Jean Sifton

The scandalous stewardess

CHAPTER ONE

The Bahamian island of Eleuthera is a saber-shaped spit of glistening white coral sand in the crystalline waters of the Caribbean sea. One can get there by boat or by plane. It was on such a shuttle flight from Nassau that Davie Knight sat and breathlessly looked out of the narrow window on December 20th. The sixteen year old kept knotting a silk scarf between her hands, a gesture which could not escape the watchful notice of the striking older blonde woman who sat next to her. The twin-engine plane was small and claustrophobic. There was nothing but a sparkling expanse of transparent blue sea below them. Perhaps she's frightened, the woman was thinking to herself as she surveyed the luscious fresh-faced teen, whose long, glossy sable brown hair hung past her pert up-thrust young breasts that were demurely hidden behind a navy blue cardigan sweater. An emblem sewn to tile sweater pocket identified the girl as a student at one of the chic New York City parochial schools for rich girls.

The young girl's large hazel eyes had an apprehensive look, and from time to time, she would bite her full, sensuous lower lip. Color flushed the girl's smooth cheeks, though she wore no makeup. Nor did she need any. Hers were the vital and strikingly delineated features of the natural beauty.

By contrast, the older blonde woman next to her had artfully used the best cosmetics to embellish her sophisticated good looks. Subtle blue eye shadow and contrasting deep blue liner, plus a generous application of rich black mascara added depth and intensity to her bright blue eyes. Blusher and bronzes augmented an unexplainable sun tan in the middle of winter, a sun tan which was apparent on the woman's smooth thighs and arms when she removed her lightweight jacket. A clinging beige knit mini-dress did little to hide her ample braless breasts, whose firm nipples showed pointedly under the fabric.

The blonde studied the preoccupied teenager for a long moment, looking intently at her face, and then up and down the length of her body, almost the way a man would. Her eyes narrowed, and she involuntarily flicked her tongue out to lick her coral lips salaciously. Then the moment passed, and her expression became one of friendly concern as she gently tugged at the teenager's sleeve and said, "Excuse me."

She waited until the startled girl turned to her. She's nervous as hell, the blonde thought. With a warm and reassuring smile, the woman asked, "I didn't mean to startle you, but I was wondering if I could answer any questions or just be of help. I've flown this hop so many times."

Davie's eyes widened. She seemed reassured. "You have?" she asked breathlessly.

"Oh yes. I'm a stewie. But this time I'm deadheading. This is my vacation. Are you on a school holiday… all by yourself?" she probed.

"Well, sort of. My father is meeting me though I'll be staying with him."

The blonde concealed her momentary disappointment. "Oh, how nice. Does he have a house on Eleuthera?"

"Actually, it's a resort. French Leave."

The blonde brightened visibly. "What a coincidence! That's where I'll be staying, too! So Peter Knight is your father!"

"You know Daddy?" the girl asked with surprise.

"Not personally, of course. But this is my third visit to French Leave. I absolutely love it. There's no place quite like it, don't you think? And your father is in a class by himself, too. He has to be one of the most attractive men in the world. Matter of fact, you look a lot like him. You certainly have his eyes, and his coloring, and the same kind of mouth… full and well-shaped." (She had almost said "sensual" but thought better of it. Down girl, she had reminded herself. Not yet. Not yet.)

Davie blushed, "Everyone says that Daddy and I look alike. It makes my mother furious. You'd never know I was her daughter at all!" Davie giggled mischievously. She was obviously delighted by the affront to her mother which the blonde quickly picked up on. She pressed her inquiry.

"It's a good thing your mother isn't here right now, isn't it?" the blonde said with a between-us-girls look on her face. She punctuated it with a broad, sparkling smite, which put Davie further at ease.

"Wow! You can say that again!" Davie agreed, answering the smile with eyes heavenward in an expression of relief. "It's a good thing she isn't here for a lot of reasons!"

"But will she be meeting you, with your father?" the blonde inquired casually.

"Good grief, no! She's back in New York, in her precious little world of tea parties, shopping sprees and charity balls. Yeeehhhck!" Davie said emphatically. "My parents have been divorced for three years."

"I'm sorry to hear that, uh…"

"Davie."

"What a beautiful name. It suits you perfectly," the blonde cooed. "I'm Trish Byers, Davie."

"Happy to meet you, Miss Byers. Everybody calls me Davie. Everyone except my mother…"

"Oh please – please call me Trish. You make me feel a hundred and fifty years old when you say Miss Byers!"

"I'm sorry… Trish I didn't mean that at all. You're beautiful. It's just that at school they make us call everyone over twenty Miss or Mister. Force of habit, you know," Davie answered shyly.

"Well that's one habit you can break right now – at least while you're on vacation. We'll be in paradise in about twenty minutes. Then it's off with the school clothes and into the bikini for you! You do have a bikini, don't you?"

"Yes! Mummy sent me off with some square one-piece suit I wouldn't be caught dead in. That's typical of her. But the first thing I did when I got off the plane at Nassau was run to the neatest shop and buy myself a skimpy little hot pink number that's just a lot of strings crocheted together. Mummy would have a stroke if she knew!" Davie giggled girlishly again.

Trish grinned back in a conspiratorial way. "Good for you, honey it sounds as though 'mummy' is a little straight laced."

Davie threw back her hands and brought them down on her thighs emphatically. "Ohhh! You wouldn't believe it! She is the most super uptight, most hypocritical person in the whole world! She makes my life so miserable."

