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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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The Elixir of Life
by Peter_Pan (uds3@hotmail.com)
***
Some men suffer psychological and verbal abuse at the
hands of their women. Possessive and dictatorial wives,
scheming and manipulative daughters, to name but two
sources of domestic discontent. Once in a while the
opportunity presents itself to repay these long-
tolerated mischieves. In Doctor Wilson's case that
opportunity came sooner rather than later. (M/f-teen,
ped, inc, 1st, mast, mc)
***
Being a genetic scientist wasn't without its perks.
Four full-time assistants, plush offices and let's not
forget the new Lexus drop-top. They had head-hunted him
from the Brewer Pharmaceutical Corporation the previous
Fall, with the lure of new state-of-the-art laboratory
equipment and the type of bottomless funding, only
Government Agencies seem to have access to.
"Dr James Wilson - Senior Geneticist" proclaimed the
somewhat ostentatious plaque residing at eye level on
the door to his office. Using his swipe card, Dr Wilson
gained access to his inner sanctum closing the door
behind him as he had done two hundred and twenty three
times already this year.
Drawing up the leather high-back, he glanced across at
the framed photograph on the right of the expansive
desk. Denise Wilson and daughter Melody posed there
happily on the ski-lift at Aspen. Not a care in the
world registered in their expressions - though why
would they have any, when James was trucking-in more
than two-hundred thou every year.
He smiled at the irony of so seemingly happy a picture.
Not six months since his wife kicked him out of the
matrimonial bedroom and Melody's only conversation with
her father was when she needed him to pay for repairs
to the Viper or whatever bills had accrued at the
stables. Just seventeen and she had her mother's
bitchiness down pat, with every indication of
surpassing her in that regard.
Little wonder he had immersed himself in his research.
Molecular structures, DNA helixes and amino acids
neither spent his money or undermined his self-esteem.
Unlike his wife, they allowed him to do what he liked
with them!
He gazed at the small vial on the left of his desk.
Containing some one-fifty cc. of colorless liquid, it
was part of a flask containing the bulk of the serum he
and his staff had prepared the previous day and which
now was locked securely away in the adjoining
laboratory cool-room.
Doctor Wilson had spent the last six months working on
genetic ovarian disorders and associated infertility
problems, commissioned on behalf of the State Medical
Board. His work in principle was to study the effects
of chromosomal abnormalities and to chemically engineer
a re-agent that might artificially increase FSH
(follicle-stimulating hormone) levels. Without invoking
an excess of medical terminology here, let it simply be
stated that Doctor Wilson discovered that the
controlled introduction of clomiphene citrate into a
previously unfertile ovum not only significantly raised
localised FSH levels but had led to a physiological
change in the cellular structure itself that appeared
to render the oocyte (egg) now fully fertile. Pretty
much the equivalent of a moon-landing in layman's
terms!
It was certainly reason enough to stop-by Oscar's bar
on the way home. If he didn't deserve a martini for his
efforts- who did?
"Better take the vial, just to be on the safe side," he
reasoned, and thus scooping it up, placed it carefully
inside the zip-pouch in his document case.
Selecting a private booth at the far end of Oscar's, he
was barely into his second dry martini, when a young
girl sitting alone in the booth next to him, and who he
assumed would need valid id to even buy cigarettes at
the local tobacco stand, turned around and asked if he
had a light. Even in the ten seconds or so it took him
to apologise, telling her he didn't smoke, he noticed
the somewhat attractive girl's dilated pupils,
unhealthy pallor and generally agitated state. Either
'Crack' or 'Speed' he figured.
At that moment his cell rang. It was Denise. Depressing
the call button, all he could make out was garbled
static. Having by necessity to make it to the sidewalk
to engender a better degree of reception, it was hardly
worth the effort. Other than demanding to know where he
was and when he'd be home, she had nothing to say.
