his hand, he leered down at her nakedly quivering buttocks. His brain was feeling with obscene thoughts, and for a moment he was tempted to fuck her in her virgin little asshole, nestled so invitingly there between the soft mounds of her whitely glistening ass-cheeks. But he thought better of it.
He had already put the naive girl through quite a bit of his own particular brand of kinky sensuality; and he knew if he went too far, he could easily drive her away. No, this appetizing hunk of adolescent flesh was too precious a gift for him to risk losing so soon. Take it slow, he reminded himself, and there'll be plenty more later. Right now his cock was burning to get up inside of her tight pink cunt and fuck her shitless. The mere thought of it was driving him half-mad with desire.
"Kneel up on all fours, baby," he commanded. The sound of his lust-thickened voice reached Candy's ears like a distant rumble. Her mind and body, weakened by alcohol and heated to the boiling point by unleashed sexuality, was numb to reason or sanity. She was his slave now, his submissive toy, and the helpless teenager struggled up into the slavish position, willing now to do whatever she was told, wanting only to please this strange young man who dominated her emotions and held sway over her bodily impulses. Surely he could see that she was mature and sophisticated; not shocked by his obscene lusts. Like a dumb, but hopeful young puppy, she raised herself on her hands and knees and kneeled there with her buttocks high in the air behind her in complete submission.
"Fine, baby, you're doing just great," Kris said as he leaned down and gripped the pliant. flesh of the degradingly positioned teenager's whitely quivering buttocks, forcing them higher up into the air until they were right where he wanted them. "Now squirm your ass around, Candy, get me real hot. Tell me you want me to fuck you." A new torrent of shame overcame the confused young brunette at his lurid command. But she was determined to please him, and so she squirmed lewdly in place, spreading her legs wide and wiggling her buttocks and the soft, hair-lined fringes of her cunt back at him in an obscene invitation to fuck her.
"Louder! Like you really want it! Because you do, don't you? Don't you?" The agonizing teenager realized that she did want him to fuck her; in fact, her hotly pulsing body demanded it, no matter what inner reservations she still clung to. A wave of overwhelming desire for the bizarre older man surged through her, and she could no longer fight the inevitable.
"Yesss," she groaned finally, the never-before-spoken words pouring out in a torrent from the young girl's quivering lips, "I want you to fuck me ... fuck me!" She shut her eyes tightly and hot tears of shame came unexpectedly out of the corners to pour down her flushed cheeks. Was that her voice pleading so lewdly? What would her step-father think if he knew she was doing such terrible things?
"Tell me you want my prick in your cunt. Say it now!" Kris ordered, half-mad with power over the vulnerable teenager.
"I ... I want your ... your prick ... in my cunt. Yes.. . YESSSSSSS! I WANT YOUR PRICK IN MY CUNT!"
Ecstatic with delight over her tumultuous response, Kris quickly positioned himself behind her, kneeling in between her legs and placed the pounding head of his lustily swollen member at the seeping entrance to her backward-proffered young pussy. Candy shivered with lurid expectation as she watched in the mirror, bracing herself for what was to come - the second fuck of her whole life! Somehow her obscenely shouted cries had oddly freed her from the last of her anxieties. She no longer cared if her father found out what was happening! She had to free herself, to become a woman, not a sniveling little girl! And now she wanted him more than anything in the world. Oh God! She wanted him to fuck her from behind!
"Aaaaieeee!" she screamed as he suddenly plunged his hard, lust-thickened penis deep into her tightly clasping cuntal sheath, sliding it in to the hilt with one cruel, hard-thrusting lunge that sent her hurtling forward. His sperm-bloated testicles bounced luridly against the backs of her firm-fleshed adolescent thighs as slowly he began to fuck up into her upraised cunt, stroking his pulsating cock in and out, making a lewd wet sluicing sound that kept time with the soft drum beat coming from the stereo speakers.
Nothing satisfied Kris more than the abuse and ravaging of helpless-in-love teenage girls, the younger the better; for it increased his sense of raw male potency, and provided fuel to the dark side of his compulsive sensual nature, which, since his astonishing financial success, had daily grown more demanding. Brutally screwing the helplessly kneeling girl from behind excited the amoral song writer as nothing had for a long time; and he licked his lips with lewd relish as he plowed upwards into her widespread vaginal flesh with long, buttock-flattening strokes, reveling in the surge of masculine strength that tore through him with each battering lunge.
"Uuuuuunnnnngggghhh," the tortured girl groaned as hot flickers of savage passion began to ripple spontaneously through her newly awakened young body. It seemed to her that her ravaged flesh actually craved the cruel fucking he was giving her, craved it from the depths of her being, craved even the shame of being forced to watch his heavily burgeoning cock pistoning in and out of her in the full-length mirror. "Ooooohhhh," she mewled, animal-like, as warm, urgent pleasure began to envelop her hungering body. An irresistible pleasure began to envelop her hungering body. An irresistible passion gnawing deep within her cock-ravaged cunt drove the wanton teenager nearly incoherent with pleasure, and she watched the lewd image in the mirror, her eyes wide with familiar thrills.
She dug her knees down into the plush carpet and gritted her teeth as overwhelming, blind lust rippled in heat waves through her helplessly responding body. Unconsciously, her smooth, white, nakedly upraised buttocks began to move back to meet Kris's merciless strokes, while the music filled her brain, driving her on, out of her conscious control, into a maelstrom of sexual feeling that the uncomprehending teenager had never even imagined existed. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight of Kris's sinewy, sweat-drenched body squirming and twisting into her from behind, taking her to excruciating heights of pleasure as her young loins churned with newly-discovered lust.
` ` O o o o o o o o h h h h , K r i s ! KKKRRRIIISSSSS!" she wailed deliriously, "FUUUUCCCCKKKK MEEEEEEE GOOOOOOOODDD!"
"Go, Candy, go! FUCK ME BACK WITH YOUR HOT LITTLE PIECE OF TEENAGE PUSSY!" he roared back like a sex-crazed stallion. He began to fuck her mercilessly now, while the demoniacally aroused young adolescent wailed and bucked beneath him.
Candy babbled and groaned incoherently, carried away by the bestial force of her copulation. She wanted it to go on forever; and yet at the same time, she was hungry to experience the mind-shattering release she knew was coming. Forgotten was her sense of shame and guilt, forgotten was her uncle and her fears about his reaction if he should discover her sinful disobedience. All she cared about was the delicious throbbing in her lust-battered pussy as she plunged her quivering buttocks backward to receive each thrillingly deep blow from Kris's mercilessly lunging penis. Her cuntal depths were drenched with moisture now, and throbbed incessantly.
Her sex-and-alcohol-glazed eyes were transfixed at the sight of their obscenely locked bodies in the mirror, like two mindless beasts, copulating with all their strength. Suddenly her body was racked with new, even more galvanic thrills, intense beyond belief, and the lewd adolescent knew instinctively that she was approaching the torrid peak of their wild union.
Kris's passion was also mounting rapidly. His lust-tightened balls swelled with boiling sperm as they slapped lewdly against the delirious adolescent's quivering thighs. His hotly swollen cock shuddered wildly as the moment of his orgasm drew closer.
And suddenly he was there! His strong, muscular frame jerked spasmodically as he jetted his thickly scalding semen deep up into Candy's hungrily milking cuntal depths. Wave after wave of white-hot cum spurted from his massively throbbing cock-head, making him feel triumphant, like a Barbarian chieftain at the moment of victory.
Simultaneously, Candy felt herself opening, opening unbelievably like a hot sunflower, her white young belly filled almost to the bursting point by the force of the older man's hotly jetting male sperm.
"Oh, God!" she moaned. "Oh, God, don't stop. I' m ... I'm cumming, cccuuummmmmminnng!"
A thrilling inner earthquake rumbled in her fifteen year old pussy, and she was carried away by the force of it, able only to groan and wail like some incoherent animal. Blindly and wildly she fucked back onto his blood-engorged rod, her vaginal muscles eagerly sucking and grasping it, drinking and coaxing up into it every delicious drop of his scalding male seed. Their two naked bodies rocked together for what seemed like hours, until finally Kris's penis relaxed into limp flaccidity inside her semen-drenched cunt. He withdrew from her slowly, her young vaginal depths still shuddering hotly from the overwhelming climax, and rolled over, exhausted, on the floor.
Candy fell forward in a heap on her belly, and for a few moments neither of them moved. The fifteen year old girl could scarcely believe what had happened to her. She had cum for only the second time in her life with a man, and under circumstances that would normally have shocked her totally. Yet despite her anxieties about Kris's strange behavior and demands, she had experienced something so fantastically pleasurable that she could only wonder at the power of it as she lay breathless and still hot with passion on the carpet of his studio apartment with all of San Francisco Bay at her feet.
"Not bad, Candy," her lust-driven lover remarked. "You learn fast, you know that? Real fast."
Pathetic little cunt, he thought to himself, but nice all the same. And only fifteen. Mmmmmmmm.