"But she is letting you come all the way to Eleuthera by yourself for Christmas. That doesn't seem like something an uptight mother would do," Trish ventured.

"Because she had to. The judge made her do it. She would never have let me see my father otherwise. She didn't want me to see him ever again!" said Davie, and a look of distress crossed her lovely face.

"How long has it been, honey?"

"Three years! I was thirteen when Daddy left. I cried for a whole month. Mummy hated me for that, and it made her hate him more. She thought I'd forget about him and that he'd forget about me. But it didn't work that way. At least, I haven't forgotten him."

Trish reached over and placed a warm hand on the teen's knee and patted it consolingly. Now she knew the reason for the scarf knotting and the fidgeting at the window. It wasn't the plane ride, it was Daddy Davie she was worried about. Three years is a long time to be separated from anyone.

"It's going to be fine, just fine, Davie. After a few hours, it'll seem like your dad never went away. You're going to love French Leave. Everything is so beautiful, and everyone is so relaxed. You won't want to go back."

"Do you really think so, Trish? I mean, about Dad and me? I know I won't want to go back I never want to go back to that… that bitch!"

Trish raised a carefully plucked eyebrow. "That's a pretty strong word, Davie. Is it ready that bad?"

"I hate her," Davie said levelly. "She's made me go to that horrible school all these years – that ghetto for nice girls from good families, quote unquote. It's a prison. And she won't let me go out with boys or have parties at home. Yet she has parties! I'm not supposed to know what goes on. We have this huge place, a condominium. Lots of rooms. My 'quarters' are off at one end, but I've seen a lot! I know what goes on. Mummy and her arty little fag decorator friends and swishy hairdressers. It makes me want to puke."

"I can't imagine any woman letting a man like your father go…" offered Trish, hoping for more juicy details from the innocent girl.

"That's just it – he's a real man. Mummy doesn't want a real man around. She has to wear the pants in the family."

"And your father obviously wants a real woman, doesn't he?"

"Sure. That's why he couldn't take it any more. I think Mummy was emasculating him, not treating him like a man; not giving him the love and affection and… well, you know what I mean," Davie added shyly.

"Sex?"

"Exactly. They had separate bedrooms. That went on for almost a year. My father started coming home later and later from the office. He and my mother rarely even talked to each other. Yet she insisted that he had to go to all the stupid charity balls and parties, put on a front for their friends. One day he came home and packed all his things and left a long letter for me and a two word note for my mother. She never got over that blow to her pride. Even though she got everything – the apartment the beach house on Long Island, the car – and custody of me she has kept punishing him in every way she could. But she's punished me, too, by not letting me see him for three years. She's done everything she could to turn me against him, and it's only made me love him more and resent her."

"That really wasn't very smart of her, or fair at all, trying to turn you against your father. But she's obviously very bitter," Trish offered sympathetically.

"Really. But so am I. And I'm scared, too. I mean, what if Daddy doesn't want to be bothered with me? I know he's very busy and I might be in the way and…"

"Nonsense! Your father loves you very much, I know. This is probably the best thing that's happened to him in three years, Davie," Trish said in her most sincere, maternal manner as she once more placed her haled on the lovely girl's and squeezed it reassuringly. But inwardly she was thinking about the lucky women Peter Knight must have screwed to ecstasy with his beautiful cock. She envied the women who had felt his fiery hot cum in their pussies; the women who had felt his beautiful wet mouth and tongue in their cunts, licking and sucking them to the heights of cunnilingual rapture. She felt her own cuntal juices begin to ooze into her panties, and her clitoris throbbed with excitement. But she forced herself to maintain a masque of sympathetic and conciliatory interest. She wanted to be damned sure she didn't blow her game before she got a chance to blow Peter Knight's hard cock! Then there was his sweet, virginal and oh-so-appealing daughter. Trish had plans for her, too. Big, juicy plans! "Everything is going to work out just fine, Davie I know it will."

"Do you really think so, Trish? Do you?" the girl asked anxiously.

"I know so. There's not a thing to worry about. You and your daddy will get along just great. And I'll be there. You and I can do fun things together when your dad's working. And there'll be someone else who might be fun for you…"

"Someone else? Who?" the teenager asked, her clear hazel eyes growing wider.

"My kid brother, Randy. He's 19. He's meeting me at the airport. He works for the Pan Am radar installation on the island. He's lots of fun."

"Does Randy know my father?"

"A little. It's a small island, you know. And there aren't that many whites. So everybody sort of knows everybody else. Randy lives at the base on the other end of the island, with a bunch of other guys. I'm based in Nassau, but I come to Eleuthera every chance I get."

"That's why you've got such a great tan, I guess. I'm so white and yucky looking, I'll have to hide out for a couple of days until I get toasted!"

The pilot's gravely voice interrupted on the intercom, "Ladies and gentlemen, we are approaching the landing field. Please be sure your seat belts are securely fastened and extinguish all smoking material until you are outside the field gates. We hope you enjoy your stay in Eleuthera. Thanks for being aboard."

Davie peered out the plane window. Her hands gripped the arm rests. Trish Byers patted tile pretty brunette's arm gently. "Don't worry, honey. Everything's going to work out fine just fine!"