Flipping the lid of the cell, he smiled wryly to
himself. A passing shower was creating artistic
patterns against the far street light as the scarcely
dampening rain appeared to fall in slow motion.
Not ten feet from the booth and his peristaltic rate
hit overdrive. No longer was his document case resident
on the seat where he had left it momentarily. Equally
unattended was the adjoining booth he noted. Looking
around wildly - there was no trace of either the case
or Miss quick-fix. Other patrons, fully engaged in
conversation, their alcoholic support, or blissful
daydreams... had seen nothing. The barman "thought" he
might have seen the girl leaving from the rear entrance
carrying 'something' but he couldn't be sure.
Exiting the fire-door, he found himself in a dingy
alleyway littered with trash-cans and piles of rubbish.
Half-expecting to come across Steven Seagal kicking the
bejesus out of some street gang, he almost suffered
cardiac arrest when a monstrous stray cat hissed at him
from atop a dumpster.
The drizzle had pretty much subsided although the
walkway was still slippery and the general atmosphere
of his surroundings something less than enervating. Up
ahead just inside a dank and unlit doorway he caught
sight of some movement.
Drawing level with the niche, all he could see was a
pair of slim calves, patent black leather girl's shoes
and the barest hint of what looked like a cerise
colored skirt. It was enough. He had seen them before.
Even as he inclined his head towards the doorway he
heard a muffled "Ohh, unreal!!"
Someone a couple of floors up switched on their bedroom
light. It was enough to penetrate the girl's place of
concealment. His document case lay there, forced open
on the top step, while the girl lay slumped almost
provocatively against the weather-beaten door that
looked as if it hadn't been opened since Mrs O'Leary's
cow had showed its distaste for lanterns. Beside her
lay one of his syringes - and an empty small glass
vial.
"Jesus girl...what have you done?" he muttered, leaning
over her. From what he could see, she didn't look to be
suffering any physically noticeable ill-effects at this
stage.
"Needed a high," she giggled, "What IS that stuff
anyway?"
"Nothing that's gonna get you high young lady," he
replied, regathering his possessions swiftly.
"Oh I don't know," she giggled even louder, "Would you
like to kiss me?"
The light was just sufficient to let him re-acquaint
his eyes with what he had already seen in the bar. Nice
fitting top which advertised more than it concealed.
Slim hips and sculptured legs exiting that tight little
skirt that are strictly the domain of teenage girls. If
anything her face was prettier than on last inspection
and those lightly glossed lips definitely an
improvement on Denise's early seventies vintage. What
cretin wouldn't want to take up such an offer?
He inclined his head to kiss her but was totally
unprepared for the ensuing physical assault.
One arm around his neck and the other grasping at his
jacket, she pulled him to her with such intent that he
fell prostrate across her. Not that this was any great
hardship, the sensation of her firm young breasts up
against his chest could even have been described as
vaguely pleasurable.
Her mouth sought his own like a tigress.
"Fuck me... please fuck me," she more or less begged,
spreading her legs beneath him to the extent that
particular skirt allowed. He felt her trying to tug the
hem up with one hand even as she wailed her desire.
Breaking off the kiss, he managed to evade her clutches
and stood up panting...half with exertion and half with
enforced arousal himself.
"Best you go home miss," he stammered, not wanting to
play the lead in a protracted rape case. "This is
hardly the neighborhood for a young girl to be hanging
out in at this time of night.
"Oh please... you HAVE to fuck me," she was half
sobbing, her skirt now crumpled indecently up around
her hips. He was unable to wrench his eyes from her
right hand, up now between her legs and rubbing her
pussy hard through those rather skimpy light blue
briefs. Spreading her legs wider than ever. She
suddenly held her panties to one side.
"Do you think I'm sexy?" she pleaded, exposing her
teenage cleft to his gaze, surrounded as it was by
trimmed, yet obviously moist, light brown pubic hair.
She brought the other hand up between her legs now
pushing an index finger deep inside her vagina as he
stared dry-mouthed at the unfolding scene.