Chapter 5
The next few days passed for Candy as though she were in a dream. Her thoughts were constantly on Kris Sherman and the extraordinary experience they had shared in his apartment on Russian Hill. Her eyes had a faraway look most of ,the time, as she went over and over in her mind every instant of their frenzied fucking. Although there had been things about it that had shocked and stunned her, she put them aside, preferring to linger lovingly on the memory of the potent new feelings that Kris's obscene demands had awakened in her.
For although she didn't fully understand it, she was rapidly becoming enthralled with the bizarre sexual world she had stumbled into by her meeting with Kris Sherman. Julie ... Julie ... the words echoed in her brain with hypnotic repetitiveness, blocking out whatever stirrings of conscience or common sense she still clung to. All she had to do was reflect on the feeling and the mirror-reflected sight of Kris's blood-thickened penis pistoning up into her excitedly hot cunt from behind to become completely consumed with warm feelings of sensuality that blocked out all other considerations. Wasn't it proof of their very special love, after all, that she didn't even need to be near him to become aroused at the thought of their lovemaking?
They had planned to meet again the following weekend, so it was with some surprise that Candy answered the phone on Wednesday morning just before she left for school and heard his voice on the other end.
"Kris?" she whispered in disbelief, keeping her voice low so as not to attract the attention of her uncle, who was sipping his coffee in the kitchen. "What is it? Is anything wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, Baby," he replied. "I just wanted to tell you I'm coming down today to the motel. Can you get away? Don't say no, 'cause I've just got to have a little more of what you gave me on Saturday. I mean I just can't wait."
"Who's on the phone, Candy?" Tim Allen called out.
"It's ... it's just Amy," Candy lied quickly. "She wants me to bring a book she loaned me to school today."
"Quick thinking, Baby," Kris congratulated from the other end. "Now tell me you can meet me this afternoon - about three, okay?"
"Gee, Kris, I don't know. I'll have to cut my last class and I may have a test. I don't know if I can get away." Nervously she began doodling on the message pad by the phone.
"What's the matter, Baby? Don't you want to see me?"
"Of course I do, more than anything in the world. It's just that I don't know if I can miss that test."
"Baby, life with me is full of surprises. You'll just have to get used to it."
Candy's heart thrilled at his words. Life with him! The romantic girl could hardly believe he had actually said it. In her mind, that could only mean one thing. Kris loved her. He wanted to spend his whole life with her! And that was what she wanted too, more than anything. She had to prove to him that she was grown up enough for his kind of life, no matter what the risk!
"All right," she consented. "Where will I meet you?"
"Same place - Pacifica Motel, Room 8. And Baby, I've got a little surprise for you today, so don't be late."
"A surprise? What is it?"
"Now if I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise anymore, would it?" he teased. "Just be there this afternoon, and you'll find out."
"I will, and Kris, I ... I love you. I'll do anything you want, always, you know that?"
Her lover laughed darkly at her words, and almost felt a twinge of guilt. "I'll keep that in mind, baby. Gotta run now, see you later."
Before Candy had a chance to reply, he hung up; and the stunned youngster replaced the receiver in its cradle and stood staring dreamily at the wall.
"Come on, Candy, get moving," her uncle's voice interrupted. "You'll be late for school."
"I'm coming," his niece replied, pouting a little at his authoritarian manner. Then she grabbed her books and followed him out the door, not even realizing that in her agitation, she had absent-mindedly scrawled on the message pad, Pacifica, No. 8, 3 o'clock.
* * *
Just before three that afternoon, she was on the bus that would take her to her destination. As the lumbering vehicle crawled past stop after stop, Candy found her heart beating faster and faster, both with anticipation at seeing Kris again, and also with uneasiness. For Amy hadn't been at school that day, and she'd had no opportunity to set up an alibi in case her step-father got home early. She'd just have to get home before he did, unless ...
Her mind could barely encompass the thought that had been haunting her ever since Kris's phone call. Supposing the surprise was that ... that he wanted her to run away with him, now, today? Just the way Julie's lover changed his mind in the song. Mentally she rehearsed the conversation she might have with him, how he would look as he asked her, and how she would melt lovingly into his arms as she gave her answer. Her mind filled with romantic images, she practically flew off the bus and across to the Pacifica Motel, directly to the room where his van was parked.
To her surprise, however, there was no answer when she knocked. After knocking a second time, she tried the door, found it unlocked, and slipped inside. The room was empty, but from the things scattered around, she could tell that Kris had been there.
Then her eye was caught by a note lying on the pillow. "Candy," it read, "I've gone out for drinks. Be right back. Wait here. Kris."
Reassured, Candy decided to take advantage of her lover's absence to freshen up after the long day at school. She went into the bathroom and turned on the light. Immediately she stopped, surprised. Spread out on the back of the sink were cosmetics: lipstick, mascara, some eye shadow, and a small atomizer of perfume. Someone else was here with Kris. A woman!
Stunned, Candy stared in disbelief. Kris hadn't told her anything about this! Who could it be? Puzzled, she went back into the. bedroom. Now she noticed that the bed was unmade, as though it had been slept in. At first she had just assumed Kris had taken a nap while waiting for her to arrive; but now, the unmade bed took on another possible significance, one that made her heart almost stop. Had Kris been in bed with someone else? No! No, it couldn't be! But looking around, she saw a silk scarf, and on the floor on the far side of the bed, some nylon panty hose!
Before she had time to react, however, the door opened and Kris came in. Behind him were two others, a thin man who seemed to be in his late twenties, and a tall voluptuous young woman with black hair.
"Hey, Baby," Kris grinned, coming over to her and lifting her off her feet in a hearty bear hug. "I thought you'd be here when we got back!" He planted a warm wet kiss on her mouth, worming his tongue inside and running his hands over her thinly clad young breasts. She wiggled out of his grasp, embarrassed at being so intimately caressed in the presence of two strangers.
"Hello," she whispered, blushing and scarcely knowing where to look. The two strangers were watching the scene with amusement, their eyes roving frankly over the ripe curves of Candy's body. Seeing her glance in the direction of the door, Kris hastened to make introductions.
"Candy, this is Earl and Greta," he began, slipping his arm around her confused shoulders and allowing his hand to slip all the way inside her blouse and brassiere so that his warm fingers closed around the soft flesh of her naked breasts. "They're the surprise I told you about. I told them about you, and they just didn't believe you were real, so I told them to come and see for themselves."
"How ... how do you do?" Candy said shyly. What did Kris mean, `see for themselves', she wondered? And what was it that they didn't believe?
"Hey, Candy, real nice to meet you," Earl replied, looking her over. He was a short thin man with curly hair, clad in a pair of tight corduroy pants and an old turtleneck sweater. There was something frightening to Candy about the way he looked at her; and his smile seemed cruel. But if he was Kris's friend, she would do her best to be nice to him, although she had to fight to suppress her disappointment that the surprise Kris had told her about was not what she had imagined.
She then turned to greet the black haired woman Kris introduced as Greta. At least she was relieved that her momentary suspicions about Kris were unfounded. Greta must be Eddie's girlfriend. For the first time, Candy allowed herself to look openly at the newly arrived female, and she had to admit she was very glad to know the older woman wasn't a rival, for she was stunningly attractive in a way that made Candy feel very conscious of her own youth and naivete. She had short hair that was perfectly set, and she was wearing the shortest pair of shorts the naive teenager had ever seen. They set off her long tapering legs to perfection and hugged her hips and buttocks so tightly that they pressed right up between her legs, and Candy could clearly see the outline of the two fleshy cushions of her outer vaginal lips. Over the tight shorts, she wore a man's work shirt, knotted obviously unencumbered by any brassiere; for Candy could see the dark shadow of her nipples, and the way the two fleshy mounds jiggled when she moved. Greta looked to be in her mid-twenties, and when she spoke her voice had just a tinge of condescension.
"Well, well, well, Kris," she purred, taking Candy's hand and gazing at her frankly. "So this is your little teenage sex queen. You were right about one thing, she certainly is pretty."
Then, to Candy's surprise, the sultry brunette leaned over and kissed her directly on the mouth! She pulled back, scarcely knowing what to do, looking for Kris for guidance.
"But I don't think she's as hip as you said," Greta concluded a little disdainfully, releasing Candy's hand.
"What do you mean?" Candy asked, frowning at the older woman's tone.
Greta was about to answer when Kris interrupted. "Keep your pants on, Greta, and let me handle this," he ordered, drawing Candy over to the bed and pouring her a ready-mixed daiquiri from a can on the nightstand. Feeling unnerved by the strange events, Candy drank it, almost without realizing that it wasn't lemonade, grateful for having something to do to still her trembling hands.
"What's going on, Kris?" she asked softly. "Who are these people?"
"I told you, Baby, they're friends of mine."
"But why did you bring them today?"
"I told you, I was telling them about you, and how you were a swinger and all, and they didn't believe me. They said you must be a square little teenybopper scarcely out of diapers, so I decided to bring them along so you could all meet each other, and we could have a party."
"A party?"
"Yeah. Instead of just you and me this time, I figured the four of us could make it. You know what I mean?"
"No," Candy replied. "I don't think I do."