***

Among the dozen or so spectators who watched the small aircraft touch down on the strip was a man who stood out by virtue of his proud, straight bearing, his aura of confidence and his devastating good looks. Peter Knight was a man who would be noticed anywhere. His body was firm and muscular, without an ounce of excess fat. His white slacks were impeccably tailored and the navy blue polo shirt he wore accentuated his broad chest and ample biceps. He was a youthful forty, a man with the features of Paul Newman, except that his eyes were hazel and his dark brown wavy hair was only slightly streaked with strands of gray. He was deeply tanned, and had acquired little laugh lines around his deep-set eyes. He smiled readily, showing strong and even white teeth. How different was his expression now from the one Davie remembered when she had seen him last three long years ago. In those days, Peter Knight was a successful commodity broker with a seat on the New York Stock Exchange. He was harried and depressed usually, the sunny side of his nature occluded by a bad marriage and what he called the "New York rat race" – both of which he wanted out of. He had always dreamed of opening his own resort, but Davie's mother wouldn't hear of it. She wanted the prestige, the financial security, the social life that went with being a successful broker's wife, though she had plenty of family money of her own and didn't have to rely upon his income for the lavish and pointless lifestyle that ensnared them. It took guts to make the break, but Peter Knight felt that, except for Davie, leaving New York was the best think he had ever done. The resort was an immediate success. He always had tile Midas touch for financial ventures. But he was apprehensive about his little girl. What would she be like now? Would he be able to handle her? Had three years of her mother's poison gotten to her after all? Her letters were warm and loving. Still, he had to acknowledge that they really didn't know each other very well. They were both living with fantasies and memories of the past. She was sixteen now; a teenager. Christ, he didn't know a damned thing about teenagers… especially a sixteen year old girl!

Twelve passengers descended the metal stairs from the twin-engine plane. Peter Knight's heartbeat quickened as he spotted the shy and stunning young girl who walked in the company of a flashy blonde he recognized as a previous guest at the resort. She was a stewardess, a hot number who had made overtures to him in the past. But he was very cautious about getting involved with his paying clients. It was too risky for a lot of reasons.

He went to the girls, a big appealing grin on his face. His manner was smooth and straightforward but his palms were damp.

"Davie! How are you, sweetheart?" he said as he rushed to embrace his daughter. Her sunny, angular little girl's body had been transformed into the soft, round curves of a young woman. He could feel the warmth of her firm globular breasts against his chest as he hugged her. Her glossy, sable hair was fragrant with a clean herb scent, like wild grasses in a field. It was longer than before, framing her beautiful young face whose clear, hazel eyes shone moistly from tears of emotion.

"Oh Daddy, Daddy! I thought I'd never see you again!" Davie cried. She was almost sobbing now.

Peter Knight held his daughter closely for another long moment, a moment which was fraught with unvoiced emotion. Then he was conscious of the smiling blonde who was observing them from just a few feet away. She had the same faintly predatory look that had raised a red flag in his mind when he had seen her before. But he had to admit that she was a good-looking broad all right, with the best pair of legs he had ever seen. And boobs that jutted out like ripe melons aching to be plucked. She must have fucked a thousand guys, he thought to himself. I'll bet she's one hellulva piece of ass.

He extended his hand to Trish, "I'm Peter Knight. I think we've met at French Leave."

Davie interjected excitedly. "Oh excuse me, Trish, Daddy, this is my friend, Trish Byers. She's stayed with you before. She's a stewardess with Pan Am."

He overlooked the innocent faux pas. "Yes, I recognize Miss Byers as one of our guests. Nice to see you again, Miss Byers."

"Daddy don't call her Miss Byers. That makes her feel old. She wants to be called Trish."

The blonde grinned with embarrassment, but she gave him a practiced provocative look.

"Can we give you a ride, Trish?" Peter Knight offered.

"Thank you, but I'm being met by my brother." She looked around then and a glint of recognition crossed her face as she caught sight of a shaggy haired youth who was leaning casually against a red MG convertible. Trish waved at the boy, who made no move to approach. When Knight turned around, he recognized the boy as a frequent visitor to the resort bar. He thought it strange that the youth did not come forward.

As though divining his thoughts, Trish quickly added, "Randy's very shy. But you'll meet him. Well, Davie, I'll see you later, OK?"

"Right, Trish. And thanks for everything."

The blonde winked at the school girl. "There's nothing to thank me for. That's what friends are all about."

CHAPTER TWO

Once they were settled in the sleek silver Porsche and heading down the road toward French Leave, Peter Knight and his daughter began to relax in each other's company a bit. There is something permissive and seductive about a Caribbean island, particularly one like Eleuthera, where the brilliant semi-tropical sun and the absence of pressure invite one to shed cares, clothing and convention. This was Peter Knight's home ground now, and he assumed the role of confident host and tour guide – though the principal charm of Eleuthera is the absence of commerce and people such commerce attracts. Indeed, French Leave is the only tourist attraction. There isn't much to "see" except the coral-studded sea and several miles of pristine, white coral sand dotted with lush tropical vegetation.

Davie couldn't get over the contrast between Eleuthera, where the temperature was 78 degrees and they passed only a few Bahamian natives along the road and an occasional car, and New York City, where the temperature had been a bone-chilling 27, and the thousands of faces that passed her were all uniformly gray and cheerless. She pulled off her sweater and slithered down in the black leather seat of her father's sports car, letting the warm island breeze blow her shining dark hair away from her face. She closed her eyes and let the hot sun beat on her smooth fair skin, feeling as though the weight of the world had been lifted from her young shoulders. Peter Knight stole a glance at his little girl, noting again how much of a woman she had become in three years. Her full ripe breasts strained against her prim white blouse. She had kicked off her shoes and socks and her bare legs were smooth and slender beneath her pleated shirt. He had to remind himself that Davie was no longer a child and he couldn't treat her as one now. He also had to remind himself that she was his daughter.