This had to be a side-effect of the serum he pondered -
uncontrolled sexual arousal. Perhaps some brief field-
research was indicated here.
"You have a name sweetheart?" he asked her
"Julie," she replied, her hips beginning to wriggle
suggestively on the step as she continued to finger
herself deeply. "Oh please mister, fuck me, I need it
badly, you have to do it to me."
So obscenely spread was the girl, that he could see her
vagina was lubricated in the extreme, juices running
down her fingers in rivulets. "On heat" did not
adequately cover the situation he saw before him.
"Show me your breasts Julie and I'll think about it?"
he whispered softly.
In less time than it would take to order a Big Mac with
fries, the girl pulled her top up and wriggled out of
it. It wasn't a warm night either he noted. Seizing her
bra straps she then pulled them down her shoulders
exposing both breasts to his not disinterested gaze.
Staring at those most beautiful mounds, much the same
size as his own daughter's he chastised himself for
imagining, her pretty nipples stood out, the proudest
of sentinels on night duty.
"Come on, I've shown you my tits...now fuck me would
you? I just can't wait much longer." As she spoke, she
re-commenced fingering herself wildly.
"One last request Julie," he could barely bring himself
to utter the words, "take all your clothes off and get
down on all fours for me."
Not even bothering to check whether anyone was coming,
the girl stood up, unzipped her skirt and let it fall
to the ground. Slipping both hands inside the waistband
of her panties she wriggled out of them, kicking off
her shoes in the process. Completely naked now, she
gingerly descended the four stone steps and kneeling in
the laneway, seemingly oblivious to the puddles of
water, wriggled her teenage butt at him as she got on
all fours in as compromising a position as ever a girl
can be.
Assuring himself there was no likelihood of imminent
discovery, he got down behind her, only then realising
that beneath his own trousers was a caged serpent of
hitherto unexperienced solidarity.
Foreplay was not on the agenda. She wanted to be fucked
and that's precisely what he did to her.
Had "Sixty Minutes" been in the vicinity, they would
have picked up the exclusive of the decade...perhaps
the century! That no-one came along was just good
fortune. Reaching a shared orgasm in something less
than ninety seconds he wasn't even surprised when
whimpering with lust almost, she got down on her
forearms and presented her curvy rear-end as the
designated target for the second-wave assault.
Despite never having had any inclination for the
'alternative channel' he acquitted himself admirably in
filling her back-up portal while she gasped and
wriggled in obvious pleasure, mud and dirt from the
road adorning her legs and arms by this stage.
To his eternal disbelief, the girl then turned around,
splaying herself lewdly on her back mid lane-way,
pleading with him to fuck her again. So wide were her
legs, an Indian elephant would have been in there with
a chance.
Unable at this juncture to be physically capable of
continuing the treatment, however pleasant the
prospect, he ignored her pitiful demands and moved
across to the sidewalk with the intention of retrieving
the girl's clothes.
Right that moment a battered old Riviera cruised past
the end of the alleyway.
"What the fuck?" emanated from the driver's passenger
side as backing-up hastily, four large youths debarked
from the beat-up vehicle. Thinking naturally enough
that street justice was about to catch up with him, he
grabbed his document case and hightailed it westwards
back up the alleyway.
Just before turning the corner, he glanced back over
his shoulder to judge how long he had to live and was
beyond amazed to discern no followers. He leaned up
against the wall, capturing his breath. All four of the
car's occupants he could see were gathered around the
spreadeagled girl, one kneeling now between her legs,
the others doing something to her he just couldn't make
out.
"What uncommonly good luck" he muttered to himself -
"for her too!"
**
Finding it hard to concentrate on much other than young
Julie getting down and dirty in that alleyway, the
Lexus ran at least two red lights on the way back to
Madison Heights.