Greta and Earl laughed shortly, but Kris silenced them with a glance. He began to caress Candy's shoulders with his hands, running his powerful fingers sensuously over her arms and neck as he continued to speak.
"See, it's a little hard to explain, and maybe it'll shock you a little, but when you see how important it is to me, I think you'll understand. See, Earl and Greta are my friends, and they think I'm making a big mistake getting involved with you because you're so young. But I told them you're not like other girls, you're different, no hangups... " The smooth talking songwriter stroked Candy's body as though he couldn't take his hands off her. All the while, he was looking soulfully into her eyes as he spun the web of lies he had prepared to draw her even further into his sexual snare.
From the sidelines, Greta and Earl watched with barely concealed amusement as Kris's voice droned on; and the naive teenage girl gave him her rapt attention. Christ, Greta thought, I haven't heard a line like that in years! Mentally she decided to make note of it, so she could use it at some later date when she herself was trying to get some ripe little piece of teenage ass into bed. After what Kris was saying wasn't entirely untrue, except that what she and Earl had greeted with disbelief the previous night, after a long session of mutual sucking and fucking, was the notion that any girl in this day and age could be as hopelessly naive as Kris's description of Candy indicated. But judging from what they had seen so far, he was right. The child was incredible. Well, Greta didn't mind that. The thought of getting a taste of that lush and underage cunt was enough to make her overlook a lot of things. And Kris had promised her that she would have plenty of opportunity to indulge in her favorite sexual fancies this afternoon. The girl would do anything he told her to, he had assured them. Now, as she let her eyes roam lazily over Candy's ripe young body, Greta found herself hoping he was right, though from the worried frown that was wrinkling the girl's pretty features, she wasn't so sure.
" ... so I brought Greta and Earl along. I took the risk," Kris's voice went on earnestly, "so we could show them, in bed, where it really matters, that what we have is really special."
Candy's mind reeled from the things her older lover was telling her. Apparently he wanted ... wanted her to let him make love to her, with his two friends watching, or even ... even to let them make love to her too!
Her mind recoiled in horror at the suggestion. She couldn't believe that Kris would ask such a thing of her. It' was incomprehensible. Doubtfully, she looked at the other three people in the room. Kris was working his hand up her leg, under her skirt, and Earl was openly massaging the thick bulge in the front of his pants. Greta ran her pink tongue over her lips as her gaze met Candy's and she looked lasciviously up and down her body. Candy felt faint, both with the realization of what her lover actually wanted, and with the effect of the alcohol. This wasn't the romantic love affair she had dreamed of! This was dirty and depraved! It seemed that her whole dream world had suddenly fallen.
"No!" she suddenly burst out, twisting away from Kris and burying her head in her hands, fighting down sobs of heartbreak. "I ... I can't do it! It's terrible!"
Kris looked at her in feigned disbelief and disappointment. "No?" he asked softly, pulling her hands away from her face and looking deeply into her eyes.
"What did I tell you, Kris?" Greta taunted, getting to her feet, picking up her cues and beginning to take an active role in the proceedings. "She's just a dumb young kid out for a few kicks, something to write in her diary before she settles down with an insurance salesman. You're wasting your time."
Candy could feel hot tears pouring out of her eyes at the older woman's taunting words. It wasn't true! It wasn't! Surely Kris didn't believe that, not after all they had enjoyed together.
But to her surprise, her lover got up from the bed, looking sadly down at her, and began to gather up his things.
"I guess you're right, Greta," he murmured with feigned despair. "She's just too young ... "
Suddenly Candy felt a flood of anger break loose. What kind of power did those two have over Kris anyway? All at once it began to fall together in a pattern she could understand; for she was too far committed to the older man to even consider that she was being cooly exploited for purely sexual ends. No! It must be his friends. They had led him into a cruel, twilight world of degeneracy. That was the world he was trying to escape, through her! She was sure of it. She couldn't abandon him now! He needed her, needed her young love to free him from the mysterious grip of these two degenerates. Why else would he look so sad and downcast as he heard the refusal?
The idea seemed to clarify everything Candy hadn't been able to understand before ... Kris's strange, almost cruel sexuality, his bizarre demands. He needed her to show him there really was another world, the world of his songs, the gentle romantic world that flowed from his music like liquid honey. She had to save him, and she would! She couldn't abandon him to the clutches of people like Greta. If he believed them, perhaps ... perhaps he'd never write another song!
"Wait!" she cried, stopping them at the door. "Kris, I'll ... I'll do anything you want. I ... I love you!"
The three exchanged looks, unseen by Candy, and then Kris came back to the bed.
"Atta girl, Candy," he cooed triumphantly. "I knew you wouldn't let me down in front of my friends."
Dimly she wondered why he didn't reply that he loved her too, but she had no time to dwell on the thought; for suddenly her lover was on the bed beside her, unbuckling his belt and kneeling behind her, pulling her backwards so that her head was cradled on his lap, while his hands reached down to unbutton her blouse. Leaning over her, he kissed her hotly on the lips, inserting his tongue into her mouth and circling it lewdly around over her lips and teeth. Candy felt the familiar hot thrills begin to course through her young body, and she lifted up so he could undo the clasp of her bra and slip it and her blouse down off her shoulders.
Now her entire upper torso was naked, and his hands seized the two quivering, pink-tipped mounds of her breasts and squeezed and kneaded them hungrily. As if to give herself courage, the half-undressed teenager reached back with her hands to stroke his body, opening her mouth to welcome his lewdly probing tongue.
Greta, meanwhile, had already stripped off her skimpy clothes, and was looking at the outstretched body of the teenager with open lust. Candy's legs dangled over the edge of the bed onto the floor, and the sex-hungry brunette quickly went over and knelt on the floor between them to remove Candy's shoes and hose. Then she began running her manicured hands over the smooth white flesh of the girl's naked legs, inching her way upward under Candy's skirt until she felt the silky smoothness of her bikini panties. Slipping her fingers into the tight elastic waistband, she peeled them down over Candy's hips, then shoved the girl's skirt back so she could gaze at her nearly virginal pussy.
Feeling the unaccustomed touch of someone else's hands on her bare flesh, and then the removal of her panties, Candy squirmed in Kris's grasp to see what was happening. The first thing that met her eyes was Earl, halfway across the room, stripping off his clothes. Her eyes fell in shock on his thickly upstanding cock, far too large for his frail body. With a sudden rush, she realized that if Earl was in another part of the room, then it must be Greta whose hands were running over her naked flesh. The realization made her recoil in confusion; and forgetting for a moment her resolution to `save' Kris, she began to wriggle away. This was sinful! Depraved!
But Kris's strong hands held her in place. "Relax, Baby," he murmured. "Trust me; you'll dig it!"
He himself was hotly aroused by what was beginning to take place; and, in fact, he had been keenly looking forward to seeing his compliant teenage girlfriend's naked young body ravaged at the same time by both Greta and Earl. He wasn't about to let her stop now, not when they were just getting started. Greta was kneeling naked on the floor at the side of the bed, just waiting to plunge her tongue deep into Candy's nakedly glistening cunt. His cock throbbed excitedly and he leaned over, pinning Candy's shoulders down to the mattress with his hands and kissing her feverishly.
Sensing that the moment had come, Greta pulled at Candy's legs, drawing her downward on the bed until her cunt was within easy reach of the black haired woman's lips and hands. With tender movements, her fingers trembling with intense arousal, she parted the sparsely hair-lined flesh, spreading Candy's full young thighs even farther apart to reveal the complete moist pinkness of her vaginal crevice. Emitting a low moan of ecstasy, Greta thrust her face hungrily into the teenage girl's hot wet pussy, imparting feverish kisses to the curl-fringed lips, pressing her head still deeper into Candy's sensually tingling young cunt.
All at once the sex-crazed woman's tongue made searing contact with the quiveringly sensitive bud of Candy's clitoris, and she began to circle it tauntingly. Despite her shock and horror at the knowledge that it was not only a total stranger, but a woman, who was performing this lewd act on her naked vagina, Candy could not restrain a low, involuntary moan of lust; and, at the same time, in a purely instinctive reaction, she reached down and wrapped her hands unwittingly in Greta's short black hair, pressing the older woman's head farther up into her wetly glistening cuntal split. Sensing her receptive response, Greta let her own hands slide upward over the trembling adolescent's satin-soft belly to her youthfully firm breasts, pushing Kris's hands away so that she could completely encompass the stiff-pointed mounds while her hungry mouth and tongue continued their lurid assault on the girl's now hotly spasming clitoris.
Eagerly Greta licked and sucked, nipping the tiny pleasure bud between her teeth. Then she drew her tongue downward, laving it lewdly around the tight little entrance to the quivering adolescent's visibly throbbing vagina. Abandoning herself totally to her desires, she began to lick and suck around the nakedly pulsing little opening, moaning and mewling her erotic pleasure. She could feel her own pussy vibrating with increasing passion, moistly secreting its heated female fluid in anticipation of the orgasm to come.