"Did you have a nice chat with Trish Byers?" he suddenly asked. Davie opened her eyes and looked at her father, "Oh yes, Daddy. She's so understanding. Really a nice woman. And so pretty, too. She's a dish!"

"Yes, Miss Byers is quite attractive. But I'm sure she knows that."

"She thinks you're quite something yourself."

"Ohhh?" Knight reacted with surprise, though he knew that the stewardess seemed to have the hots for him. But he felt she probably had the hots for most men; she seemed like the kind of woman who couldn't get enough cock. That's what he didn't like about her. He liked a woman who was more selective, who was harder to get. There was no challenge with a dame like Trish Byers – except to keep your pants up! Still, she could probably give a guy the fuck of his life. She was one hot cunt all right. As for her "brother", Peter didn't like tile cut of the kid's jib. He doubted that tile mop-haired youth really was her brother, though he might he. He didn't want his tender daughter mixed up with either of them, though he didn't know how to tell Davie that without arousing suspicion in her mind. Besides, the kid had had enough controls from her bitch mother. He wasn't about to start putting clamps on her the minute she arrived. He would see to it that every moment would be beautiful and memorable for Davie. He knew now that he wanted her with him always. He desperately hoped that she would want that too.

***

About a mile behind, a red MG was cruising along the two-lane road with its two blonde passengers. Randy Ferris sat behind the wheel of the sports car, his faded skin-tight jeans showing a huge bulge in the crotch where his rock-hard cock was straining to be free of its denim prison. It had grown to gargantuan proportions under the skillful and incessant manipulations of the blonde stewardess beside him. His brown hand was under her beige miniskirt and he was massaging the wet slit of her pussy with his middle finger.

"Geezus, baby, you're hot as a pistol. You must not have been gettin' it more than six times a day lately," he wisecracked.

"I've had a run of bummers, honey. Besides, you know how I feel about your prick, lover. There's just nobody who can do me like my li'l ol' baby brother."

"Yeah. But you keep tryin', don'tcha? I saw how you came on to Knight – and his kid. You'd like a taste of that stuff, wouldn't you?" Randy said, looking at her with a cocksure smirk on his lean, handsome face.

"You don't miss a trick, do you sweetie? That's why I feel so good with you. No games. No pretense. Just good, clean dirty sex – lots of sucking and fucking, the way I like it," Trish answered, rubbing her voluptuous breast against the youth's muscled arm.

"So what about the Knight kid? Have you gotten into her pussy yet?" Randy teased.

"Don't be silly. It's only a twenty minute flight!" the stewardess teased back.

"Baby, I wouldn't put anything past you – even on a twelve passenger plane in broad daylight!"

"She's going to take a little longer. She's been shut up in a convent school with a lot of dried up nuns and a faggotballing mother who's out to make damned sure she doesn't get her precious little cherry popped. No wonder her old man took off. Who could live with a bitch like that? I'll bet he's one helluva swordsman."

"That hasn't done you much good so far, baby," Randy jibed. "You might have to stand in line for that dude."

"You wouldn't want to lay money on that, would you, lovey?" Trish purred, giving him a devilish look.

Randy searched her face. Her lips were curled in a confident smirk. "G'wan," he said, "you don't think you're going to nag Knight and his sweet-assed daughter too!"

"That's exactly what I intend to do," Trish responded emphatically, squeezing the lips of her pussy tighter around her brother's finger. He was her half-brother, actually, the product of a marriage between her mother and step-father. She and Randy had been balling for three years, and he was a straight-A student in the sex education courses she gave him. They had a unique relationship. They both loved each other very much, and yet there was no jealousy between them. She urged Randy to get as much pussy as he could, knowing of course that she would always be first with him. And she delighted in recounting every detail of her encounters in bed with other men – and women. Trish was 29 (though she looked a couple of years younger) and she really had no intention of getting married. It would, unless she got a very exceptional man, put an end to her affair with her kid brother, as well as various other men and women of her acquaintance. She would never sacrifice that for a home and a meal ticket.

"Not only am I going to nail that dynamic duo, but being the generous and loving sister that I am, I'm going to see that you get a crack at that virginal little pussy as well. Would you like that, my love? Would you like to be first to split her hot little cunt with your big hard prick?"

"Are you kidding? Christ, would l! But you're out of your mind, Trish. Knight would have my balls on a spit if he ever found out. My balls – and yours, too!"

"Trust me, precious. Trust your sis. Have I ever let you down?" The youth shook his head. "I won't this time, either. Randy, I promise you I won't. Now finish me off, honey. Finger me off. I'm almost ready to cum!" And Trish scooted down further in the bucket seat, spread her smooth, sun-tanned legs further apart, opening the wet crack of her slippery cunt wider to her brother's skillful manipulations and closed her eyes, while he fingered her to a thrilling orgasm in the topless MG on the road to French Leave.