"Took your sweet time," his wife greeted him as he
waked into the kitchen. "And what the Hell happened to
your suit? Its filthy!"
"Long story Denise - nothing you'd want to hear about,
trust me!" Putting the document case down on the bench-
top near the servery, he figured a shower was what he
needed more than anything right then.
For once, the put-downs, conversational inanities and
general disinterest shown him by his wife and daughter
fazed him but little. The truth is, he had in mind an
embryonic plan - one that might loosely be construed as
long-overdue payback!
"You seem distracted tonight James," his wife commented
shortly before taking her leave of the dining room. He
wondered if she wasn't somewhat irked at having failed
to provoke him for the duration of supper.
"Just got a lot on my mind at the moment Denise."
He looked up as he spoke, but seeing little other than
resigned indifference in her expression, finished off
the remnants of the claret instead.
The next day saw him wing-in to the laboratory with a
new found zest for life. Even his staff noticed his
changed demeanor - almost chatty as opposed to his
normal controlled, if not clinical bedside manner.
"What's with HIM?" said one young assistant to her co-
worker. "Look's like he found a cure for hangovers."
Fact is Dr Wilson was, for the first time in many
years, actually looking forward to going home. Ensuring
he was the last to leave, he paid one final visit to
the cool room.
"Veal Marsala?" he sniffed approvingly. "That
definitely calls for a Bollinger Denise. What say I go
crack a '74? I think we have a complete case of them in
the cellar."
His wife wouldn't have known a 1974 Bollinger from the
2006 house-white at the local Pizza Hut. So long as it
sparkled, made her giggle and was served in an up-
market piece of crystal, her needs were fulfilled.
Having retrieved his bottle of choice, he popped the
cork at the sink and while Denise busied herself with
serving dinner, he retracted from his inside pocket a
small glass vial, the contents of which he up-ended
quickly into the Bollinger, having first poured his own
glass. No sooner had he done this, than his daughter
made an appearance from upstairs.
"Oh, hello dad," said Melody, with less enthusiasm than
a prisoner on death row about to tackle his last meal.
"You're eating with us again tonight?"
"Yeah honey," he replied. "We haven't really talked
much as a family for a while, I thought we might do
something about that?"
"Right," she mumbled, staring at her mother, "Sounds
like fun." He caught her momentarily rolling her eyes.
Filling his wife's glass, he inclined the neck of the
bottle towards his daughter, "You're not far off
eighteen sweetheart, would you like a little
champagne?"
She was never going to say no, as he well knew!
For several minutes no one spoke, just a few obligatory
smiles all round as they all ate. Fully alert for the
slightest deviation from the norm he regarded both
mother and daughter with in-obvious watchfulness.
When nothing appeared to be happening he was not only
disappointed but baffled. Was it possible that taking
the drug orally negated its effect and that to
duplicate Julie's reaction, required intravenous
delivery? Perhaps the effects he had witnessed in the
alleyway last night had been due to other than the
serum?
"I don't believe this?" his daughter appeared to
mumble, coloring up visibly as she laid down her fork
suddenly.
"Don't believe what sweetheart?" he enquired, glancing
across at her nonchalantly.
"Er, nothing dad," she replied. "Its OK, I'm just
feeling really odd that's all."
He was about to ask 'in what way?' when his wife put
her glass of wine down and none too steadily at that.
In not far short of a giggle, she looked across at
James and shocked both herself and her daughter by
announcing to the world, "Gotta be honest Melody, your
dad's a pretty cool guy doncha think?"
In other circumstances Doctor Wilson might have punched
the air, as it was, he simply offered up a silent
prayer of gratitude.
"Just a bit more champagne daddy?" Melody pleaded,
looking at her father with no expression he had ever
seen before. He had no hesitation in filling her glass
to the brim.
"You trying to get our daughter drunk?" his wife half-
slurred, quaffing the remnants of her own glass. "Not
that I mind," she added, giggling uncontrollably now.
