Message-ID: <19505eli$9901310432@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "ZN" Subject: The Complete Daddy's Little Girl (Bi Incest, Bestiality-woman/dog, Anal, Gang Bang, Masturbation, Voyuerism) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <000f01be4c86$24a6ea80$4fc556d1@ms538977> This has: Bestiality-woman/dog, Bi Incest, Anal, Gang Bang, Masturbation, Voyuerism. Yes I am the author of this and all my other stories. This is one of many handles I have used over the years. If you see any of my stories with other titles anywhere Please let me know!! Also if you see my stories on other sites Please let me know!! Especially Pay sites. They are all doing so without my permission!! This like all my stories are works of fiction!! None of the people in any of my stories are in anyway real or based on real people. I reserve all rights to this story. It may not be transmitted to the public by any means (such as posting to the Internet or to newsgroups) and may not be changed in any way (such as altering the story or title) without my expressed written permission. Zombie Night (c) 1984 SEND COMMENTS TO ZOMBIENIGHT@HOTMAIL.COM Daddy's Little Girl Chapter 1 The brilliant spring sunshine streamed in through the large open bay window. A soft, pleasant breeze was rustling the trees, most of them tall oaks in this part of Evanston, and their shadows danced energetically against the far wall of young June Donovan's room. June turned over on the bed, squinting and shielding her eyes from the brightness that played over her sleep-softened twelve year old face. Her long glossy blonde hair cascaded over the pillow, forming a soft honey-colored cushion for her head which lay prettily framed against it. Only a thin sheet protected her ripely maturing young body from that cooling breeze blowing in gentle and warm through the open window. June stretched and yawned, her shapely young breasts dislodging the sheet with their movement. She had the body of a lush young Venus which any interested observer could have traced in detail through the clinging sheet only barely concealing the high-set, rounded breasts whose taut-tipped nipples showed so clearly through the thin cotton fabric. The sheet tapered down over a tiny, girlish waist to round hourglass hips of newly acquired proportions. Her belly was flat and smooth, and the soft little mound of her pussy swelled gently upward between full well-shaped thighs. From there her long shapely legs tapered downward to the very tips of her toes poking high under the covering sheet. June had the sort of developing body that would have attracted attention on any street -- admiring attention from the most discriminating of men, envious attention from too-old women who had not looked that good even when they were twelve. Wherever she went, eyes were always on her depravity-inciting young body, her long blonde hair and her fine-boned, pouty-lipped features. It would have been asking too much to expect people not to stare, even though June was only twelve years old. For she had that sort of body and looks that epitomized everything that was considered youthfully beautiful -- and sexy. Her honey-blonde hair framed a heart-shaped young face that invariably turned heads. Her bright blue eyes were large and full of innocence, with long dark lashes. She had a tiny uptilted nose and a ripe red young mouth that beckoned even when she was frowning. Her complexion was very smooth and without blemish, slightly tanned and with twin roses in her cheeks. To say that June was a beautiful child was slightly an understatement. To say that she was proportioned altogether too sexily for a twelve year old girl was hitting the nail right on the head. She had that sort of blonde, youthful, developing allure every man dreams of. Lazily, she yawned again and laid her golden head back down on the pillow. According to the clock on the bureau, it was much too early to get ready for school. Closing her eyes again, she faded off dreamily into a half-dozing, half-wakeful state. It was during this brief period that daddy came to her again. Her eyelashes flickered slowly on her drooping eyelids. She could see her daddy very dearly now. He was holding his massive penis in one hand, lifting it up over his mature hair-covered testicles, totally naked except for the festooning of his trousers around his ankles. His eyes glowed wildly, totally un-daddy-like. Guy Donovan almost never looked like that at his daughter -- at any rate not that she'd ever noticed -- yet in this half-dream hallucination he was standing before her with his penis in his hand, some sort of milky droplets glistening in the small opening at its peak, his eyes shining with desire. Just like in that biology book Ronald showed me, June thought with one part of her half-dozing mind. His penis seemed quite huge, thick and swollen with blood, and covered with a roadmap tracery of throbbing blue veins. The dozing girl's nostrils flared, and she felt her heart palpitate swiftly, a vein throbbing openly in her smooth clear temple. Instinctively her trembling fingers moved lightly down over the heaving mounds of her shapely breasts, down over her nicely curved belly, then down ... into the soft, blonde pubic triangle between her shivering legs. A soft gurgle rose from her throat as her fingers slipped in through the smooth, moist opening of her cuntal lips and further still towards her softly in-sucking vaginal mouth. June began breathing heavily as she pushed her fingers in through the velvet smooth wetness, then pulled them out again with an enervating little gasp. Her unseeing eyes flew open for a minute and then fluttered closed again as her middle finger began to slip faster in and out of the warmly seeping slit of her pussy. In her mind's eye, daddy became her lover. He came to her with his immense penis in his hand, spread her legs wide apart, and struggled forward with his hairy legs in order to seek entrance in the warm moist opening of what Ronald had called her "cunt." For some time now she had thought of it as that, although the biology book he'd showed her had referred to the opening between her legs as her "vagina" and this was what her mother called it as well during the nervous session when she had explained to her where babies came from. But she had known that for so long. Yet somehow she hadn't wanted to tell her mother that she knew already -- that was how secrets built up. Ronald, her fifteen year old cousin who went to Wilmette High School, across the street from Niles Township Junior High, had told her all about where babies came from long ago. She hadn't believed it at first -- how could she possibly believe that her mother would let her father do a thing like that? Put his penis inside of her mother ... she couldn't believe it at first ... at first it had seemed too dirty to believe ... But gradually the young pre-teen's feelings about "sex" had changed and she had come to accept it. Walking around, observing people, it occurred to her that everyone was the product of that lewd act and that therefore it couldn't really be "dirty!" Because if everybody were absolutely "clean" with respect to sex, then there wouldn't be any people in the world, would there? And once her mind and feelings opened toward sex, and she had come to accept it as natural, then her curiosity escalated as well. Particularly with respect to how it would feel for her, herself, once her vagina should ever have the chance to clasp a male penis within its hot sexy grasp. And with all of this spinning through her impressionable young mind, June had come to wonder about daddy. Daddy. Who seemed to keep her mother so blissfully happy that she was always singing about the house, when she did the dishes, or the washing, or put out the food for Brute, their handsome German shepherd, or fixed a meal for the whole family ... Brute ... Her sex-drugged mind conjured up the image of their powerful big watchdog. What a good dog Brute was. She could remember not so long ago when he was a little puppy what fun they used to have scampering about in the little park across the alley from the house. What a good, kind dog he was. And so affectionate. Of course, Brute was very far from being a puppy now. Indeed, he had grown so fast she had quite lost track of him. Now he was powerful and adult, with a strong masculine personality emanating from his handsome canine features. No harm could ever come to the family while Brute was around. He had a guardian quality about him, forbidding to outsiders but friendly and loving for them. He stood guard like a sentinel over a museum case full of precious jewels. No harm could ever befall the Donovan family while Brute was there. He was guardianship personified. The dozing girl's fingers moved faster and faster through the warm slippery folds of her young cunt, as a groan of exquisite joy escaped her parted lips. But how had she started thinking of Brute? Daddy was the one she wanted to think of. He kept her turned on. Brute could only be a