CHAPTER THREE

It was six o'clock. The sun was brilliant but low in the December sky as Trish and Randy settled down in the big bed in the attractive bungalow which Trish had rented at French Leave. They had both undressed immediately, Trish still eager for the loving only her brother could give her. Her climax in the MG had only made her more eager for love making, and she hungered for the youth's trim, sun-tanned body, for his young mouth and his mammoth cock. She never grew tired of making it with Randy. The incestuous nature of their affair made it more exciting for both of them.

For Randy, there was no woman who could hold a candle to Trish in bed – and he had taken her advice and fucked as many women as he could. There were chicks of all sizes and shapes, chicks of all ages. But Trish led the pack by a country mile. He surveyed her boldly. What a bod! She was lying wantonly on the bed, her long, tanned legs spread wide in a tantalizing pose, exposing the softly palpitating lips of her cunt to his prurient gaze. There were no patches of white to mar the even expanse of tawny shin; Trish sunbathed in the buff. Her firm, voluptuous breasts stood like matched mountains demanding conquest, their berry-sized crests already hard and quivering with anticipation.

They began to kiss, filling each other's mouths with their wet tongues. His hot hands were on her breasts, stroking them, pinching the nipples between his thumb and forefinger. She arched her back, offering him her luscious breasts to do with as he pleased. She was already moaning and squirming on the bed, her hand clutching her brother's stiff cock and reaching below to stroke his hairy balls. With the other hand, she caressed his rippling back flesh and tickled the back of his neck beneath his thick, shaggy blonde hair with the delicate tips of her brightly lacquered nails. Goosebumps rose on his flesh and he shivered involuntarily with pleasure as he bent down to take her pouting nipple into his mouth, sucking it gently at first, and then puffing a generous portion of warm flesh into his oral siphon.

"Oh God, baby! Oh Randy! Baby I've missed you so much. Let me suck your cock, baby. I'm starved for your cock. I'm thirsty for your cum."

The blonde youth's cock leapt into full hardness at her lascivious words; she never failed to make him rock-hard and compliant to her every demand in bed. Her wish was his command, and he got nothing but the fullest pleasure in return for his obeisance to his horny sister.

"Lie back, my baby, and let your ever-lovin' sis suck your sweet meat until your delicious hot cum scalds my lips and tongue and throat."

Randy wasted no time in doing as she asked. He turned over and lay on his back with his legs spread apart, anticipating the expert cock-sucking he was going to get from his beautiful sexpot sister. Trish was fantastic. She could almost fuck you off verbally, using all the right words to make a guy heat up until he could almost cum from being "talked off".

Trish kneeled between her brother's legs, letting her soft blonde hair cascade over her face to brush across Randy's jutting cock, which stood upright like a truncheon from his loins. He sucked in his breath as she waved her head back and forth across his man-meat and his muscled bronze thighs. Then she scooted forward, until her pneumatic breasts were cradling his prick in the hot cleavage, and she massaged his cock with the warm globes of flesh. This drove him crazy too. He loved every moment of the delicious agonizing pleasure, for the sperm was building up in his balls already, and he could hardly wait until her lips were fastened tightly around his cock and she was sucking his cum out as though it were a vanilla malt. He's meeting me at the airport. He works for the Pan Am radar installation on the island.

Trish drew back and took his cock in her hand. She began to stroke it gently, teasingly, letting her fingers trace delicate patterns down the length of his sex-flesh and around his straining balls. Randy could hardly stand it anymore. He groaned with pleasure as her taunting manipulations sent shivers of electric delight up and down his body. Then she lifted the heavy sac of his testicles and slid her finger beneath them, to toy with the puckered ring of his anus, driving him to even greater heights of anticipation. Finally he could wait no longer. Almost pleadingly, he cried out to her, "Oh Trish, baby. C'mon – suck it now. Suck it!"

"Yes, baby. Yes, darling. I'm going to suck it now. I'm going to put it in my mouth and suck and suck until you shoot that load of precious cum down my throat!" And she bent down immediately and fastened her soft, moist lips around his cock, kissing the blood-engorged head lightly at first, and then letting her tongue slide out between her lips to probe the tiny slit in his cockhead, drinking away the clear lubricating ooze that was to her as nectar is to a bee. She mewled and purred with delight as she savored the taste of her brother's cock juices on her taste buds. Randy fastened his hands in her hair and urged his pelvis upward, driving his cock deep into the warm grotto of her mouth.

Trish opened her jaws to give him free passage to fuck up inside her throat and then, like a Venus Fly Trap, she closed her coral lips over his hardness and gripped his cock tightly.

Her fiery tongue licked circles of molten lava along the underside of his shaft, and she began to suck him lovingly, eliciting groans of pleasure from the youth, who was writhing sensuously on the bed as she sucked him and stroked his burgeoning balls with her free hand.

Her sucking was accomplished and rhythmical now, as she confidently licked and sucked her brother's cock, knowing – as only the skillful female lover knows-that she would soon make him cum, and at the moment she wanted him to.

Randy lifted his head to watch her convoluted lips working hungrily on his cock. The sight of her sucking him never ceased to increase his arousal and his loins tense and jerked upward into her face, all the fleshy expanse disappearing with each forward thrust, except for a small stretch of it that glistened with her wet saliva.