"Come over here and give me a hug James."
Almost as keen to research this medical phenomenon as
he was determined to benefit from it, Doctor Wilson
remained in his chair sipping his own wine, as he
watched the women's behavioral disintegration.
"I'd like a kiss too please daddy," his daughter
demanded confidently. She hadn't, he recalled, referred
to him as "daddy" since she was twelve...and now twice
in three minutes.
Making no move towards either, he sat there passively.
"Beautiful meal Denise," he announced, making as if to
leave the table. "I have to go to the study now and
complete a paper I am delivering at the Research
Council's brunch tomorrow." Then turning to his
daughter, "And you sweetheart, had better go finish
your school-work, don't you have your final exams in
just a few weeks?"
"No dad," she yelped, "Don't go yet... please!"
This was the most fun he could remember having since
that night he first brought Denise up to speed as to
the primary function of a Pontiac's back seat, outside
her parent's house at two in the morning on their
second date.
If he hadn't seen it, he wouldn't have believed it, but
Melody was subconsciously undoing the top buttons of
her school blouse, even as she spoke.
Whether his wife was aware of this eventuality or not
he couldn't say, she evidently had her own plan of
action, judging by her decision to walk around the
table and seat herself not three feet from his dinner
plate, scattering condiments and table napkins alike.
"C'mon James, I must have something that interests you
surely?" So saying she began tugging the hem of her
skirt upwards, wriggling about on the tablecloth as she
did so."
"Er, in front of our daughter Denise?" he enquired.
His wife's spontaneous reply of "You can fuck Melody
afterwards James, as much as you want," was not exactly
what he was expecting, any more than his daughter's
ensuing brief monologue.
"Fuck me first daddy... I know you've always wanted
to!"
Well she was right on that score he had to admit, but
this was a situation to be handled somewhat
diplomatically he felt.
"Tell you what girls," he announced, "Show me your
nipples first and we'll see what happens then, OK?"
What followed was surely the realization of so many
men's ultimate fantasies from time immemorial. A still
youngish wife (Denise was only thirty eight) and
teenage daughter hastily divesting themselves of their
bras, fully willing to parade themselves topless for
the unrestricted viewing pleasures to be had.
Denise's breasts were still firm and inviting in the
extreme, while his daughter's pink-tipped mounds,
shunted his desire into overdrive. What he was
experiencing between his legs suddenly, wasn't so much
an erection as procreational gridlock.
His wife, who having worked her skirt up around her
hips now, was wriggling about on the table, seemingly
uncaring that her panties were fully exposed to her
young daughter as well as her husband.
"Ohhh come on James, fuck me." She began rubbing
herself across the face of her knickers - a woman
ultimately on heat to be sure. If ever he had an
opportunity to test the flexibility of the serum's mind
control, this was it.
"Go and take Melody's panties off then Denise and I'll
fuck you." He grinned. "Just make sure you finger her
for me too, alright?"
Completely without the least inhibition, she eased
herself off the table, walked over to Melody and
dragging the girl's chair out a few feet, seemingly
unconcerned by the sight of the teenager's bare breasts
jiggling about in clear view of her father, knelt down
between her legs. He noted also Melody's total lack of
resistance as her mother reached up beneath her school-
dress, took a hold of the waistband of her panties and
proceeded to drag the skimpy little briefs past her
knees and down her legs.
"Hold your dress up Melody," she instructed her
daughter, "Let your dad see your pussy?"
With that she pushed her index finger very carefully up
into her daughter's vagina and despite the girl's gasp
of probable shock, began fingering her in and out which
induced noticeable movement in the young girl's hips.
Poor old Doctor Wilson had yet to aclimatize himself to
the sight of his teen daughter's fully exposed pussy,
framed as it was by light brown curls that just about
seared his retinas with lustful appreciation.
"Does that feel nice?" she asked Melody, who nodded to
her mother, spreading her legs noticeably to allow for
even better access. "Play with your tits honey, it will
make you feel even hornier," Denise added.