Kris meanwhile pulled away from his writhing young girlfriend, and got up to take off his clothes. His friend Earl was taking a healthy swig of another daiquiri, pausing from time to time to massage the aching stiffness of his rigid cock as he gaped at the two females writhing sensually together - Candy on the motel room bed, and Greta on her kness in front of her on the floor.
"Have something to drink," he offered Kris drunkenly.
"Thanks," the lewdly grinning song writer replied. He slipped off his jeans, leaving himself totally naked, and took a can from his friend. Taking a deep swallow, he let the potent liquid course down his throat, and then he turned his gaze to the obscene sight of Greta and Candy in the midst of their lewd lesbian lovemaking. Christ, he thought as he ogled the writhing naked flesh of the two women. Is there anything sexier than two gals kissing and sucking pussy?
Candy, forced to submit to the woman's greedy tongue-fucking of her openly spread young cunt found herself slowly being drawn into a mind-boggling sea of salacious sexual delight. Her mouth-moistened young pussy, driven wildly hot by Greta's artful probing, was pulsing with a life of its own, making waves of warm wet desire ripple through every part of her yearning body. Nothing mattered anymore except the wonderful burning sensations that tore through her vibrating young cunt; and hardly conscious of what she was doing, she spread her thighs wider in open invitation and began to moan in rapture as the feverishly sucking woman thrust her long pink tongue. deeply upward into her seething vaginal passage, rotating it around in a way that made the helpless fifteen year old shudder in a helpless all-consuming passion.
Kris and Earl, now hopeless victims of the power of the alcohol, were laughing coarsely, as they watched the two women they began to eagerly stroke their long hard cocks. And on the bed, Candy began to flail her long teenage hair from side to side as the older woman swirled her expert tongue far up inside the hotly pulsing walls of her teenage pussy.
"Hey, Greta," Kris called, "swing around and get on top of her so the kid can lick your cunt too!"
Candy, lost in an erotic torrent, did not at first quite comprehend what her lover had said, and was somewhat surprised when the ravishing woman slipped her tongue out from her wetly quivering pussy. Then she felt the bed sag as Greta lifted herself onto it, swinging her thighs over the girl's shoulders, straddling her face and positioning her throbbing hot cunt directly over the wildly aroused adolescent's mouth so that they could share their mutual excitement. Bending down and supporting herself on her elbows, the black haired vixen continued to lick greedily at the warm succulent split of Candy's nakedly exposed little pussy.
When Candy finally realized what Kris was demanding, she was shocked; and once more bitterly disillusioned. How could her idol force her to do such a degrading thing: actually lick the pussyhole of another woman!
"Go on," Kris snarled, irritated by the girl's obvious hesitation. "Squirm your hot little tongue up into Greta's cunt! NOW!"
Closing her eyes and fighting back hot tears of shame and humiliation, Candy opened her mouth and timidly pushed out her tongue as Greta began to once more drive her own tongue deep up into the young girl's still hotly shuddering vaginal depths. At first the teenager recoiled from the strange feminine wetness she tasted as her tongue nervously probed at the throbbing wet flesh of the older woman's curl-fringed pussy lips. But soon, driven onward by the churning fires of desire that still raged in her loins, the naive girl gave a final moan of submission and began to explore the warmly quivering furrow, rimming her tongue teasingly around the delicate strands of pubic hair that lined the soft pink cuntal mouth. Finding the woman's stiffly pulsing clitoris, she brushed her tongue lightly over it and was startled to feel the little pink bud responding eagerly, hardening instantly.
"OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH!" Greta groaned down between Candy's legs, as Candy timidly continued to lick her lustily throbbing clitoris, "MMMmmmmmmmm ... "
Aroused now beyond all control, Candy no longer cared who she was or what she was doing! Her young body was consumed with shudders of hot desire, and she began hungrily ramming her wet little tongue eagerly up into Greta's heated vaginal walls.
Standing nearby, the song writer and his friend watched as the two ravishing females, locked together in a lewd sixty-nine position, undulated their naked bodies together with shameless desire, their wet hungry mouths crushed hotly against each other's glistening and voraciously clasping pussies as they moaned and writhed with lewd ecstatic delight.
"Oh, yeah!" Kris howled, jerking wildly at his heavily bloated cock. "Suck each other, you beautiful bitches, SUCK EACH OTHER!"
Earl grunted in agreement, and pulled obscenely on his blood-stiffened penis, his eyes straining as they roved over the hungrily tongue-fucking women. His lips curled back crudely, exposing his teeth, his raw male arousal building to thundering proportions. Kris had promised him a good afternoon of fun and games, but this was even better than he had anticipated! The beautiful Greta and a sex-crazy teenage girl, sucking and eating each other's nakedly spread cunts like their lives depended on it. Incredible!
Candy was submerged now in a sea of erotic wildly soaring ecstasy, as she speared her wetly glistening tongue upward into Greta's moistly clasping cunt, wanting to explore every inch of the succulently contracting interior walls. Meanwhile, not far away, Kris groaned in ecstasy as he continued to stroke feverishly at his hot rigid rod. Greta, equally aroused, moaned in pure animal delight as her heatedly throbbing cuntal walls began to expand and contract with increased intensity. She knew her climax was not far off now, and she doubled her efforts by plunging her tongue deep down into Candy's frantically clutching young pussy below.
"MMMMMMMMMNNNNNNNGGGGGGGG," the orgasming brunette grunted as her release began to shudder through her heatedly pulsing cunt, "RRRRRRRRNNNNNNNNN!"
Meanwhile, Candy mewled like a female animal lost in lust as she undulated her nakedly gleaming body up and down on the mattress in frantic abandon, her vaginal interior ablaze with uncontrollable desire. She felt as if she were sinking into a torrent of velvety hot softness, consumed by a tidal wave of sweet aching wetness. She was cumming ... cumming ...
` ` N u u u u n g g g g h h h h mmmmmmmmmmmm ... yesssssss," she moaned, her lips still pressed hotly to the older woman's lair-fringed cunt above.
As the two men watched Greta and the crazily squirming young teenager reach climax, they turned to each other; as if on cue, still masturbating their eagerly straining cocks.
"How about if we both fuck the hot little bitch now, Earl?" Kris said, smiling lecherously at his friend.
"Why not, man? That's what we're here for, isn't it?"
"One in front, the other behind?"
"Why not? What do you want, cunt or ass?"
"I've never fucked her hot little asshole!" Kris said. "How about you take the pussy, and I'll get her behind?"
"Solid man," Earl agreed, smirking.
On the sagging motel bed, Greta, having completed her orgasm, pulled wearily away from the pulsating cuntal split of the sex-dazed teenager. She lay back on the bed, then looked up to see her two male companions lurching drunkenly towards the bed, each gripping his swollen instrument in his hand.
"Make way, Greta baby, and let the boys get their dessert!" the two of them said, almost in unison.
Candy, still lost in the volcanic heat created by the brunette's frenzied tongue-fucking, opened her eyes and gasped as, through her blurred vision, she saw the hulking forms of Kris and Earl towering over her on the bed.
"What ... what are you going to do to me?" she groaned out in a weak, hazy voice. "What are you going to do to me?"
The only reply she got was a lewd, sexual driven laugh from the two men.
Chapter 6
While Candy was lost in the throes of her encounter with Kris and his two friends from the city, Uncle Tim, unknown to her, was just pulling up in front of their house. He had decided, on the spur of the moment, to take off early, and treat his step-daughter to dinner on Fisherman's Wharf.
"What the hell?" he said to himself. "I'm always so damn busy that I never have time to be any kind of a father. No wonder Candy and I are like strangers to each other." It was three-thirty when he left the station; and by the time he got through the late afternoon traffic, he figured Candy should be home from school.
He was surprised on his arrival to find the house empty. He went to her room to see if perhaps she had fallen asleep after school; but no one was there. In fact, it looked as though she had not come home at all, since there was no sign of her school books. For a moment, Tim was concerned.
"She's probably gone over to Amy's," he reasoned finally. "After all, I'm not due home for another hour and a half. It must be lonely for her to come home to an empty house every day."
He went to the hall phone and found Amy's number. Her mother answered the phone.
"Hello, Mrs. Johnson, this is Tim Allen. Is Candy there?"
"Oh, hello, Mr. Allen," the pleasant woman replied. "No, she's not. As a matter of fact, Amy's been home sick with a sore throat."
"I see," Allen frowned. There was something about the information that set off an alarm in his brain, but he couldn't quite place what it was. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Johnson. If by any chance she does drop in, would you ask her to call home?"
"I certainly will."
Puzzled, he stood by the phone, wondering why he felt as though something were distinctly wrong. He began to flip through the phone book where they wrote down frequently used numbers to see if there was another lead as to where his step-daughter might be. Just then his eye caught something written on the message pad in Candy's neat girlish script: Pacifica, No. 8, 3 o'clock. He stared at it, and the feeling of concern lurking in the back of his mind grew into a certainty.
Suddenly he remembered just what it was about Mrs. Johnson's comments that upset him. When the phone rang that morning, Candy had told him it was Amy, asking her to bring a book to school. But Amy hadn't gone to school so ... Candy must have been lying! But who could she have been talking to that she felt the need to lie about?