distraction. In the year-and-a-half since she had begun masturbating, she had thought of almost nothing but daddy, even though cousin Ronald had once tried to play with her body in a way that she had to confess afterward was pretty exciting. Not that she had let him, of course. She had slapped his hand and indeed carried on very strictly with him. Quite angry with his forwardness -- on the surface, at least -- she had let him know in no uncertain terms that it was shameful and that her father would probably kill him if he ever found out, and what a disgrace it was for their families, and so on. Yet secretly she had felt a terrible illicit excitement when Ronald tried to cup his hand over her sweater-taut breast. He certainly didn't get much for his trouble, mostly just the point of her brassiere, and a flare of anger from her. Yet there was this undeniably deep, squirmy feeling in her loins afterwards, and her breath had come unnaturally hot in the lengthy silence that lasted all the way home. What if he had actually tried to -- had actually gotten his hand under her brassiere and managed to feel her heaving young breasts, squeezing those firm, full mounds in his strong eager hands? What if his fingers had actually touched her swollen nipples? How would that have felt? There was a sharp intake of breath from the young girl on the bed as her fingers now moved with increasing urgency within the hot wet folds of her pussy. The nipples of her breasts seemed to be tingling with heat, and the entire triangle of her loins was fluttering and full of butterflies racing around like mad. Her throbbing breasts rose and fell irregularly, alive with emotion. She saw her daddy, large as life leaning over her, moving down onto her open body, grating his dark hairy chest all over her heaving breasts and nipples, rubbing her smooth white skin with his rougher flesh, breathing hotly into her face, his enormous penis sliding forward in ... in through the sensitive wet portals of her hotly energized young cunt ... plunging forward ... electrifying her hypersensitive little clitoris with his touch, massaging it around agonizingly in a way that made her beautiful blonde head strain backward, her mouth open and echoing sharp, urgent little cries, the muscles and veins in her neck standing out, pulsating with an as yet unquenched desire, striving for an impossibly beautiful orgasm ... And then suddenly there was something else! Her nostrils flared wider, her breathing came more hotly until she was actually panting -- as her mental vision of daddy was replaced by Brute! Not actually having sex with her, of course. But performing with another dog as she had watched him do in the park one day last week. It all came back to her now as her mind conjured up fresh memories in rhythm with her earnestly working fingers between her legs. They had gone into the park and there had been another sort of dog, a bitch. Some kind of mongrel, perhaps mostly terrier. Obviously Brute and the bitch were well acquainted. June hadn't been able to tear her eyes away as Brute's shining long red penis had slid so smoothly from its furry sheath between his legs as he attempted to mount the other dog, both of them panting with their wet tongues hanging out. So effortlessly had the dog's penis slid into the bitch's vagina that there was scarcely any positioning to do at all, and then Brute had gone ahead, pummeling the other dog for all she was worth, panting like crazy as his forepaws held him hunched obscenely over her back. June had felt her own breath coming very fast watching them, her loins warming inexplicably. She had never seen or imagined Brute as a sexual being before, and it came as something of a shock to see him engaging in such a highly-charged, passionate enterprise, although afterward she had wondered at her own surprise. Sex was after all the way of the world, and the system through which new dogs and new people were produced. To discover that her beloved Brute could engage so enthusiastically in such practice should not have taken her breath away so. Yet it had, undeniably. She had watched right through to completion, her mouth holding helplessly slack and unable to speak the loose leash in her hand hanging limply to the ground. And then she had noticed something else, she remembered now -- Brute's beautiful brown eyes were fastened upon hers! But why had that taken her aback so? Was there anything unnatural in that? She was his mistress, so naturally he gazed at her, even while having sex with another dog. June groaned in her deepening dream of lust, her middle finger moving swiftly in and out of the moistly sucking passage of her cunt. She had started off thinking of her handsome daddy who kept mother so happy with his manly ways, but now she was thinking of Brute, their sleek dark German shepherd. Thinking of what he had done to that female dog in the park across from their house ... his hips moving relentlessly back and forth ... his soft brown eyes fastened upon her as his burning red penis disappeared into the other dog, then came out again, sleek and glistening, out to its full thick length ... but all at such a furious pace that it took her breath away ... and she had gulped and imagined ... but no! ... and then the tingling ... that fierce, mindless tickle in her loins ... with Brute panting away ... "Oooooooooohhh, Brute ..." she found herself whispering huskily, her fingers moving in and out with increasing speed. And then it was her handsome daddy again, moving in and out between her legs, his hungry mouth clamped down on hers, kissing her soft succulent lips demandingly ... his hips working in a mad rhythm ... and then ... then ... "Ooooohhhhhhh ... AH! Honeeeeeeeey!" June twisted and turned on the bed as if in the grip of some obscene, soul-destroying torture. A wave of feeling combining aching pleasure with the sheerest agony washed through her shivering body from toenails to hair ends, momentarily convulsing her hot young flesh and making her cry out as if fighting off an invisible attacker, her hand continuing to work furiously within the burning hot confines of her churning young cunt. And then there was one long, endlessly drawn-out groan from her parched young lips, and a cascade of perspiration exposed itself on her smooth young skin, joining a post-climactic rash which had traveled swiftly up her arms and right to the base of her throat. She groaned, moaned and whined, her voice fading away little by little as she managed only slowly to loosen herself from the blinding outswell of her dream-induced orgasm. It was some time before her eyes opened again and she found herself staring at the ceiling, her body awash with perspiration, her lovely face flushed and warm, her thighs weak and trembling. Her loins felt as if they were lying in the sunshine of a warmish summer afternoon, quiet and content with a small surfeit of remaining pleasure echoing softly through the confines of her thighs. "Oh, gosh," she breathed huskily, gulping as the force of her orgasm brought her fully awake. She tried to remember what it was that she had been thinking of in connection with Brute, but now somehow it seemed to escape her. Something about the two dogs in the park ... That was right. She remembered now. But why had she thought of Brute while she was making love to herself? Almost always she thought only of daddy. He was so worldly and mature and handsome, with gleaming teeth in a big smile, thick curly black hair that always looked glossy and wet, broad shoulders, long legs and narrow hips, and an immense chest full of wiry black hairs. Daddy put the little boys in school to shame. He was such a man! But gosh if he ever found out that she thought such things about him, there would be the devil to pay! She cupped her, rounded young breasts softly in her hands and knocked away the sheet, sitting up so that she could look at herself in the mirror over her dresser, her long blonde hair falling away in back of her. If daddy ever saw her like this, she'd bet that he'd want her as much as she always wanted him in her dreams. Ah, but what was the use of dreaming! Was it her fault that she was so sexed up? No, if cousin Ronald hadn't started her thinking about it, she probably would never have started playing with herself and thinking about daddy. So it really wasn't her fault. But on the other hand, what could she do about it? Was there no way to turn back the tide, turn the clock around and go back to her former innocence, when she would never have dreamed of playing with herself? No, it was useless. But why had she been thinking of Brute? And the way she had been thinking of him ... no, it didn't bear thinking about. She swung her long slender legs over the side of the bed, jumped up and started getting ready for school. June had an elaborate ritual that she followed when getting ready for school, and not a small part of it was snatching glimpses of herself in the numerous mirrors that she had placed strategically about the room. She had such perfectly