Wanting desperately to extricate and soothe his swollen
erection, he could but stare as his wife's open
ministrations, brought his daughter to the edge of
orgasmic release. Wriggling about in the chair, her
eyes closed, she was cupping and rubbing her own
breasts now, completely lost in the pleasures at hand.
"Oh God mom," she announced suddenly as a violent
orgasm took control of her small frame. Bucking wildly,
she clutched at her own pussy even as her mother's
fingers pushed her across the border.
Doctor Wilson's mouth was dry, it was also gaping open!
"We had an agreement I believe?" Denise had gotten to
her feet and was now standing alongside his chair.
"Well yes, of course darling," he replied. Any
preferences?" he glanced towards the far stairs.
"Just fuck me James... right here and now." So saying
she lay back on the table right in front of him. She
had her skirt back up around her hips in seconds.
"What? in front of Melody?" he gasped, the thought of
actually fucking his wife while his daughter watched,
was nothing he figured, short of pure animalistic
indulgence.
Primed and ready to rumble, he stood up. Taking a hold
of his wife's still slim legs - after all, two hundred
thou a year buys a lot of quality time by way of
personal trainers - he tugged her hips to the edge of
the table before overseeing the swift removal of her
panties. The expression on Melody's face was priceless
but hardly one of disapproval he noted. She hadn't
bothered to retrieve her undergarments either, which
bode rather well for the immediate future he was
thinking.
Wriggling and desperate, Denise had her legs well
spread for him. Just a matter of freeing up the
enforcer and he was back ploughing his near-forgotten
field of dreams. God, how long had it been?
Although marginally less unhinged than had been Julie's
little turn in the alleyway and this presumably, as she
had ingested less concentrated a dose of the serum, his
wife nevertheless was uninhibited to the point of
begging aloud for him to fuck her harder, a task he was
fully up to.
"That is so hot daddy," Melody enunciated, thrusting a
hand between her own legs, as she watched her father's
assured progress. Debasing as the scenario might have
been, the sight of an eight-inch penile ramrod sunk
repeatedly to the hilt in her mom's vagina did have its
arousing aspects for the young girl.
"Oh God, fuck me harder James," Denise cried out, her
arms scattering tableware and cutlery alike in her
quest for pleasured release. Squeezing her breasts with
callous indifference now, all he achieved was to raise
further her erotic demands.
Aware of his daughter's revealing masturbatory
undertaking, was in no small way hyping his cause. The
sight of her fingering herself to nirvana as he
continued deep-fucking his near-naked wife's swollen
vagina, was probably the reason he more or less
exploded inside her right then - a release of near
super-nova status.
"Keep fucking me...don't stop," she cried out, even as
her own body more or less imploded with the greatest
orgasm she had yet experienced...and not a few of her
extra-marital 'relationships' had notched up a few
doozies let us be honest.
"Ohhh mom," was all Melody had to contribute, then she
too was transported down that orgasmic yellow brick
road as every nerve ending from clitoris to nipple was
sent into a tailspin of notable proportions.
"I want to see you fuck Melody now James... please!"
She was gradually easing herself upright, semen
trickling forth from her abused and quite red vagina.
She brought a hand up between her legs and felt the
extent of the flow. It appeared to satisfy her.
Turning to his daughter, he indicated her underclothing
near the chair which she promptly retrieved and
wriggled back into. That, he had to admit, was
certainly no visual hardship either. With his erection
barely at half-mast, he pulled her to him and kissed
her hard on the lips. To say this fulfilled a long-time
fantasy would be an understatement. It was the
experience of a lifetime - which is why the second kiss
was even more intense.
From Melody's viewpoint, it was the hottest thing she
had ever contemplated. Kissing her father passionately
and any way you look at it - sexually, was an
eventuality most seventeen year-olds can only dream
about - well for those who might ponder such fun
eccentricities.