Trish sucked wantonly, her mind consumed by her mouth's occupation. She felt she had been born for this; to make love, to give pleasure with her body and to receive it with her body. She flashed on the remembered image of Peter Knight standing so straight and dignified at the air field. She allowed herself to imagine that it was his cock she was sucking off. What a beautiful cock he must have, and how sweet his cum must be! She would taste it, all right. She would for damned sure! And as she thought of Peter Knight, she sucked her brother's cock with even more verve and determination, her breasts dancing wildly below her pumping head, bringing Randy closer and closer to his longed-for release.

"Suck it, suck it off!" Randy urged, as he dropped his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. For a moment, he pretended it was the tender lips and tongue of Davie Knight that were ministering to his carnal needs, that it was the pretty teenager who was sucking him off. Despite the square getup she was wearing, he had found her a super looking kid with good boobs and legs. There was something innocently sexy about her that she probably wasn't even aware of. She might be screwed up about sex with the kind of life she must have lived, hut he wasn't so sure. From his experience, those sheltered little schoolgirls usually turned out to be the wildest numbers on the block, once they had gotten laid. Geezus, it would really be a helluva hayride to get that tender young piece, shoot his boiling cum down her throat, into her sweet virgin cunt, maybe even her asshole… Trish just had to come through this time – he knew for sure now that he really wanted that Knight chick!

The impassioned blonde slaved over him, her body glistening from tiny droplets of sweat. The pressure was building in Randy's balls, she knew. She had sucked him off so many times since that first night when she crept into his bedroom and crawled under the sheet and placed his young cock into her mouth while he was still fast asleep. By the time he was fully awake, he was too far gone to protest, though he had been totally shocked to find his sister sucking him off. But there had been a growing attraction between them for a long time, and he had often jerked off at night, cumming into a wad of Kleenex while having fantasies about his older sister.

Randy forget about Davie Knight. He was consumed by thoughts of his impending orgasm, and of the hot-blooded female who was blowing him so beautifully, so perfectly, so much better than any other woman could do. Trish was the best, the absolute best at everything in bed – sucking, fucking, you name it. He drove his cock into her mouth harder and harder, pumping his loins against her face like a wild man until she gave a protesting mumble – which only spurred him to more frenzied bucking in his desire for the final release of semen in his scrotum.

And then…

"Ba-by… ohhh, baaa-byyy… I'm going to…"

The first fiery eruption of cum took place and he was seized with an epileptic trembling throughout his body as the torrent of white-hot fire shot through the length of his cock.

"… Cuuuuuuuuuuuummmm. Ahhhhhhgggghh! Suuuuuuuccckh meeeeeeee!"

"God, Sis, God," he groaned as he spewed his white-hot cum far back into her hungrily gulping throat and felt her finger slip another half-inch up into his tightly gripping asshole!

He was gasping, his lips were drawn back against his teeth and his brow was furrowed as though he were in agony. His prick began a sudden wild, convulsive jerking that flooded Trish's madly sucking mouth with torrent after torrent of burning semen, bloating her cheeks and forcing her to swallow desperately to keep from choking. She was crooning excitedly and ticking his testicles with the tips of her fingers as she continued to suck and swallow without letup.

Finally, with one last groan and convulsive shudder as the lovely blonde stewardess drank the juices of his passion, Randy spiked the final drops of his seed into her mouth.

Trish continued to nibble gently at the fleshy instrument long after Randy's body lay spent and motionless except for an occasional aftershock from his quaking orgasm. She always loved the way he came – powerfully, explosively, and his climax went on and on. With some guys, you'd never know they had crossed the finish line if you didn't have something to mop afterwards!

At last, when she knew she milked every last drop of semen from his balls for the time being, and when his rod began to lose some of its hardness, Trish crawled up and kissed her brother on the mouth. Randy threw a heavy arm over her and sighed a sigh of total fulfillment.

"That was… the greatest. The best," he said thickly. "Nobody does it as good as you. The best."

Trish smiled broadly. She agreed completely. "Rest a while, love. Then I'll give you a chance to nibble on my pussy. And if you do it well, if you really eat my pussy until you make me cum all over your wonderful mouth and tongue, then… then, maybe, I'll tell you just how you're going to get into little Davie Knight's sweet box!"

At these words, Randy suddenly found himself alert. His well-satisfied cock began to lurch into hardness again.

"Tell me!" he demanded.

"Patience, love. You might not be able to take it on an empty stomach," she teased.

Randy grinned. "Yeah, you're right. I think I'll have a bite to eat first." And with that he went straight to his task, licking and sucking his sister's pussy until she did indeed cum all over his mouth.

***

Peter Knight looked across the candlelit table at his daughter. He couldn't get over how much she had changed since he had left the luxurious condominium on Park Avenue and moved to the Bahamas. Davie had always been a pretty little girl, even as a youngster. But now! Now she grown into a real beauty. She was wearing a floor-length dress, a cotton print that was very girlish, and yet it delineated her trim waist and her generous young breasts in a most provocative way. Even her bare arms were lovely. Her large, hazel eyes glowed softly in the candlelight and seemed almost golden.

He was suddenly aware of the silence and the fact that he had been staring at his daughter. He cleared his throat. "How's school this year, darling?" he asked her in a somewhat forma tone. (School was the last thing on his mind, but it would get Davie to talking.)

She wrinkled her nose, closed her small fist and made a "thumbs down" gesture with her hand. "Terrible. The worst."

"You're keeping your grades up, aren't you?" he asked earnestly. (Davie was always a good student. Bright as hell.)