shaped breasts, she thought all the girls at school were jealous of her -- and she never tired of glancing at them, watching them jiggle sexily as she moved, nothing their clever uplift and voluptuous firmness, and the way her strawberry-hued nipples would harden and lift in the merest breeze. Then there were her shapely hourglass hips beneath an almost non-existent waist with the flattest of tummies, and the long, smooth legs which she kept hairless by sneaking off with mommy's little razor every so often. She also had a bit of golden fleece in her armpits, but this was easily taken care of, too. All her hair was golden and very fine. It didn't grow fast enough to warrant shaving or cutting very often, and probably she needn't have bothered, Still, she liked to look and feel nice and clean. The twelve year old vamp also glanced at her curly blonde pubic hair in the mirrors as she paraded around the bedroom getting organized. She was often put out because it seemed to her the hair in her golden triangle was altogether too sparse. Her mother's, for example, was very thick and curly -- a bright russet color. She knew that was what the hair on a girl's pussy was supposed to be like. Somehow it didn't seem normal for hers to be so wispy, indeed almost bare, when she was so perfect in every respect. Well, anyway, that probably wouldn't be so important for her until she was older and ready to marry. And even then perhaps she would find a boy who would be tolerant of this imperfection. Or would she ever marry! The thought of actually having a baby sent shivers down her spine. She didn't want to leave daddy; she would always love him no matter what. If only he could see that and make up his mind that they should stay together for ever and ever. But it was useless; he scarcely noticed her. Even the other evening, when she had tried to sit on his lap and snuggle up to him when mother was occupied in the kitchen, he had shoved her angrily off his lap before she even had a chance to ascertain the quality of his sex equipment. It didn't seem fair somehow; she so adored him, and he scarcely noticed her. Well, that was life. June glanced at the clock. It was time to put a little speed on if she was going to make school in time for her first class. Chapter 2 If June only knew. For, at this very moment, Guy Donovan was indeed thinking of his young daughter very affectionately with love in his heart -- as his long thick cock slid in and out of his red-haired wife's hotly grasping vagina. "Guy! Oh Guy!" Dora Donovan gasped, working her hips desperately in order to milk his enormous blood-bloated rod of flesh of every last thrill and every last drop of scalding hot sperm. For even though Dora had been on the pill for years, she still delighted and felt an exquisite thrill when she felt that lust-heated semen squirting up inside of her. And now she wanted it more than ever -- because there was a terrible fear in her chest that she was losing her husband. It was nothing that she could put her finger on exactly; it was just that, for the last several months, he had been increasingly preoccupied and distracted when they were making love. As if he were thinking of someone else. They had always made love with the lights on, so that they could see each other's bodies moving, his shining penis slicking in and out through the caressingly passion-drenched folds of her yearning, burning cunt, in the mirrors that surrounded them on the walls at all sides. That was a part of their excitement, watching themselves fuck each other like this, in whatever position it was they were doing in -- Viking ship, sixty-nine, or whatever. When she sucked on Guy's magnificent cock, she also liked to glance into one of the mirrors to watch herself. Often he would be probing his fingers into the warm, moist slit of her pussy while she sucked so lovingly on the rigid warmth of his desire-thickened penis. Gently, he would stroke the hot tingling lips of her vagina, and this would drive her wild, until she could hardly feel his cum come squirting out to flood deliciously against the back of her throat. Then too, she liked to watch when he licked and nibbled at the fiercely sensitive outskirts of her burning cunt, sliding his tongue snakelike deeply into her clasping vagina, in order to draw ecstatic little gasps from her hoarsely struggling throat. All this mirror-watching was a fiercely erotic part of their love-making and had lent tremendously to their mutual excitement all through the years. They could watch themselves, no matter what their position was or what they were doing. But no more. For recently, Guy had taken to preferring making love in the dark, and Dora knew what this meant. The fact that her husband now yearned for darkness was a sure sign to her that he probably wanted to imagine he was making love to someone else. Not that there was any other indication of his straying interest. Occasionally she thought she had caught a word through his passionate gasps -- perhaps a part of a girl's name -- but it was impossible to link those disjointed sounds with any illicit infatuation on Guy's part. It was all too unclear and imprecise. Pushing these tormenting thoughts from her mind, the lewdly skewered wife worked her hips around and groaned, feeling the enormity of her husband's penis sliding so achingly in and out of her burning vagina. It was like being dredged with an earth-mover when Guy was inside of her, his cock was so huge and dominating. It had always been like this, and that was part of the reason she had loved him and been so passionately devoted to him all of her life. Even when he was only seventeen, his penis had seemed so huge to her, with all those rough, vagina-rippling little ridges, that it had immediately dominated her every thought and consideration for the future. Dora had never regretted her decision to devote herself wholely to making Guy Donovan happy. He had proved to be a husband and lover without equal, and her loins still ached from time to time, at the most peculiar of moments, when she thought of her handsome, dynamic and cunt-pleasingly hung husband. She might just be lingering over the kitchen sink washing dishes and daydreaming aimlessly, and her mouth would water and her loins begin to chum thinking of the wonderful fucking he had given her that morning or the night before. To live as his slave forever was surely the highest ambition she could have. And then this. This terrible suspicion that he was closing his eyes and thinking of someone else as he fucked her, or when she sucked on his cock, was just too much to bear. Why did this nagging suspicion persist so strongly, though? What other substantiation for it was there, besides her own intuitive feminine suspicion? Guy's performance was as adequate as ever, even though he closed his eyes more and occasionally mumbled a name that she scarcely caught. Or was it a name? Perhaps it was merely an obscenity breaking from his lips from time to time in appreciation of the way her loins were moving beneath him and around him. Her suspicions were spoiling her enjoyment of sex. Several times recently, she had found herself straining more desperately than was normal for her orgasm and, indeed, for the last month, had missed several of them. She was becoming increasingly frustrated, at an age when any normal woman is more hypersexed than ever. And, if she didn't make it this morning, she didn't know what she was going to do. Trying to elaborate her excitement, the troubled housewife thought back to the first time she and Guy had ever made love. She had been just fourteen then and obsessed with curiosity about sex, despite her puritan upbringing. Guy had been just seventeen but already known as a slick operator about school. Rumor was that he had bedded almost the entire female half of the junior class with the masterful domination of his sexual technique, and that his penis was of appreciable size and quality. Naturally, talk like this had only served to titillate her, when she should have been afraid and cautious about him. So that, when the older student asked her for a date, she had responded affirmatively with almost bubbling eagerness, her heart racing frantically in her fulsome young chest. True to his reputation of being "fast," he slid his hand inside her brassiere with almost their first drawn-out passionate kiss. While his tongue fucked her gasping hot mouth, his fingers were suddenly grasping her nakedly stiffening nipple and the firm but resilient flesh of her tender young breast. Not wanting to give up his masterful, loin- drenching kiss, she didn't struggle overly to get rid of his gently squeezing hand. And then when he started pinching her throbbing nipple between thumb and forefinger, she became too aroused to do anything at all about this fiercely erotic fondling. Finally, he unfastened her brassiere and inclined his head, taking one of her bursting hot nipples into his mouth and much of her surrounding sensitive breast tissue as well, sucking hungrily on the