Immediately Kris Sherman's name leapt into his mind. "No," he protested to himself, "no, she wouldn't be meeting him. He's capable of it, but I can't imagine he'd really be that interested in Candy, she's only a kid."
Even as he thought, however, Tim Allen found his fingers racing through the pages of the phone book to the section under `P'. Under Pacifica, there was only the Pacifica Bowling Alley ... and the Pacifica Motel! Allen's mind reeled in shock. Was it possible that that bastard had arranged for Candy to meet him in a motel room? It was ridiculous, impossible, there was only one way to check it out. Seconds later he was on his way out the door.
* * *
Meanwhile, in the motel room, Candy cowered in fear on the bed as Kris removed her now-wrinkled skirt from where Greta had pushed it up around her waist.
"Kris, please ... " she murmured, as he pulled the skirt off.
But before she could protest further, the thin figure of Earl was slithering down next to her on the bed, enveloping her in his arms and turning her on her side so that she faced him.
"You're a nice little piece of ass, Candy," he slurred, breathing heavily on the teenager. Then, with no further warning, he clutched hotly at her naked young body and kissed her with passionate intensity, almost smothering her with his panting excitement. Quickly, he positioned his desire-bloated cock at the entrance to her tongue-moistened cunt; and with a savage groan, entered her in a single long cruel lunge, burying his thickly swollen shat up to the hilt into her throbbing, still-sex-drenched young pussy.
Candy hardly had time to accommodate herself to the crude assault when she suddenly felt her buttocks being stretched apart from behind by Kris's grasping hands; and in the next moment, he had placed a spittle-dampened finger on the small virgin ring of her anus. With a sudden shock of realization, Candy knew that he intended to fuck her there in ... up in her rectum!
Oh; NOOOOOOO! her mind screamed, they're going to sandwich-fuck me together, and Kris is ... is going to take me in the rear! I'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO TAKE IT! NOOOOOOOO! "No Kris ... ahhhhnnnnhhh, Kris, no, I can't," she screamed.
Yet there was nothing she could do; for suddenly Kris wormed his moist middle finger up into her tightly clenched little asshole, and the agonized youngster howled in pain, jerking instinctively away in an effort to escape; but Earl held her firmly in place, lunging his cock violently up into her seething wet cuntal passage and embracing her with a vise-like grip, so that she could not escape his friend's obscene rear assault. Brutally Kris wormed his finger in up to the second knuckle, making the cringing young girl cry out in torment.
Greta sprawled nearby on a chair, laughing when she heard the girl groan in protest. She'll like it soon enough, the debauched brunette' mused philosophically, in fact she'll probably go ape for it after tonight.
Kris finally withdrew his roughly probing finger from the ravaged teenager's anus; and soon he positioned his naked body behind her, pressing up against her back and placing his pulsating hot penis against the tiny puckered circle of her rectal opening. Then, with a grunt of excitement, he thrust his hips forward, driving his hardened spear of male flesh mercilessly up into her tightly closed anal hole. "AAAAARRRRRNNNNNNGGGGGHHHH!" the girl wailed in agony as his thick cock slipped painfully up inside the tightly clenching walls of her back passage. Excruciating surges of pain shot through her defenseless loins and she shuddered in agony. Surely now she had reached the lowest, most degrading experience possible. Being violently screwed in the pussy and rectum at the same time by two different men!
Her eyes filled with tears as the two men began to lunge into her from both sides, separated only by a thin membrane of flesh between her cunt and rectal passages deep inside as they slid mercilessly in and out. Young Candy was pinned between their powerful bodies, unable to escape, and consumed by the heavy torturous filling of near virginal young belly from their rampant, merciless double fuck.
"Nooooooooo," she wailed pitifully, ready to faint from the pain and humiliation she was experiencing. Yet, after a few moments, deep up inside where the cocks almost met, she felt a familiar quiver of excitement beginning to grow; and once more, warm flashes of forbidden passion began to insinuate through her abused teenage body ...
* * *
At the same time, Uncle Tim pulled his new Camaro into the Pacifica Motel parking lot. Although frantic with concern over his errant young niece, he knew that the worst thing he could do was panic. After all, he could be mistaken. She might not be here; in fact, there might be some perfectly reasonable explanation of her whereabouts. Yet, he also knew it was possible that she had been deceiving him all along and was actually still seeing Kris Sherman. Stifling his growing rage, he left the car and headed towards the window of room No. 8 to see if his niece was there.
Dusk had begun to fall, making it easy for him to slip along the pavement unobserved until he finally crouched outside the window, partially hidden by shrubbery. Slowly, his heart beating heavily, he peered inside, finding a torn space in the flimsy window covering that gave him a full view of the interior. What he saw made him gasp in shock.
His fifteen year old niece lay totally naked on the motel room bed, and -was being frantically fucked by two men at the same time! She was moaning and crying in abandoned ecstasy, sandwiched obscenely between them like a rag doll, her gleaming young body thrashing in torrid response to the intense thrills of her double-fucking. One of the men was a total stranger; but the other he knew at once was Kris Sherman! Nothing had prepared Allen for the volcanic revelation that he witnessed; and he was paralyzed in shock, unable to do anything but stare in utter disbelief at what he saw.
MY GOD! his tortured mind cried. MY GOD!
Unaware that they were being observed, Earl and Kris drove mercilessly into the twin channels of the wetly glistening body of Allen's young niece. Candy now cried out in utter rapture as the two hotly throbbing penises fucked wildly into her. Her shame and humiliation had long since vanished in the return of the torrential passion that had once more taken complete possession of her aroused young mind and body.
"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH," she wailed suddenly as she reached the pinnacle of her passion; and climax after violent climax tore swiftly through her cock-filled young loins.
Sensing her abandoned orgasm, the two men renewed their merciless fucking. Their two massively inflated cocks drove into her with brutal strength as they grew closer to their own aching moment of release.
"UUUUUUNNNNNNGGGGGHHHHH SHIT! SHHHHITTTTT!" the lust-maddened song writer howled as his sperm-bloated testicles suddenly tightened and began to erupt their scalding load deep up into Candy's tightly milking little rectal passage.
"UUUUUUNNNNGGGGHHHH!"
Earl, however, held off as long as possible, not wanting to hurry the roaring rush of passion that exploded in his genitals. Yet, in the next moment, he could contain himself no longer; and with a cry, he began spurting wave after wave of white-hot cum out of the parted glans of his thrusting cock, emptying himself with deep guttural moans and filling the ravaged teenager's openly sucking vagina with his hot liquid sperm.
Meanwhile, Tim Allen, wrenching himself free of the paralyzing shock, rushed to the door of the motel room, heaved against it with his shoulders, and suddenly came crashing into the room, taking the others by complete surprise.
"What the ... " Kris said, suddenly seeing the face and form of Candy's uncle standing in the doorway.
"You son of a bitch!" Tim Allen roared, slamming the door behind him. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"
Candy, realizing what happened, cried in alarm as she realized her uncle had discovered her in the midst of the most shameful moment of her life! Quickly; as the two men retreated and climbed into their pants, she drew a sheet up around her trembling nakedness.
"Oh, Uncle Tim, how did you find me here?" she wailed.
"I'll deal with you later, Candy," Allen snapped, shooting an outraged glance at his cowering offspring.
"Say, what goes on here?" Greta asked, as she quickly slipped into her clothes. "Who is this guy, Kris?"
"I'm Candy's Uncle," the angry man spit. "And now," he snarled, turning to Kris, "You tell me what's going on here, or I'll bust your jaw!"
"It's pretty obvious, isn't it?" the song writer shot back as he zipped his pants. "Candy and I were just having a little fun."
With a roar of anger, Tim lurched towards the song writer and began to grapple with him violently. Needing no further urging, Greta slipped out the door to wait until the men straightened the mess out. Meanwhile, Earl pulled Kris and Tim Allen apart.
"I'm going to get the police!" Tim threatened, "I'll have you sent up for this!"
"You're not going to do anything, not if you don't want your niece's name wrecked for the rest of her life!" he shouted back.
"What ... what are you talking about?"
"Look, Allen," Kris explained smugly, "your niece wanted to keep seeing me. Can I help that?"
"Kris... " Candy murmured weakly, hardly believing his words.
"Happens to me all the time, you know," he continued. "I guess they get hot for me because of the songs. I can't help that."
"She happens to be under age, my friend, did you think of that?"
"Sure. Go ahead, call the cops. But I'll make such a stink, your niece'll be more famous than I am. My agent would love it, 'cause it'd really pick up sales. You want your niece's face on every scandal sheet in the country? It's up to you. I don't give a shit. To me, she's just another hot little piece of pussy."
Candy burst into tears as he spoke so heartlessly; and Allen felt the impulse to smash the arrogant young man in the face. But he knew also that he was trapped. Sherman was right; he had the upper hand unless he himself was willing to expose his niece to an ugly sex trial. He had seen sensational scandals like that before and knew that the girl was always the one who got hurt. The lawyers would tear her apart on the stand and make it all look like her fault -He'd seen it happen too many times in rape trials. No, he couldn't do that to Candy, no matter how he felt. Sadly, he turned to the disheveled, ravaged form of his young step-daughter who still lay trembling under the tightly clutched sheet.