"Oh, sure… it's not that difficult – though the nuns throw as much at us as they can. The idle brain is the devil's workshop, don't you know! It's just that…"

"Just what, sweetheart? Tell me," he urged, reaching across the table and taking her hand in his.

"Oh, Daddy. It's a horrible place!" she blurted. "They treat us like children – or inmates! It's a prison. I absolutely hate it there. I always have."

"I never realized that, Davie. You don't say too much about it in your letters."

"I know I didn't want to worry you or anything. I wanted you to think I was happy… so you wouldn't feel bad about being so far away," she stated simply, as only an innocent can do.

Peter Knight was genuinely touched. This was his beloved daughter speaking, the one person in the whole world he really loved. She was his daughter, and she was expressing concern for his needs, for his welfare. He had left her and gone off, free as the wind, to pursue his dream.

God, he never realized how much he had failed her! He had thought of his own selfish needs, rationalizing that Davie would be better in New York with her mother and her school friends – something solid to depend upon. Sure, that was part of it. But he hadn't allowed himself to consider that maybe Davie would be happier with him. After all, what would he do with a teenage girl in the house? How could he have any action with a kid around?

He thought ruefully how little action he had had in the past three years. Guests were out, as a rule. Bad business. The help – likewise. Most of the women employees were married, and all were Bahamian blacks. He wasn't about to "go native" to that degree! So he usually hopped over to Nassau when he had to get laid. Those excursions were rarely rewarding. But then, how much can you say for a one night stand ever? He'd just as soon jerk oft as fuck a woman he didn't give a damn about. With Davie here before him now he realized how very much he did love her, and how much of a void there had been in his life – how much larger that void would be after she went back to New York.

Covering his thoughts with an understanding smile, he sorted the subject with another question. "And how's your mother, Davie?"

The lovely teen sighed heavily. "Mother is mother – as always." Then pausing, she admitted, "I hate her guts."

Knight was surprised by his daughter's frank and negative statement. "Now, honey, you know you don't mean that!" he protested.

"I know I do mean it, Daddy," she insisted, looking at him steadily with her innocent thick-lashed eyes. "She's a… a bitch! A cold, selfish bitch! Sometimes I wish – I know I shouldn't say this… Promise you won't tell – I wish she were dead!"

"Davie! Words like that are not very pretty coming from a young girl like yourself. Besides, your mother is your mother, and you know she loves you very much. She's trying to do what's best for you, darling."

Not for a moment did Peter Knight have the conviction off his words. He knew Francine was a bitch; knew she was cold and calculating. He did feel that she loved Davie – in her own way. But he also knew that his selfish society wife never really wanted to have a child, that she had always resented Davie – now, probably more than ever, since she was becoming a beautiful young woman and therefore, a threat! Damn! He was a rotten bastard himself for leaving his precious daughter with that – bitch!

"Do you call what's best having me raised by nurse-maids and housekeepers? Do you call what's best keeping boys away from me because she's afraid I might do something to spoil her reputation? She doesn't trust me, you know. Do you call what's best running around with airy little fairies; having them in the house all the time; sleeping with them?" Tears were beginning to well up in Davie's eyes. Her hand was trembling. "She does, you know. My mother sleeps with homosexuals! I've seen her!"

Peter Knight was shocked and outraged. He never expected to hear what came from the lips of his naive young daughter. Rage began to burn in his chest as he thought of Davie being sullied by witnessing her mother in bed – and with a faggot! It made him feel nauseous. "You… you saw your mother with a man?"

"Oh, I wouldn't call him that! And it wasn't just one – there were two of them…" she sobbed.

"What??? But… but I…" He was at a loss for words, unwilling to voice the question. He didn't have to.

"One day I came home early from school. I had just gotten the curse and had these terrible cramps, so I got to go home. The housekeeper was out. I was on the way to my room and I heard all these noises coming from Mother's bedroom; mostly men's voices, although there were other sounds, too. It was so strange… I couldn't imagine what was going on, but it all seemed kind of violent. So I tiptoed down the hall. The bedroom door was open, so I just sort of looked in."

She drew a deep breath. The tears were rolling down her cheeks and her young body was shaking with emotion. "There were these two fairies on the bed and they were… doing it, the way they do it… one behind the other one. And the one in front… well, there was my mother, lying on her back, and her head was between his legs – the one in front – and she was… she had his thing in her mouth and she was doing it to him with her mouth!"

"You saw that? You saw that? Oh my God! Oh my poor darling girl!" he said, rising from his chair and coming over to kneel beside her and hug her to his broad chest. He was almost as overcome with emotion as she was. She sobbed into his jacket and he stroked her silky hair, smelling again the clean, untainted fragrance of wild grasses newly mown. "Davie, my darling Davie, I'm so sorry, darling. So very, very sorry!" he said to her, the anguish apparent in his voice.

She went on, compelled to complete the gruesome story, which had lain on her chest like a millstone. She had kept her secret to herself, too ashamed to tell her friends. There was no one she could confide in, until now. "They didn't see me. The guys had their backs to the door. And my mother well, naturally she couldn't see anyone but that person. He's her decorator, Lewis. I didn't know the other one. I ran to my room and stayed there the rest of the day. Oh Daddy, it was so awful, so sick! And all this time, I can't even have a party at the house with boys! I can't go to a dance or a movie or anything unless there's a grownup along! Yet she sends me to this school, so she can say, 'My daughter goes to this very proper, very fashionable lah-dee-dah school for rich girls.' Hah! If she only knew what went on there!"