virginal mounds rising and falling with increasing passion beneath his lips. The tickling of his tongue as it batted her nipple back and forth brought it up quickly to a loin- tingling hardness, and shivering little thrills seemed to pass in waves up the young girl's thighs, searing through her loins and belly, finally pouring like molten lava into the lust-infused roundness of her sensitive young breasts. So preoccupied did she become that she scarcely noticed it when one of his hands slipped up under her skirt as well, madly caressing her smooth cream-white thighs. "No-oh, Guy, no!" she protested, sensing that she might not be able to hold him back in time. But his hands had kept stroking her relentlessly, roving the full length of her aroused teenage body, over her crazily quivering stomach and on down to the nylon covered softness of her throbbing pubic triangle. Then he began stroking her there, lewdly insinuating his middle finger up under the tight elastic legband of her white nylon panties and into the moist virginal split of her pussy. This started an aching, yearning sensation that was totally unlike any other feeling the young redhead had ever known before in her young life. In reality, she knew of nothing to compare it with. Her mother had always severely forbidden masturbation and filled her pretty young head with terrible stories of what might happen if she practiced it -- a slew of pimples on her face, a glint in her eyes that would be readily detectable by the most casual observer, perhaps even madness. Dora struggled and protested fairly strongly against her ardent date's searching fingers, though with increasingly weaker resolve, as she squirmed around on the car seat beneath his maddening caresses. "No, no Guy, not now. Oh please don't," she gasped excitedly into his ear. Which only served to spur him on! Apparently paying no attention to her pleas, suddenly he was working with the crotch of his Levi's, and then there was a metallic rasp as he drew his zipper down. Then, with equal suddenness, there was a warm blunt pressure against the top of her thigh. She gasped. Dora had never seen or felt a man's penis before, and the muscles of her body contracted violently as she now felt its soft muscular heat against the smooth naked flesh of her upper leg. She was about to pull away, despite her curiosity, but then, suddenly, his fingers were probing again between her legs, moving deeper under her panties and wetly upward through the passion-slick confines of her churning vagina. This sent a shock of pleasure rippling through her loins which had no counterpart in living memory. The electric quality of that feeling fairly froze the young virgin to the car seat. She could not move for the moment as ecstatic pleasure raced around inside her inexperienced twelve year old body. Guy took this to mean that he could have his way with his date, and immediately pursued further. Taking her slender little hand, he placed it over his obscenely revealed cock and forced her fingers to wrap around it. She clenched it tight out of instinct, hearing his answering groan of pleasure as she imparted an affectionate little squeeze to it, his groan mingling with her own little ecstatic gasps of joy. She had never expected it to be so enormous. It seemed as if her fingers could barely go around it. Without thinking, she began to massage the thick outer skin back and forth, up and down over the muscular young shaft. Nothing else in the world had ever felt so nice or so complete. Now, with her panty leg band stretched uselessly over the back of his hand, he was digging his middle finger deep into her wide-splayed cunt, which was wet from the juices seeping so excitedly from its parted lips. He was stretching the tiny ring of her still-intact hymen so that she was almost afraid that he might split it and technically put an end to her virginity on the spot -- but there was nothing she seemed capable of doing about it. The thrills he was giving her raced too wildly through her excited young body for her to attempt anything but the most feeble resistance. Dora relaxed her inner thighs in order to give him greater access to her open pussy, and, at the same time, increased the speed of her own hand fondling his desire-hardened cock. With each gentle pull, she could feel Guy's cock jerking upward toward a greater hardness than she would ever have dreamed possible. God, would he try to thrust it up between her legs, she wondered? Then, suddenly, Guy tried to roll over on top of her, and, prudence at last taking firm hold on her morally straying mind, she managed, willy- nilly, to resist. Clamping her thighs tightly together, she trapped his rock-hard penis warmly between them on the outside of her panties. Guy struggled like a madman to lift up and get the hot rubbery tip lodged into the opening of her wetly throbbing vagina, but she struggled with all her strength against him -- inadvertently, at the same time, tightening her grip on his straining young cock. Then, just as he forced the head of his instrument underneath the restricting leg band of her panties, its wildly pulsating nose poised between the splayed- open lips of her cunt, she felt a hot, thick stream of liquid come spurting out of it, drenching her pubic hair with his warm sticky sperm. It covered the insides of her thighs and dripped wetly down between her legs to moisten the car seat beneath her trembling and still pantied buttocks. Then Guy had emitted a final orgasmic groan and collapsed across her heaving breasts. Dora hadn't let the terror of the junior class fuck her that first time, but, God, when she did, it was so great! She had never regretted her initial rejection of Guy's first advances, for this had served to work him up to a fever pitch and win him for her in the long run Eventually, he became so wild to get between her legs, he would have done anything to get her ... even marry her, as he did. And now, lying beneath her husband of nearly thirteen years, she was using these exciting scenes from the early days of their courtship to work her loins up to an excruciating peak from which she could not fail to tumble headlong into another of her many Guy-inspired orgasms that she had come to know and love and be devoted to over the long years of their married life. But then again, the interfering thought ... who was he thinking of? With his eyes closed and that endless, unintelligible murmuring which might be obscene, but which might not be? Who was her beloved husband thinking of these days when he fucked her? Dora gasped and shut her eyes. She had almost been there, but her suspicions were destroying it for her. It wasn't fair. Why was she cursed so? Why did human beings have such complex minds and emotions that such small distractions could interfere with their most basic -- and base -- desires? The unhappy redhead sighed and groaned. Her vaginal walls clung hungrily to her husband's swiftly moving cock, and her nostrils were still flaring, but she had become too distracted and couldn't concentrate now on achieving her so-longed-for climax. Why couldn't life be simpler? Other animals than man didn't suffer from these complexities. Take Brute, for example, their handsome German shepherd. She was certain that Brute was never thinking of anything else when he had sexual intercourse with one of the many bitches in the neighborhood who continually sought him out. Brute was never bothered with jealousy, was never limited to a single bitch, and so on. She could remember several weeks ago watching him out the window when he had fucked that Dalmatian from down the block. How the Dalmatian had stood there, apparently unmoved, her tongue lolling out of its spotted head, while Brute screwed her furiously, his great haunches jerking powerfully, his forelegs gripping snugly about the other dog's shoulders, his longish red tongue hanging out of his mouth, wet and dripping with thick saliva, his slick red penis sliding lewdly in and out of the other dog's body to an alarming length. That was one of the few times Dora had ever paid much attention to Brute's sexual proclivities. She had known that he tended to be somewhat rambunctious around the neighborhood, and not a few people had complained; but, after all, it was nothing much to make a fuss over. Dogs, after all, would be dogs. But that particular morning she had been left peculiarly frustrated from Guy's furious, hyper-fast fucking, which he had excused on the grounds that he was late for work. Consequently, her loins were still swarming with desire as she watched Brute mount the female Dalmatian . And what a splendid beast he was! She could scarcely believe the length and thickness of his dog's penis as it escaped from the soft furry covering beneath its belly. Somehow she had always imagined that dogs had very tiny penises. Brute's certainly had always seemed normal -- although, obviously, when he was aroused, it became anything but that. She had been quite taken aback, and, remembering rightly, her breath had