"Candy ... I think you'd better get dressed, honey."
Obediently, she got up, keeping the sheet around her well fucked young body while she searched for her clothes.
"Glad to see you understand my point of view, Allen," Kris said wryly. "We wouldn't want to hurt Candy, would we?"
With the irony of his last remark, the crushed adolescent paused for a moment to look at the man to whom she had given her love and her virginity. She realized then what a total fool she had been, believing he was just like the heros of his songs. Why, he probably had been laughing up his sleeve at her the entire time, taking advantage of her tenderness and her innocence. SHE HAD GIVEN HIM EVERYTHING AND HE HAD BETRAYED HER! Not only that, but her uncle had seen it all! Defiantly struggling to keep her shattered self-esteem from collapsing entirely, she gulped back tears of anguish and finished dressing.
"Sherman," Tim remarked menacingly, "if I ever see that ugly face of yours within a hundred miles of Candy again, I swear I'll beat the shit out of you!"
"Sure, I understand your point. But you don't have to sweat it. I get all the pussy I need; one less teeny-bopper, I don't even notice."
Numbly Candy buttoned her blouse and smoothed her rumpled skirt. Then, not daring to look at either Kris or her uncle, she moved toward the door.
"I'd ... I'd like to go home now."
Chapter 7
Driving home together, Uncle Tim and Candy remained tensely silent with each other, not knowing what to say; each one's mind brooding with an uneasy mixture of outrage and embarrassment. Tim Allen could not get the picture of his lewdly abandoned fifteen year old niece, moaning incoherently as she was being sandwich-fucked by two older men, out of his brain; he had been shocked to the very roots of his being. His dead twin brother's daughter, tortured and degraded by a derelict song writer and his degenerate friends in a broken-down motel room! How could Candy have let herself get involved with these people? And where might he have failed as a guardian that this beautiful young girl could be such easy prey to people like Kris Sherman? He had done his damnedest, hadn't he, to be a good foster parent, despite all the difficulties with his wife? Now he found himself deeply resentful of Candy, and almost insulted by her outrageous deception of him.
And she, seated next to him, tried to keep as much physical distance between them as possible. She felt ashamed, and yet defiant as well; bitterly remorseful that he should have seen her under those circumstances, but also angry that he had been following her, and hurt that he had no pity over the fact that she had been betrayed by Kris. Maybe she never would have done it if he hadn't been such a hypocrite with her beloved Mummy. Hadn't she seen for herself how cruel he could be to satisfy his selfish passions? Why should she care now what she did with her life or whom she chose to be with? It was his fault, his fault for not being enough of a real father! His fault for breaking Mummy's heart!
The troubled girl realized they were home, for her uncle turned off the street into their driveway. But everything looked different now, she realized in surprise! All the old streets and the ticky-tacky houses were different, even at night. She realized in the next moment that it was not her environment that had changed - she was different! She had changed in ways she could barely comprehend. She wasn't the same innocent fifteen year old she had been a few weeks before. Her childhood was over. But what was left of Candy? Who was she now? A frown of bewilderment crossed her brow as she got out of the car and went ahead into the house.
Moments later, she sat sullenly on the living room sofa, her fingers tracing an outline along the edge of a pillow, as her step-father finished off two unusually large martinis. She could sense his resentment of her as he took a deep swallow of his third drink. His back was turned to her, but she knew he was getting ready to lecture her again. Men, she thought contemptuously, as she became conscious of a throbbing ache in her loins. Maybe they're all alike, all liars and hypocrites!
Tim Allen turned to face his niece and step-daughter, his tortured brain already affected by the liquor. He watched Candy staring defiantly ahead of her, as if she had a perfect right to behave the way she had, like a slut, a common whore!
"Why did you do it, Candy?" he finally asked.
"Why did I do what?" she replied, deliberately avoiding his eyes.
"Why did you disobey me and continue to see Kris Sherman?"
There was a long silence in the room as he waited for her to reply. He took another sip of his martini and 'his tightly muscled body grew warm and flushed. His niece lifted her head, her eyes flashing vividly with independence.
"Because I wanted to see him again ... because I loved him!"
"Loved him!" Tim cried in both anguish and disbelief. "He's nothing but a degenerate bastard!"
Candy rose from the couch, livid with anger. "Don't you say that," she spat fiercely. "Don't you talk about him like that. You have no right!"
"No right?"
"You're no better than he is," she hissed, suddenly possessed by a wave of overwhelming anger. "You forced Mummy to suck you! I SAW WHAT YOU DID! YOU MADE HER SUCK YOUR COCK!"
Suddenly Tim Allen bellowed violently, like a wounded lion. Staggered by his step-daughter's accusation, he found himself lurching across the room and, without warning, slapping Candy fully on the face with his hand.
She reeled back, stunned by the unexpected blow; then slowly brought her hand up to her reddened cheek, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"Oh!" she cried softly; then suddenly she burst into tears and crumpled to the floor in anguish. Tim was as shocked as she by his behavior; and for a moment, he watched numbly, swaying under the influence of the alcohol, as his little niece huddled on the floor, weeping. He couldn't imagine what possessed him to do such a thing. In the next moment, he knelt beside her and put his arms around her.
"Oh baby," he said remorsefully. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me."
"Why did you hit me, Uncle Tim?" she sobbed, letting herself be drawn into his comforting embrace.
"Oh, Candy ... when you said that ... about Mummy ... I just couldn't take it. Listen, sweetheart, I know what you saw, and it seemed awful; but your mother and I were having problems, problems you didn't know about. I hoped that what I did might help. And even your mother told me it had! Before she died, Candy, we were the happiest together that we'd ever been, except when you first came to live with us. Believe me, darling, I'm telling you the truth. Please believe me ... "
Listening to him, Candy found her tears subsiding, and deep in the back of her mind, she realized something she had not thought of before. Her experience with. Kris, as terrible as it had been, had forced her to discover the deepest mysteries of her womanhood. Wasn't it possible that her own step-mother and aunt had needed something like that too? The young girl had been aware that her mother had often seemed cool and distant to Uncle Tim. Maybe she'd had some kind of sexual problem, and maybe that problem had actually been helped by what he had done that night! Maybe she had been wrong all along. Wasn't he just a human being after all, with faults and virtues like everybody else?
Tim Allen drew his niece closer.
"I know I haven't been much of a pal, darling, but believe me, I'm going to try harder from now on." Holding Candy so close, he was surprised to feel a warm surge stirring in his loins. It was a strange mixture of paternal love and erotic arousal. He was somewhat alarmed by his reaction; but his alcohol-weakened brain found it hard to resist.
"I ... I think you better go on to bed now, Candy," he said finally, forcing himself to pull away from her and repress his strange instincts.
"Okay ... but ... will you come to say goodnight, like you did when I was little ... "
"Sure, baby," he said. Their eyes locked warmly, and it seemed to Tim that for the first time, there was a spark of understanding between them.
* * *
A few minutes later, Candy lay naked under a light sheet in the darkened bedroom. The only light came from the hall through the partly opened door. She wasn't the least bit sleepy, for her mind still struggled to comprehend the titanic events of that night. Her brutal encounter with Kris and his friends began to pale now with the new revelation that she had only recently discovered. She found that she no longer hated her uncle, no longer felt bitter about what happened between him and her Mummy. For the first time she really understood him and knew him as lie was: A man who was trying his best, and whom she now knew she could love.
But oddly enough, her feelings for him were not only those of a grateful step-daughter and niece but were strangely mixed with a far deeper affection, one that also seemed to include the kind of feeling she had for Kris. But wasn't it wrong to. feel that way about your own step-father, even if he was handsome and strong? Wasn't she supposed to ignore all that? She found herself calling to him.
"Uncle Tim ... !" she called, as she had done so many times when she was a little girl. She wanted him to come to kiss her goodnight. She listened intently for his footsteps in the hall.
Meanwhile, Tim Allen had downed the last of his drink, and then headed towards Candy's bedroom. His trim physique was warm and unusally vibrant, thanks to the gin; and his mind still focused on his voluptuous young niece. She seemed to understand what he had awkwardly explained to her,.and at last it seemed they had broken through the wall of resentment and suspicion that had cast a dark cloud over their relationship even before Shirley had passed away. He found himself at the door to Candy's bedroom, and he knocked on the half-open door. "Can I come in?" he asked gently.
"Yes ... " she responded softly, drawing the sheet up so that it just covered the soft nakedness of her breasts.
Tim Allen sat down beside his niece, and began to stroke her smoothly girlish forehead. Gazing warmly down at her, he was once more struck by her beauty, her clear skin, her bright brown eyes, shining up at him even in the semi-darkness of the bedroom. Beneath the thin sheet, the surprisingly mature curves of her little body were easily perceptible.