Reaching around behind her, Dr Wilson located the
zipper and a couple of seconds later, the school-dress
was at her feet, leaving his daughter standing there in
just her bra and panties. Could life get better?
Propelling her towards the far staircase, he was aware
that his wife had eased herself off the table and was
taking up the rear as they ascended the stairs. At the
landing he took a hold of Melody's arm, "No not our
room honey, dad wants to fuck his little girl in her
own bedroom."
"Oh OK daddy," she giggled. If Denise had any thoughts
on the matter, she was keeping them to herself.
Once inside the rather tastefully decorated room he
gave his daughter a playful smack on her bottom that
made her yelp.
"Dad!" she cried out. "That's naughty,"
"Well, that's what I'm here for?" he grinned at her.
"Now get on the bed please."
With no obvious trepidation as to her immediate fate,
the girl climbed on her bed and lay down on her back.
'Tempting' doesn't adequately cover it here. She was
every father's most rampant and socially repressed
fantasy.
"No, not on your back sweetheart," he told her, "On all
fours please."
Compliantly, she got on her knees and facing the
headboard, presented her father with, if not the
curviest little rear-end in Madison Heights, certainly
the most available.
"Spank her James," his wife instructed, sitting herself
down on the edge of the bed, idly smoothing her hands
across her daughter's rear cheeks, who then gasped -
either with embarrassment, shock or pleasure...
possibly all the above!
Smiling inwardly, he told the girls to wait there
momentarily while he retrieved their three glasses from
downstairs. Whilst there of course, he refreshed their
drinks from the now near-empty bottle. He wouldn't he
knew, be needing a second.
"I like the champagne dad," Melody giggled, taking up
once more her provocative pose mid coverlet.
"And I like your sexy little bottom sweetheart," he
said giving her a reasonably hard smack across her
panties." She gasped but made no attempt to remove
herself from the playing field.
Three smacks later and he was beginning to understand
what was so sexy about spanking a teenage girl. The
submissive aspect of the victim, the sexy contact with
so naughty an area - having his wife endorsing his
actions as she smiled lasciviously at seeing her
daughter's punishment... yeah he could definitely get
to like this!
"Just one more sweetheart," he muttered, "and this is
for being such a little bitch to me all these years."
So hard did he spank her, both legs buckled.
"That really hurt dad," she whimpered, reaching around
and patting her rear cheeks. Her panties had slipped
progressively with each spank and that delightfully
sexy cleft was now partially visible, as was a deal of
bright red skin.
"Take your panties off Melody," he ordered her.
Obediently, the young girl reached behind her and
tugged her sexy little red briefs down until her bottom
was completely exposed. Then wriggling her hips until
the material was even lower, she extricated one leg and
then the other. It was just a matter of when he might
actually suffer that inevitable coronary. How could any
man, let alone father, look upon so arousing a scene
without incurring total physical relapse?
"I soo need you to fuck me daddy," she cried out, in
sheer wanton need. Not at all what might be expected
from such a hitherto good little Catholic girl, bitch
or not.
Almost transfixed by his daughter's rearward aspect, he
couldn't decide which was the more arousing. Her
completely exposed and obviously highly lubricated
vaginal opening, or the sexy-as-all-hell pubic hair
peeking out from between her legs. It had to be line-
ball whichever way you went. The fact that no other
male on the planet had ever been privy to Melody's
procreative secrets just made it all the hotter.
"You like me doing this sweetheart?" he whispered,
cupping her pussy from underneath and allowing his
fingers to then trace their way the full length of her
seventeen-year old slit. He caught his wife's
expression of lustful approval even as his fingers
undertook the return trip.
Melody was unable to prevent a cry of utter pleasure
escaping those rather exquisitely shaped lips, "Oh God
dad, do that again please...use two fingers this time!"
"Play with her tits too James," Denise broke in. "Make
her beg for it."