whooshed out of her lungs as she gaped in amazement at the furious quality of Brute's fucking. Was it only her imagination that his eyes seemed to fasten on her as well, as he moved in that savage sexual embrace? Those big beautiful brown eyes with their long dark lashes? And she could remember how she had blushed meeting his gaze, innocent as that meeting was, as she found herself wondering somewhat obscenely what that longish tongue of his might feel like if it ever approached her tender pussy flesh the way Guy's occasionally did ... "OH! OH! OH MY GOD! BRUTE! GUY!" What was that? Had she mentioned Brute's name? Well, it really didn't matter. All that mattered was that, as she closed her eyes and imagined Brute mounting the Dalmatian, Guy's fucking her became all the more excruciatingly lovely. She could feel every last blood-filled ridge of his masterful cock pumping into her joyously clenching vagina, drawing the folds of her pussy with it in ecstatic surrender. Everything seemed so wonderful ... and wonderful ... Brute furiously fucking the other dog, his beautiful eyes on her ... Guy's thick lust-engorged rod of flesh dredging her loins so burningly ... and then she was THERE! THERE! "Brute ... oh darling ... darling ... no, Guy ... oh ... oh, oh ... OH!" Guy continued to pump her ravagingly, his penis twisting this way and that, bumping savagely at her sensitive little clitoris. His hands gripped her firmly mounded breasts and squeezed them without mercy, his face and neck straining toward his own orgasm. At the same time, Guy Donovan was struggling to get his daughter June out of his mind. Only twelve years old and already driving him crazy! He had become obsessed with her young buxom blonde beauty. Once the lights were out, he saw her continuously as he made love to Dora. He cursed himself for it, but he couldn't help himself. The way she paraded around the house, that cock-teasing walk of hers ... her long blonde hair ... the occasional glimpses of her naked breasts as she ran from bathroom to bedroom, breasts just waiting to be touched and suckled ... everything combined to make his daughter the central figure of his sensuous thoughts. Guy gasped as Dora's warm wet vaginal walls slid over his desire- swollen rigidity like melted butter. This was June's cunt, June's beautiful blonde vagina, caressing and kissing his urgently pummeling cock ... His head fell loosely forward and back, like the head of a puppet, as his loins buffeted forward and his thick rock-hard cock speared his wife without mercy. He could hear her whimpers of approaching climax as they seemed to be June's. His penis raced up between her trembling legs like a fast whirring drill boring through the depths of the earth, battering and smashing all before it in great waves of warm moist flesh, his pelvis smacking into her and flattening her upraised buttocks with a hard, sharp slap that reverberated through the bedroom like a flat-handed blow across the cheek He reached forward with both hands and grasped her shoulders, pulling her whole body tightly against him. His thick hard cock had sunk to its fullest length in her quivering white belly, and she could feel the hardness of its caplike head pressed snugly against the sensitive end of her cervix deep inside. Dora shuddered through her first shattering orgasm, groaning all the while and hung onto her husband as she began working toward a second. Somehow, she realized, thinking of Brute fucking the Dalmatian had distracted her from her other morbid thoughts and left her free to work upward toward an overwhelming fulfilling climax. She held the handsome German shepherd strongly in her mind's eye as she continued to work her pelvis all around her husband's pummeling hard cock-thrusts. She felt his hands slide down to the rounded curves of her hips as he began a slow, teasing rotation of his rigid cock deep inside her spasming womb. Her muffled sobs of delight mingled huskily with his passionate gasps while his hands ran down the fullness of her quivering breasts. Then he began shifting to a series of hard, cruel thrusts, the fluted pink flanges of protective flesh around her cunt drawing back with each out-stroke, then being swallowed inside again as Guy thrust forward into her open cunt with a powerful in-and out rhythm. Squeezing all around her soft jiggling buttocks, his fingers dug cruelly into her cringing little puckered anus, then clasped her hips and pulled her back over his bursting cock while he continued to skewer and ram her with increasing abandon. His body was now a ball of sheer uncontrolled lust unleashing itself completely against the squirming, tender twelve year old blonde daughter beneath him in his imagination. He could feel his heated cock growing thicker and thicker in her belly as he ground his bloated penis savagely into her with a wave of tremulous delight flickering across his lust-contorted features. He had never had anything as tender and young as his lovely blonde daughter before, so helpless beneath his rippling urgency -- not even Dora had felt so good at that age. His penis inflated and burned as it never had before. He was almost there now, almost there, and he continued to ram her eagerly with long hard strokes. He had to end it before he went insane. Dora's whimpers stretched into a long, low continuous whine that filled the master bedroom like a distant siren. Through the dim haze of her tortured mind, she watched Brute racing across an open field, his great furry coat rippling so sleek in the bright summer sunshine, his handsome canine features full of life and excitement. Inside her, Guy's penis felt as if it were expanding wildly and that his rampaging instrument might split her ecstatically in two. Oh yes ... yes ... he was going to cum in her ... her wonderful lover ... Brute's face ... Sobs began to rack her passion-drenched flesh, her voluptuous body shivering all over. Then, as her warm wet vaginal muscles clamped snugly around Guy's hard-driving cock, her husband suddenly threw back his head and let out a ferocious cry, his pelvis shaking volcanically as his lewd hot sperm shot deep into Dora's wide-swept vaginal passage. She groaned in helpless submission, working her cuntal muscles furiously in order to climax again before he became soft. Spurt after spurt of fiery liquid sperm he emptied into her, filling her womb and belly to the very bursting point. "Oh God! Beautiful!" she whined as she felt it ricocheting around in a warm wet pool far up inside her vagina. All that lovely lust-quenching semen being squirted into her felt so warm and heavenly ., . Brute ... she thought. Brute ... Working her undulating muscles up and down around Guy's swiftly depleted rod of flesh, struggling for yet another really magnificent orgasm, she knew already that it was too late -- that pussy-satisfying hardness was gone, and the only vision left in her beautiful head was Brute's face, laughing at her. She flung her arm up over her head, sobbing out bitter tears of frustration. How was it that she had so suddenly forgotten her preoccupation with Guy's supposed infidelity ... so suddenly become so hypersexed that one orgasm was not enough for her, after so many weeks of utter frustration? And, why did she keep seeing her dog's face? Chapter 3 School hadn't gone so well for her that day, twelve year old June reflected, walking home in the late afternoon down Isabella Street. Not a small part of her discontent could be attributed to the lascivious sexual scene she had overheard from her parents' bedroom that morning as she made her way down the hall to the bathroom. Of course, she accepted the fact that her parents had sex together. Still, it was especially disturbing to her to overhear her mother's delighted gasps and moans and her father's panting groans as he fucked his wife. There was her jealousy, for one thing, and then there was the fact that her masturbation fantasies concerning her father were increasingly dissatisfactory in erotic content. No, her fingers were no longer enough, she thought gloomily. She was really hopelessly drugged on this sex thing, and she needed more! At times she dreaded to consider just what that might mean in real terms. She had glimpsed her father's penis several times while growing up, and she remembered it very distinctly as something huge, masterful and fearsome. There was its thickness, for one thing -- even at rest, it always appeared bloated and fat, traced all over and around with pulsating blue veins, hanging curved and dangerous looking above testicles which, she was convinced, might be very bruising on her tender young buttocks if they ever ... Well, but that was all conjecture. Nothing like that could ever happen between herself and her daddy. It was taboo, and she would never know where to begin to approach him. He probably regarded her as an obnoxious little brat anyway. June sighed and continued walking. She shook some length of golden hair out of her eyes and blew it off to the side, looking at the ground. It was a