As he continued to softly caress her forehead, Candy's young body, still racing with the turbulent excitement began to grow aroused once more. She was stunned to realize that her flesh responded to the touch of a man unconsciously, even though that man ... was her own uncle! Unconsciously she began to squirm sensuously around beneath the light sheet, growing unaccountably excited ... down there ... in her recently awakened vagina. To her great surprise, she found herself wanting to - to hold him, close to her, as close as she had been with Kris. "Oh, Uncle Tim ... " she whispered, "I ... I really do love you ... "
Deeply touched, and aware that for the first time she had said Uncle Tim with real emotion, he was assured at last of Candy's trust. He leaned down to kiss her smooth forehead, then her cheeks, while his hands tentatively touched and held her soft white shoulders in parental-like compassion. She was so beautiful, so sweet and vulnerable.
Meanwhile she was responding with ever-increasing delight as he held her and kissed her softly. Her nakedly curvaceous young body began to undulate under the thin bedsheet; and the warm fires of desire that had been so recently and so overwhelmingly provoked once again began to kindle in her loins. Gazing rapturously into his face, she realized for the first time how much he loved her! And all this time she had thought he hated her. But his tender kisses were proof, for the bulge in the front of his trousers seemed to be pulsating to life even as she watched! This told her more than any words possibly could just how much he cared. He was her wonderful uncle who had, after all, saved her from Kris and his degenerate friends! And he cared for her! With both mind and body!
These unusual thoughts, perfectly reasonable to the abused teenager, caused her firm young thighs to open and close with hunger; and in her mind, she recalled the way he had looked that night when he was totally naked and her aunt was sucking his enormously erect penis until she made it cum all in her mouth! The very thought filled her brain with unfulfilled burning desire, and her love-hungry pussy throbbed with uncontrollable fire.
"Uncle Tim... oh, Uncle Tim! I love you ... and I need you Uncle Tim to hold me ... Oh, how I need you!"
Holding his niece, kissing her, Tim heard her affectionate words caressing his ears, felt her softly sensuous nakedness twisting beneath him; yet he was so filled with parental concern for her that, at first, he did not understand the depths of her desire for him. All he knew was that his own heart was bursting with love, a love that was deeper than he had ever known toward a woman before, a warmth that was almost akin to that which he had felt toward Shirley in those precious few times they had been able to communicate.
Immediately he released his softly writhing young niece and jerked upright into a rigid sitting position beside her. My God, he thought, my God! How could he dare to have such thoughts! How could he think of his own brother's daughter in any way but a chaste one, especially after what he had rescued her from only hours before? He loved her, yes, loved her with complete parental affection - but not that way! Surely not ...
Yet, even as he berated himself, his eyes were moving over Candy's reclining form. At that moment the equally yearning young girl began to draw the sheet down to reveal her naked body completely to his eyes in the shadowy night light of the bedroom. Stunned, he could not take his gaze away from her sensually squirming teenage body. She was so beautiful ... her breasts rounded, taut, and breathtakingly full ... her tiny hardened nipples ... Then, with a final jerk, Candy pulled the sheet completely off, and her astonished uncle found himself staring at the softly pulsing mound of her sparse, curl-covered young cuntal split! He couldn't believe how incredibly beautiful it looked, so inviting, so tender ... so teenaged pussy-soft.
NO! his mind screamed, No! Stop it! This is forbidden! He was no better than Kris Sherman, yet he was held hypnotized to the lush form of his young niece. Sweat broke out on his forehead; and he could feel an aching of acute physical desire in his testicles, a fierce stirring of inner love for the beautiful teenage girl he had raised, a love that grew stronger by the moment and was very nearly taking hold of his alcohol-weakened senses. Suddenly, he had to admit it; he wanted to fuck his own niece! Struck nearly senseless by this final admission, Tim Allen suddenly rose from the bed, overwhelmed with mixed emotions and confused desires.
"Uncle Tim! No!" she cried. "Don't go away. Love me, Uncle Tim ... I want you ... Don't you want me too?"
His .jaw dropped open in total astonishment! She wanted him to fuck her, just as he wanted her! He could barely comprehend this new revelation, and his mind reeled in agony. He knew he should leave at once, but he just couldn't. His penis was aroused beyond measure and pressed wildly against the taut material of his trousers, aching to do what he struggled to resist! He found himself once more moving toward Candy's bed. He sat down; and at once, she mewled with delight, sat up on the bed, and threw her arms around his neck. She began kissing him, hotly, planting her soft wet lips on his eyes, cheeks, mouth, her tongue darting out to probe between his lips as she ground her youthfully pointed breasts hotly up against his chest. All the while her writhing young hips continued to squirm on the bed, and her lust-fired pussy secreted heated droplets of passion.
At first Tim struggled to pull away; but soon, with a groan of surrender, lie became a willing slave to the incestuous love he felt for his niece. With a low rumbling sound of unrestrained hunger, his mouth opened under hers, and he began kissing her back, lustfully swirling his own tongue around her smaller one, sucking on it joyously as both of them moaned out their newly discovered ecstasy. His hands moved downward over her smooth adolescent shoulders, around to touch her sides and then eased up tenderly, lovingly, seeking the quivering white mounds of her youthfully ripened breasts.
Candy reveled shamelessly in the taste of her uncle's probing tongue and the touch of his gentle hands completely enveloping her naked breasts. She wanted to show him how well she could love him, hoping to put everything she had learned from Kris into use in transmitting to her beautiful father's brother how much she really cared for him! And she knew that what she experienced with him was far more exciting and thrilling than with Kris; for their love went far deeper.
Candy clung desperately to him, kissing and moaning, while he continued to fondle her desire-swollen breasts, tenderly tweaking the hardened nipples into further arousal. Then his trembling hands were moving down, down to caress her softly quivering thighs, to softly stroke her smooth, whitely trembling little belly and then finally to tangle his fingers in the sparsely curling pubic hair that covered her vaginal mound. Candy eagerly raised her maturely rounded hips up and turned her body slightly so that his hand quickly found the tip of her clitoris, and he began to stroke and caress it sensually.
As she began to moan with erotic passion, Uncle Tim found his desire for her mounting hungrily! Rotating his middle finger sensuously against her young clitoral bud, his cock began to pound furiously, and he knew in that moment that he had to have her! Nothing else mattered to him now but knowing total, perfect union with this exquisitely beautiful creature that was his niece. With a groan of uncontrollable desire, he suddenly pulled away from her, stood up and then began tearing at his clothes, pulling them from his body like a wild man. Candy, seeing his feverish response, inwardly thrilled to the fact that soon she would see her beloved Uncle Tim completely naked and that his nude body would be right against hers! In the next instant, it all came true; for he stood before her, completely naked, his thickly swollen cock jutting out like the mast of a ship. Candy stared upwards at his swollen rod of male hardness, a rising delirium of sensuality rippling through every inch of her nakedly twisting body.
"Oh, Uncle Tim!" she whispered, "Get on top of me now ... NOW ... Show me what it really means to be a woman!"
Tim Allen moaned and quickly lay down beside her warmly trembling form, enfolding her in his arms, growing savagely aroused by the touch of her girlish nakedness pressed tightly against his body. Mouths sought one another again, and warm tongues mingled, going wild in each other's mouths. The young teenager twisted and undulated her naked body with increasing abandon, moaning in her father's brother's protective embrace as he caressed her swollen breasts. With overwhelming hunger, Candy found her uncle's desire-stiffened cock with her hand, and drawing the thick foreskin back and forth over the huge bulbous head, her now expert fingers began to tickle the semen-filled ridge on its underside. The erotic touch of her hand on his aching penis filled Tim's mind with even wilder desire. He had never felt so barbarically aroused, even with his own wife.
Candy stroked his cock lovingly, cupping and caressing his heavily swollen balls below, exploring every inch of his huge penis and testicles with her eager hands. Nothing before had given her such a deep sense of pleasure and joy as this -loving her own uncle in every possible way.
"Fuck me now, Uncle Tim!" she cried suddenly, "take me now!"
He needed no further urging; for his alcohol-clouded brain was now mad with raw desire. Quickly, he poised his body over Candy's enchantingly offered young form, watching with passion as she drew her slim legs back and pulled her knees up to her firmly throbbing young breasts, spreading wide her thighs to expose the rich splendor of her wetly pulsating vaginal crevice. In that moment, he almost thanked Kris Sherman for awakening his niece to sex; because now he was about to enjoy the full pleasure of her eagerly offered adoration.
His brain exploding with happiness, he moved slightly forward so that the head of his cock rested against her eagerly pulsating cuntal crevice. She began to moan hungrily, imploring him to hurry as he moved forward gently, guiding his heavily pulsing cock up into the small pink mouth of her pussy. The soft inner flesh of her thighs jerked spasmodically as he moved up between them. Already, he knew at once, her tender young vagina was wet and slippery with passion; and with a sudden eager lunge, his lust-inflated cock slipped all the way up inside the ecstatic niece's tightly clasping little cunt.
"UUUUUUNNNNNNGGGHHH!" she wailed in utter pleasure, "UNCLE TIM! YOU FEEL SOOOOO GOOOOOD UP INSIDE MY PUSSY!!!"