So saying, she splayed her own legs to levels of
extraordinary indecency, thus proceeding to tease her
clitoris, replete in the knowledge that this was having
the desired effect on both husband and daughter.
Melody however was not short of sexual distractions
herself. Shivering uncontrollably from her father's
dexterous attentions to her pussy, not to mention
having her breasts fondled and her nipples squeezed,
the sight of her mother's lewd behavior in such close
proximity, was adding to her complete disorientation.
Probably unaware that she now had her bottom arched
upwards like the most practised whore in Chinatown, she
was literally wriggling in aggregated need. As a degree
of primal instinct kicked in, she got down on her
forearms and glancing back towards her father openly
pleaded,
"Fuck me daddy, my pussy is soo hot!"
"Yeah James," Denise almost hissed, "For God's sake
fuck the little slut. Take her virginity - You always
wanted to!"
Inarguably the right words at the right time. Kneeling
on the bed behind his naked daughter, her scalding red
bottom still bearing multiple handprints he noted with
some satisfaction, he aligned his erection with those
soft moist lips and engaged 'drive.'
Aroused and undoubtedly committed as she was, a hymen
is still a hymen. At the instant he found his progress
barred by that natural barrier, her mouth was gaping
open in shocked discomfort. He hadn't come this far
though with any intentions of an early retreat - there
was payback to make, a cherry for the taking and a hot
little pussy to fuck - not necessarily in that order.
Holding her bottom tightly, his interest well and truly
catalysed by that arched back, slim waist and curvy
hips, he thrust in harder. Something gave way, even as
she cried out in genuine pain. Able now to penetrate
her to the max he watched in almost awed reverence as
his erection disappeared up to the hilt in her pussy.
He could see a trickle of blood on her inner thigh but
all this achieved was a desire to fuck her insensible.
So tight was she, being in any event a very small girl,
he felt like he was penetrating a ten year old - not
that this was any great detriment you understand.
Melody of course had discovered that her former pain
had somehow taken a rain check, and that what her
father was doing to her currently, exceeded even her
wildest expectations of pleasure. Thrusting back with
her hips, all she wanted was that cock.....and to be
honest, anyone else's, in her 24/7.
It may not have been art, but it was certainly
progress. Penetrating that diabolically hot little
cavern as far as the cervical wastelands, he had Melody
literally crying out in uncontrolled passion and the
exchange of father-daughter dialogue left little to the
imagination either. She didn't know it but he was
raping her senseless. Each increasingly hard thrust,
payback for the many sleights and insults she had
heaped upon him over the years. The only vague negative
might have been the fact that far from being hurt or
humiliated by his aggravated indecencies, she was
experiencing total ecstasy.
Denise had by now reached her second orgasmic peak for
the evening, but in the light of the incestuous tableau
being played out right beside her, was of a mind for
even more craven indulgence and thus she began feeling
up her daughter's somewhat damp breasts, pulling those
still girlish nipples and waiting for an opportunity to
kiss those sexy little lips that courtesy of her
father's relentless intercourse with her, were framed
now in silent epithets of pleasured release.
As to who ran out first to the tape can never be known.
He felt his daughter beginning to quiver convulsively
even as her vaginal muscles clamped his own extended
flesh like a vise. She felt something hot and sticky
spraying her inner walls and was aware of him jerking
spasmodically deep inside her.
Unfortunately, not a solitary family member had shown
the foresight to draw the bedroom curtains.
"George, come up here quickly," young Debra Carlyle
called down the stairs to her new husband, "You're not
gonna BELIEVE what's going on next door hun?"
(c) Peter_Pan 2006
Visit "The World of Peter_Pan" website:
http://www.geocities.com/worldofpeter_pan/index.html
Latest "Harper Valley" book: "Postscript" available now
at: http://www.lulu.com/content/402381
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not real life. Anyone acting
out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to
many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a
fellow convict in their local prison.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 48