beautiful day in Wilmette, with the spring sunshine in full array after several days of rain. There was a scent of heady sensuality in the air, common to the first nice days of spring. She could feel her loins tingling irrelevantly, out of control. She would have willed it to stop if she could, but it was hopeless. There was nothing she could do except move along, head down and helpless beneath this spring- induced churning sensation which had so flooded her loins with the warm sticky sweetness of sexual arousal. Overhearing her parent's morning fuck had really made her jealous, so much so that she was scarcely able to concentrate on another thing as she prepared her toilette. It was all she could do to put those sounds of rampant bestial sensuality out of her mind during the interminable school day which followed. She'd thought of them together, her breath coming very fast, as she prepared her own breakfast, then lovingly set a place for her dad, then set out the various breakfast items so that Mom would be ready to prepare it the moment she appeared in the kitchen that morning, dressed and perfumed from her hot sexual scene with Daddy. The young blonde had tried reading the morning paper for a little while, but not to very good effect. The trouble was she couldn't concentrate, because she kept seeing them, locked in a flaming sexual embrace, Daddy with his enormous red penis sliding in and out of her mother's burning cunt, gleaming with the moisture of her inner softness. And then, of course, her jealousy increased and she thought of it again -- it was a vicious circle. It made her jealous, and when she became jealous she thought of it, which made her still more jealous. That awful scene of her mother and father rutting like two animals in the wilds of their large round bed. These were the thoughts which had dominated the impressionable adolescent's entire day. She'd been nervous and apprehensive of showing anything when her parents finally came down to breakfast, and then after that she thought about them all day long and of what it must be like to be -- she didn't want to use that naughty word cousin Ronald had taught her, but she couldn't help it -- to be fucked by her handsome and masculine daddy. Not that she had shown anything, of course. "Morning, kitten," her dad had said when he came into the breakfast room, kissing her lightly on the cheek. She had been afraid to answer because her throat felt all choked up, but she had smiled as best she could And then he had ruffled the morning paper she had set out by his place, harumphed and began reading. But what could she do? Now? What could she do now? Originally, masturbation had seemed to be the answer, but now it scarcely satisfied her any more. She needed more, something, anything that would quench this insatiable need in her hyper-aware young loins. But what would it be? An actual boy's penis sliding in and out between her widespread legs? Her breath whooshed with desire, even as she thought of it. But wouldn't that be heavenly, if she did actually get a real penis inside of her -- all nice and thick and hard ... That was the problem again. For, coupled with her urgent pubescent desire, there was also a vague, hopelessly shapeless fear that real intercourse with a real penis would rip her tender virginal pussy to bloody shreds. If all men's things were like daddy's and she had no reason to believe they weren't -- how could they possibly fit into the small, tender opening which existed down there between her smooth young legs within that quiet little "vee" of sparse blonde pubic hair? No, it was unthinkable. Real sex with a real man would probably kill her. But, on the other hand, what other choice was there? What other choice did she want!? Disconsolate, it seemed as if very few choices were open to her at her tender age. And she couldn't exactly confide in her mother about the terrible shameless desires which whirled around inside of her pretty little head and tingling belly when she lay in bed at night thinking of Daddy. That was also unthinkable. Secrets built up quickly. She could no longer discuss her most personal problems with her mother, who had always been her very best friend. It was all too difficult. So, it seemed that, all day long, the troubled young pre-teen had been confronted by a series of frightening and insoluble choices that left her brain only a mass of hopeless confusion. How could she possibly sort it all out? From first to last, her preoccupation with her new sexual difficulty had distracted her from doing anything useful in school, and there had been some clashes with teachers who accused her of not paying attention. What was the answer? "Hi." June looked around. It was her fifteen year old cousin Ronald. He also lived on Isabella Street, but he usually came home a different way, after playing basketball all afternoon in the courtyard at St. Ludmilla's church. Ronald was a tall, lanky boy with a shock of almost white-blond hair and a kind of stupid smile which only served to exaggerate the crookedness of his teeth and the curiously unshaven straggling hairs on his young jawline. Though a lot of girls regarded Ronald as interesting, June thought of him as somewhere between a caterpillar and a worm, when placed next to her Dad, who was everything any girl could ever dream of with respect to masculinity. "Hi," she said lamely, kicking up a patch of dust in someone's front lawn as they passed their house, the family's great Dane kicking up his usual terrific fuss as the two youngsters went by. Ronald threw a stone at the great Dane and brushed his blond cowlick back up over his forehead. He was always doing that, June thought with impatience. Wouldn't he ever grow up? "Walk you home?" he said. "Of course." That was stupid; of course he could walk her home. They were only a few blocks away now. "Have a nice day in school?" he asked. "Mmmm. Sure. A wow." She tossed her honey-blonde hair back out of her eyes and stood up a little straighter, so that her breasts would tilt up at a more inviting angle. Ronald might not be the most appealing individual in the world, but he was still male and June had some vanity about the unusual early development of her widely spaced breasts. She passed her hand down over her hips and organized the enticing sway of her walk. "Sounds like you didn't have such a great time. You'll like high school a lot better." His eyes feasted hungrily on his younger cousin, and she wondered if she detected a telltale bulge in the front of his trousers. He seemed to be walking rather stiffly, she thought with a certain vain satisfaction as he continued talking. "There's a lot more to do in high school. You're too grown up for girls your age." He winked at her. "How do you mean that?" June asked coquettishly, knowing very well how he meant that. He grinned, and the grin became a leer. "You know, June ... 'cause you've got tits." She bit down on her lip as if she were angry, but the butterflies had started up again in her loins. "Ronald Kilgoor! Don't you dare say a thing like that! You should be ashamed of yourself!" He only grinned and tossed his cowlick back out of his eyes again. Then he didn't say anything else for a long time. Finally he asked her, "You wanna go into the park?" She looked at him suspiciously. "And do what?" He shrugged. "Go on the swing. What else you got to do?" It was true she didn't have much homework, and it was such a nice day there was no point in going in. Anyway, Daddy wouldn't be home for hours and she didn't feel like hanging around the house without him. There didn't seem much harm in going into the park with Ronald. Most of it was pretty open -- except for the circle of bushes known as "Shakespeare's Grave" for some obscure reason. There wasn't much chance he'd try anything funny So they just kept walking down Railway Road until they came to the park in back of the Donovan house and the other houses that ran around the block on Isabella Street and Cardinal Drive. Then they went up to the swings and dropped their books in the grass. The little park, sometimes known as Railway Park because it had been deeded to the city by the now defunct North Short Railroad about a million years ago, contained about a half dozen baby swings and grown- up swings, a sandbox and a lot of trees and bushes. On nice summer Sundays, her father played baseball in one part of it with some of his friends or football occasionally in indifferent weather. Now June selected one of the big swings and sashayed her panty-clad ass-cheeks up onto the wooden seat. "All right," she said. "You can push me now." And he did. She felt his warm, eager hands almost caressing her tight young buttocks as he shoved her forward, each time a little higher into the air. She could feel the cool breeze blowing so sweetly on her exposed loins as her skirt opened wide and flared up embarrassingly over her tiny waist. She wanted to tell her cousin not to push her so hard, but the combined effect of his hands buffeting her hips and the wind