Her lust provoking words sent whirlpools of heat surging through her uncle's flesh, and he began to move, slowly fucking his thickly hardened cock shaft in and out of her eagerly clasping young vagina, driving his stiffened penis far up into her writhing belly, then retreating almost completely, driving in again, slowly and rhythmically, while the pressure in his semen-bloated testicles raged out of control. The head of his enormous cock pressed against the softly cushioned tip of her cervix; while the warm wet walls of her cunt wrapped tightly, lovingly around his thick male girth. Candy writhed happily beneath her uncle, consumed with a raging passion that was vastly better than anything she had experienced with the amoral writer of romantic songs. Her very own Uncle Tim was filling her warmly receiving pussy with all his love now, and his thickly swollen penis made her hot little vagina quiver with blissfully heated passion.
Allen began to fuck up into his niece's hungrily accepting little belly now with increased fervor, driving his heavy cock far up into the excitedly pulsing walls of her excitedly widening cuntal channel. His sperm-bloated balls slapped heavily down against the smooth wet crevice of her buttocks with lewd wet sluicing noises as he withdrew his rampantly heated cock and then plunged forward again and again, his ravishingly beautiful niece heaving and thrashing eagerly beneath him. The throbbingly aroused step-parent felt charged with a kind of potency he had never known before, particularly as his own beloved Candy was embracing their forbidden love-making with total abandon, her thighs clamping tightly around his heavily thrusting hips as he fucked deeply up into the tight wet heat of her vaginal depths.
Suddenly, Candy felt the tingling, rippling sensation in her loins that told her only one thing - she was going to cum soon.
"Oh, Uncle Tim!" she cried happily, deliriously, "I'm going to cum ... I'M GOING TO CUM WITH YOU, UNCLE TIM!"
Tim Allen increased his pace, grinding lewdly into her drenching wet pussy while Candy's legs twitched where they clutched at his thighs. He watched her smoothly rounded breasts heave and quiver as a result of his torrid thrustings, and he saw her toss her head wildly from side to side her long hair glistening as she thrashed..
"I'm cumming!" she cried suddenly, "CUUUUUMMMMIIINNNNG! Oh, Uncle Tim! Fuck me harder! Harder, Uncle Tim! Harrrrddderrr!"
Candy's curvaceous young body was spasming wildly underneath him now, as she surrendered with all her will to the wild sea of orgasm that took possession of her body. The mouth of her adolescent young pussy was sucking voraciously at his wildly thrusting penis, making him go nearly mad with pleasure. Then, in the next moment, he knew he was cumming as well.
"OH, CANDY!" he gasped, as his shuddering balls suddenly released a raging load of scalding semen in rapid little bursts, "OH, SWEETHEART ... AH ... AH ... AAAAAAHHHHHH!"
A riverload of fiery hot sperm shot out from the tiny opening at the tip of his violently jerking cock and exploded deep up into his niece's greedily clutching cunt, making her moan with husky cries of utter rapture as his semen flooded deep into her belly in lewd incestuous union. Gush after gush of thickly boiling cum erupted from the desire-possessed older man, and ran like an untamed river deep up into his niece's wetly receptive pussy. Finally, after an eternity of incredible bliss, their forbidden passion ebbed, uncle and niece lay next to each other on the narrow bed, breathing softly in the afterglow of their tempestuous union.
"Oh, Uncle Tim! Thank you, thank you!" she said quietly as she snuggled next to him on the bed. "Thank you for making real love to me!"
"Oh, baby, I should be thanking you! That was so wonderful ... "
"For me too ... "
For a moment, Tim Allen's brow wrinkled with concern. Although it had been the most overpoweringly satisfying experience of his life, he was now troubled as to the consequences of the unexpected union.
"What's wrong, Uncle Tim?" his niece asked, sensing his inward troubles.
"Oh, it's nothing, sweetheart," he said, somewhat evasively, "it's just ... well, I'm just wondering what to do now ... I'm a little concerned about the future."
"There's no need to be," she replied quickly, "especially, you shouldn't worry about what's going to happen next. I already know."
"You do?" he exclaimed in surprise. "What?"
Smiling mischievously, his fifteen year old niece reached down with her hand to fondle his softened cock. Almost immediately, under her tender caresses, it began to harden again into desire-swollen stiffness. Tim Allen chuckled happily, then leaned back to allow his little niece to continue her erotic ministrations. There was no question at all what was going to happen next, no question at all.
Chapter 8
A year later, on a chilly Saturday morning in early November, Tim Allen and his niece Candy stood in front of a small old-fashioned shop in Mendicino, a nineteenth century fishing village turned artistic community on the wind swept coast of Northern California. A small sign in old-fashioned lettering stood above the entrance: Allen's Phonograph Records, Grand Opening. Uncle and niece stood proudly in front of the charmingly decorated store-front, their coat collars turned up against the chilling ocean breeze.
"I never thought it could happen," Tim remarked. "Our own store."
"Anything can happen, Uncle Tim," his pretty little companion replied, squeezing his hand affectionately, "if you care enough."
Tim smiled at her and shook his head in amazement at the turn of events in the last year. Shortly after he and his adolescent niece had discovered the depths of their mutual love, Allen had decided that the time was ripe to make a life-long dream come true: his own music emporium, specializing in old recordings; a place where he could be independent. He had long been dissatisfied working as a disc jockey, where he was forced to play whatever recently released junk was forced on him. Previously it had been impossible; for as long as his wife Shirley was alive, life had been so complicated that he had no time to set his dreams in motion. It was with Candy's youthful enthusiasm and coaxing that things finally began to fall into place; and taking the profit from the sale of his ticky-tacky house and some carefully accumulated savings, he bought the old-fashioned shop and had it restored to its full charm, thanks largely to Candy's creative touch.
"I guess now all we do is open up and wait for the customers," Candy remarked, smiling up at her handsome uncle.
"That's right," Tim said. They walked together into the shop. It had been agreed that she would work at the shop after school and on weekends.
"I'm going back into the stock room," Tim said. "I want to complete the inventory of the Bing Crosby stuff." He paused for a moment before going, his eyes falling on the attractive figure of his teenage partner and mistress who was seated behind the small counter. Her hair was pulled up into a fashionable twist, making her pretty features seem surprisingly more mature than her sixteen years.
"I think we've got our first customer," Candy exclaimed excitedly, nodding to the figure of a middle-aged woman who was glancing at the records in the window, obviously ready to come into the shop.
"Think you can handle it by yourself, sweetheart?" her uncle asked.
"Sure. And if I need any help, I'll call you."
"Great. Good luck."
Candy watched her handsome uncle go into the storeroom, then turned her attention to the prospective customer.
"What a nice place," the woman said approvingly. "Very carefully done. It's nice that you took the trouble to restore the building."
"Thank you," Candy replied brightly. "We love it here. Is there something special you're looking for?" she inquired.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, there is. Do you have the new album by Kris Sherman ... the one who did With a Single Rose?
For a moment Candy felt her heart skip a beat. The very mention of his name opened a floodtide of memories in the young girl's brain; and in a rapid montage, all the volcanic events she had tried to forget reeled through her mind.
In the next minute, however, she regained her composure.
"Kris ... Sherman," she repeated. "Is ... is there a new one out now?"
"Yes, of course," the spectacled woman replied. "I'm surprised you don't know about it. Why, it's all the rage and I understand it's even better than his first album. I believe it's called Babydoll Love.
Babydoll Love? Candy thought to herself. I wonder what this one is about ... I wonder ...
"I'm sorry," the sixteen year old said, "we don't stock anything recorded after 1950. Perhaps you can find it in Ft. Bragg."
The woman looked displeased. "Well, I must say I'm disappointed. I would think your stock would be more complete."
"Madame," a male voice suddenly said, "Our stock is quite complete." Turning, Candy saw her uncle entering from the back room, carrying a stack of vintage records. "However, we are geared to popular classics here, not current trash." Candy had to stifle a giggle when she saw the woman's reaction to his remark. "Perhaps you'd be interested in AI Jolson's Anniversary Waltz or something by Russ Colombo or the Ink Spots. But I'm afraid we don't stock anything by Mr .... eh ... what did you say the name was?"
"Kris Sherman. And I'm afraid I'm only interested in his records."
"Madame, I'm truly sorry for that."
"Indeed!" And the woman turned coldly on her heels and left the shop.
"Gee, Uncle Tim," Candy said, laughing, "I guess we lost our first customer."
"But she won't be the last," Tim replied, placing a stack of records on a table and joining his niece behind the counter. "We'll do all right here, but it may take some time."
Candy laughed again, thrilled by her uncle's response, and suddenly felt extremely optimistic about things. She and her Uncle Tim had a new life, a new business, independence, and a warm, fulfilling love.
"Oh, Uncle Tim, you know I could just kiss you!"
A sly smile crossed his face, and he moved closer to his young niece, putting a strong, protective arm around her shoulder.
"Then why don't you?" he said, gazing fondly into her eyes ...