whistling into her panty-covered loins was so exhilarating that, for a moment, she couldn't get her voice. She looked down at her lush young body as it swung outward in an arc over the grassy ground below. Her skirt had come up completely and her thin white nylon panties were in full view now, complete to the slightest wisp of blonde pubic hair curling from underneath one narrow elastic leg band. Through the apex of her panties could be made out unmistakably the shadows of other sparse blonde hairs crowding together over her softly nestling vaginal slit. June blushed right from her hairline all the way down to her toes. All the houses that looked out onto the park! And what if someone should come walking down the street or through the park! "Ronald! Please! Let me down! Stop!" But his bold hands on her shapely twelve year old buttocks had now taken to fondling them, and June's sex-hungry loins were beginning to respond -- all too much. Her entire cuntal region seemed to be glowing like a piece of iron on a hot forge. In a sense, she was afraid her loins might suddenly burst upward through her belly and out her throat as a ball of fire, the feeling was so extremely excruciating, agonizing, and she didn't feel as if she could stand it a second longer. But that squeezing and gripping by her cousin's demanding hands was gradually weakening her ability to protest. She closed her eyes and let the wind waft between her open legs, right up through her white nylon panties and into her love-starved pubescent pussy. This was ecstasy. Her buttocks, her loins, her tingling belly, everything down there seemed to be alive as if filled with electricity. She couldn't remember anything so delicious ever happening to her before. The combination of flight with fondling was exciting beyond anything she could have expected. "Please ..." she begged feebly as she came down again, "let me down ..." He gave her ear a quick lewd lick and she shivered as if with a fever, as his hands pushed her up and away again. This was heavenly, she thought; she really never wanted to stop ... "Let you down on one condition," he murmured as she returned, his fingers digging into her buttocks and driving her wild. "Huh? What?" she asked dreamily. "Let's go into those bushes over there -- by Shakespeare's Grave." His voice was bold and sure of itself. She swung away and up again, the fullness of her naked white thighs swinging forward into the bright blue sky with wanton abandon. "Huh ... oh ... all right ..." she said vaguely, only half aware of what she was agreeing to. And then he stopped the swing abruptly. Catching her breath, her flared nostrils snorting with sensuality, June let her cousin lift her off the swing, her breasts and belly sliding erotically down his muscular front like liquid rubber. Then he grabbed her hand and they ran off together in the direction of Shakespeare's Grave. Chapter 4 The grave wasn't really Shakespeare's, of course, but merely a little marker of the site where a North Short Railway man had been buried about a hundred years earlier after a disastrous collision of the four- forty with a neighborhood cow of those days, at that time the greatest transportation catastrophe in the history of the North Shore. But the marker had been faithfully tended all these years -- by Evanston Township Council after the railway made them a present of the land -- and the shrubs around it were all-concealing of the little bench next to the marker where not a few North Shore couples had come to 'spoon' and get to know each other better over the decades. And Ronald now made ready to get to know his younger, but voluptuous blonde cousin better. Dragging June down onto the bench, he pressed his mouth against hers and quickly forced his tongue in between her tightly clenched lips. The twelve year old girl's sexual anxiety had reached such a fever pitch that the feel of his tongue laving the most sacred inner portals of her warm moist mouth gave her an electric start which made her loins turn over violently. It was by pure instinct that her hands came up and grabbed his square bony shoulders, holding them tightly as she returned his kiss with fervid desire, her own tongue snaking bashfully forward and licking at his, her lips then sucking joyously on his tongue. And, if that had been all there was to it, it probably wouldn't have mattered so much. Except that then Ronald did just what she might have expected him to ... he put his hand up under her skirt ... "Oh! Arggggghhhh!" Not letting her mouth escape and beating off her struggling hands as best he could, Ronald slid one of his hands underneath her skirt, moving it smoothly up over the smooth soft warmness of her inner thighs until his young cousin jerked away from his embrace. "No -- oh! You mustn't!" she babbled, knowing that stopping was the very last thing she wanted him to do. But it was no use protesting. His mouth gripped hers again, and she couldn't resist for an instant the terrible instinct to suck lavishly on his tongue, which in a sense came to feel like a penis in her mind's imagination, the little taste buds becoming like the ridges she remembered seeing on her father's penis. Ronald took complete advantage of her temporary surrender, his fingers quickly inserting their way up under the snug elastic leg band of her snow-white panties, pressing forward to locate the quietly sleeping little slit between her legs. Oh my God, she thought as his middle finger thrust downward through her throbbing cuntal flesh, that feels so good -- oh God, I can't help myself . Giving up all thought of resisting, June's hands came up to grasp his head. His finger, which had at first encountered only quiet softness, was now rewarded with a flow of vaginal moisture which seeped in a fierce, excited rush from between June's tender cuntal folds. A soft sigh escaped her parted lips and she closed her eyes. I'm doomed, she thought. He's got me now. His experienced middle finger worked around and around her moist warm pussy flesh in an insane attempt to drive her wild. For a moment she felt as if she were dying, drowning in a quicksand whirlpool of purest carnal desire. She had never before had anything in her starving young cunt besides her own fingers, and now her tongue was being sucked on as well while Ronald's tongue lapped at the inside of her mouth with urgent need. For a moment it was easy to imagine that his tongue was a penis committing unnatural sexual intercourse with the inside of her burning hot mouth, and this thought made the adolescent blonde's loins squirm all the more. By now, Ronald's entire hand had disappeared all the way down inside her panties, the tight elastic leg band encircling his gently moving wrist as his finger wormed around inside her quivering sex-hungry loins, drawing a rush of heated wetness with every slightest movement, until his hand was pressed firmly up against her throbbing pubic region, his palm warm on her sparse young pubic hair, his middle finger almost all the way into her virginal vagina and actively finger-fucking her. "Oh no, you mustn't," she panted momentarily, breaking away from his kiss, but this was very temporary, for he smiled in that winsome male way, and she fell headlong into his kiss again, as if hypnotized, pressing her full-lipped red mouth to his with an urgency that overwhelmed even her youthful seducer. Her defenses totally down, the blonde girl's pelvis began lewdly undulating over his raping middle finger. I'm lost now, she thought. Totally, totally lost ... And she would have been -- had there not suddenly been a warning growl from the throat of the neighborhood's most menacing German shepherd ... "Brute!" she gasped, tearing herself away from her cousin Ronald's soul-kiss. The Donovan family pet glowered at Ronald, his eyes menacing and dangerous. The boy's finger slid heatedly from June's passion-drenched pussy and out from under the leg band of her soaked white panties. "Hey, go home!" Ronald yelled angrily. "What are you doing here!" The moment of respite was just long enough for June to jump to her feet and race out of the small circle of concealing shrubbery. Ronald attempted to get to his feet and follow her, but Brute's warning growl came across so bone-chilling that the fifteen year old froze in fright and dropped quickly to the bench again. "You bastard son of a bitch," the boy cursed. "I'll get you for this. You rotten son of a bitch dog." But the only reply from Brute was a slight curling of one side of his lip as the boy sat there angry and disgusted. And, for a moment, the general impression he had of the German shepherd's face was that the dog was smirking at him. * * * June raced home sobbing, partly with excitement and partly with dismay, bursting in through the kitchen's Dutch door and slamming it behind her. The car was out of the driveway, so her mother was probably out shopping and it wasn't necessary for her to dry her tears immediately. She took the stairs two at a time, sniffling and brushing the wetness on her pretty young face with her sleeve as best she could. In the bathroom, she washed her face of all telltale frozen tears and toweled it completely, so that she was clean again. Slut! the blonde girl cried at herself in the mirror, hopelessly ashamed. She had behaved terribly. But somehow, once Ronald had slid his finger up into her pussy and worked it around a little bit, she had become totally helpless and enslaved. Particularly when he had worked it around the sensitive little pleasure button of her clitoris. Oh God, that had felt so good! Then she had tingled with electricity as if her loins were on fire. Oooh, if her parents only knew what she'd just let her cousin do to her in the park. How ashamed they'd be of her. She couldn't bear it if her darling father ever found out she had let a boy do that to her. Especially when she loved only him and couldn't bear to think of anyone else touching her like that. Distraught and gasping, the twelve year old student made her way back to her bedroom, swinging her long blonde hair around her shoulders. Somehow she would have to manage to get a hold on herself. Once in the bedroom, June took off all her school things and went naked into the shower. There she let the water rush luxuriously over her still trembling young body, washing away all the telltale wetness of the furious excitement she had felt when Ronald plunged his finger in and out of the moist confines of her hotly pulsing cunt. Her hands gripped her breasts tightly, as if offering them to the water, feeling that warm needle spray prickle at the glowing pink areolas which topped her succulent young breasts. She ran her thumbs over her tender hypersensitive nipples, feeling them ache with longing, and, looking down, she realized that Ronald had excited her more than she had realized, for she seemed unable to slow the rapid rise and fall of her tingling breasts. It seemed to her as if the soft mounds of milk-white flesh were actually alive -- they had never felt so sensitive before. Uttering a tiny sigh and a groan of purest desire, June squeezed one breast until it hurt, then ran the fingers of her other hand down into the tender tendril-capped region of her pubic mound. Finding the quiet little slit between her legs, she tickled evanescently while continuing to knead her naked breast with her other hand. Her long blonde hair fell wetly backwards, dropping down over her back and the tops of her buttocks, as her face contorted and her neck strained through an uncertain, unquenchable agony of desire. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it ended, the wild flash of desire remaining between her trembling legs -- but now unresponsive in any degree to the gentle, loving tickle of her masturbating fingers. Sobbing with frustration, the voluptuous twelve year old blonde turned off the shower taps and stumbled from the shower, staggering as if controlled by her loins alone, across the bathroom, through the connecting door and into her bedroom. Everything in her body quivering with unsatiable lust, she fell across the bed with a whimper and buried her face in the coverlet. Shaking with sobs, she covered it with her tears of sexual frustration, the rage continuing unabated and flaming in her loins, regardless of any attempt on her part to masturbate it out And the aching young adolescent probably would have lain there for a long time, too, if she hadn't felt the cold nose on her shoulder ... "Brute! Why ..." June sat up on the bed. Before her stood the family German shepherd, his tail wagging with happiness to see her, his canine face open in a cheerful smile -- except where his teeth were holding onto the leather strap that was wrapped around her school books. "Brute! Why, you darling! You brought my school books home from the park for me. I completely forgot about them, darling." She took his face in her hands and accepted an affectionate lick from his lengthy pink tongue. Giggling, she closed her eyes as he washed her face with it. "Oh, Brute!" she laughed gaily. Jumping up to put his forepaws on the bed, the big dog lapped at his young mistress' milk-white thighs as well. June was still fresh from the most ennervating, debilitating feelings of desire, and the feel of Brute's roughly-skinned but gentle tongue on her sensitive leg heightened slightly the discomforting flutter in her loins. But she was not alarmed. She bent down to pick up the books from where the dog had dropped them. Only to have Brute take a long, swiping lick at her nakedly dangling breasts! Alarmed now, she drew back swiftly. "Brute! Darling, whatever's come over you?" Instinctively, she drew the thin cotton coverlet up over her vulnerable breasts. Brute's hot wet tongue had started them burning again, and now they felt as if they were expanding in all directions, fairly bursting with licentious energy. But did she have any right to blame that on the dog? Why, darling Brute loved her! He would never do anything intentionally to make her uncomfortable! Of course not. How silly of her. She let the coverlet drop again, revealing the rounded firmness of her panting young breasts with their high, hardened nipples. It was silly to behave as if Brute were a human male. He just didn't know what he was doing. When he licked at her breasts he was just trying to show his affection and friendliness. Darling Brute could never mean any harm. "Come here, sweetheart," she said affectionately, and the dog moved closer. Taking his great head in her arms, June cradled his happy face so that his tongue lolled out wetly along her forearm and his big brown eyes looked up at her full of ecstatic delight that he was in his beautiful young blonde mistress's arms. She stroked the sleek furry crown of his head and kissed him, murmuring, "June's sorry, Brute. You forgive her, don't you?" His big brown eyes spoke volumes of affection, and he tried to lick her face again. "You saved June in the park, didn't you, darling? June wants to know how she appreciates that. But at the same time I'm a very unhappy girl. Sit down on the floor and I'll explain it to you." Brute, being very well trained, padded off to the center of the bedroom floor and circled the carpet briefly before he settled in a circular furry heap, looking across the bedroom at her affectionately . June sighed and lay back on the bed totally naked, squeezing her aching breasts briefly and then spreading her long blonde hair out in back of her on the pillow like a fan. Maybe talking to Brute would help, she thought. He always had such an understanding look in his sorrowful-but- sexy eyes. Had she thought that? But it was absurd to regard Brute's eyes as sexy -- they could only be that to another dog. Anyway, he was someone to talk to. "My hero," she smiled, remembering how he had saved her from her cousin Ronald's obscene fingering inside her love-hungry pussy lips. He had really come to her rescue, just like knights of old in the storybooks rescuing a damsel in distress. She looked across the room at him, sitting there in the center of the room. Brute, who always understood her and was a friend of great depth and warmth to the entire family. Seated as she had ordered him to, his pointed ears slightly devilish in character, his strongly masculine snout underlining a handsome, intelligent face of considerable character. His long red tongue was hanging out, panting with urgency, wet with his saliva. She looked into his lovely, soulful eyes. What did they see, when they looked at her? Her newly ripened breasts, her long blonde hair? Or what? His mistress, whom he adored. Who wouldn't be flattered to be so worshipped? June sighed. It was nice having Brute here with her. With one hand she cupped her swollen right breast, looking down at the rosy aureole around its passion-puckered peak and the tiny stiffened nipple in the center. It was nice when Brute lapped at her breast, she had to admit it. No one had ever done that before. It was almost as if that was what they had been waiting for -- to be kissed, fondled, squeezed, perhaps even hurt. The twelve year old coquette looked at Brute again and smiled. "You do love me, don't you, darling? I know you do. Daddy's never licked at my breast like that, or even seen me naked, darling. Yet I think of him all the time. Why can't he love me as I love him, Brute? Is it so terribly wrong? Why can't daddy see how I love him and love me, too?" Brute made a little sound of understanding and rested his head on his legs looking at her all the while. She ran her fingers down into her tremulous young pussy in another futile attempt to dispel the terrible ache there. "See how I put my fingers in my pussy, Brute? Sometimes I stick them inside of me and make myself cum, with them, thinking of daddy. That drives me wild, only lately it hasn't been as good as it used to be." She lifted one leg and let two fingers slip in and out of her well-lubricated young cunt. Her eyes became heavy-lidded and her nostrils flared momentarily -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----