Now Peter Knight had another source of concern. "What are you taking about, Davie?"

"Daddy, you wouldn't believe it. Practically all the girls smoke dope, and some even push it! I've done it myself – smoked it a few times. They call you a square if you don't. And some of my friends drink. Are you shocked, Daddy, to find out that your little girl knows how to drink and smoke dope? I don't really dig it that much. But I have to go along with it. Otherwise I won't have any friends at all! But that's not the worst. There are other things you'd be shocked, Daddy, you really would be."

He was already as shocked as he ever expected to be. Now, her last statement had hinted of a thing he couldn't bear to face. Not his little girl. Not Davie. He gave her an incredulous and wounded look it conveyed his thoughts.

"Don't worry, Daddy I'm not talking about boys – although there's a lot of that with some of the girls. It's worse than that, in a way. Do you know what I'm taking about?"

One apprehension exited only to be followed close on the heels by another one. His mind was racing. He felt a terrible queasiness in the pit of his stomach.

"You don't mean…?" He couldn't say it.

"Slumber parties. I didn't want to go when I found out what was going on – what was expected of me. But they gave me a really hard time. Called me names and made fun of me. So I… finally had to go along. But I don't like myself for being weak. I guess in some ways, that makes me just about as rotten a person as my mother…"

"No, Davie, no!" he defended. His jaw was clenched but there was compassion in his eyes. Compassion, pain and great love. He blamed himself for his daughter's debasement. If only he had stayed in New York… if only he hadn't run away to the solace of an island paradise… But he knew all too well the futility of the "if only" game – and it was a game. Now his task was to rescue Davie from the sordid existence her mother had exposed her to. Curse that bitch! He would see to it that his precious daughter was freed from her mother's clutches if it was the last thing he did – even if it meant selling French Leave and moving to another part of the country… or to another part of the world!

But how? Davie was still a minor, and in her mother's custody. Yet he knew perfectly well that if she wanted to live with him no judge in the world would send a truant officer to drag her back to her mother. Still, Francine was vindictive – hadn't she kept Davie from seeing him for three long years? And she had money. Next to fear, money was The Great Persuader. She might hound him to the ends of the earth, just to make him suffer. What could he do that would keep Francine off his back and Davie in his life for as long as she wanted, until she was ready to go off on her own? He suddenly realized that he hadn't asked his daughter if she would, in fact, like to remain with him. Unless she did, his efforts would all be in vain.

He produced a handkerchief from his pocket and began to dab his daughter's eyes very gently. God, she was lovely. It sickened him afresh to recall the details of her mother's perverted display. What the hell had gone haywire with Francine? He always felt she preferred no sex to any kind of lovemaking at all! But then, that was with him. How could she have turned on to faggots at this stage in life!

"Davie… sweetheart," he said softly. "Tell me something. I want you to be completely honest, darling. Don't say anything you don't mean – not even to spare my feelings. I've got to know the absolute truth, OK?"

She looked at him so earnestly, so ingenuously that he was embarrassed at having asked for her honesty. "Sure, Daddy I'll level with you," she answered, managing a small but endearing smile.

"Darling, do you think you could be happy living with me – I mean, living with me for a long, long time; not just these next ten days?"

She broke into an excited smile and threw her arms around his neck, almost knocking him off balance as he kneeled on the floor. "Oh, Daddy, do you mean it? Can I stay with you, forever? Oh yes! Yes, I want to be with you, Daddy. I love you so much! You're the only person in the whole world I love. Don't send me back there, Daddy. Please, please don't make me go back!"

Peter Knight hugged his daughter tightly as he kissed her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks. Nothing in the world could have made him happier at that moment. "Don't worry, darling, I won't. It's all going to work out, Davie. Everything's going to be fine – just fine!"

She drew back from him, a quizzical look on her beautiful face. "That's funny…"

"Funny?" He was puzzled.

"Yeah. Trish said the same thing…"

CHAPTER FOUR

The day dawned predictably golden on the island of Eleuthera. Lavender fingers of light were reaching up into the sky when Randy Ferris cautiously opened the door of the bungalow he had shared with his sister the night before and made his way to the red MG parked down the road. He had to work today. But he would be back at French Leave tonight… in time to get acquainted with Davie Knight! Then, tomorrow… tomorrow would be the beginning of a glorious weekend and – if Trish knew what she was talking about – a glorious fuck with the delectable virgin schoolgirl! Hell, it just might be the beginning of a ten-day orgy with the kid! Trish's plan was risky – Knight was a tough nut to crack. But if she pulled it off (and if anyone could pull it off, she could) he'd be in cunt heaven in less than thirty-six hours!

His thoughts, and the delicious anticipation of the lay that lay in store for him – oh, please! – gave him a huge erection on the way to the car. Down, boy, he commanded the willful instrument, you'll get your chance to dance… in her pants!

In another part of the compound, Peter Knight awoke at his customary time: 5:30 A.M., sporting a huge erection. He had been dreaming, and his dreams were blurred but erotic. He had slept badly the night before, tortured by the remembrance of what Davie had told him about her mother and the shocking things that went on at school. But the sordid expose had also led his sexual fantasies as he lay awake tossing fitfully, his beleaguered mind giving him repetitive instant replays of the conversation with his darling daughter. In moments of surcease he was badgered with questions, and spent the rest of his insomniacal moments trying to devise a scheme for successfully keeping Davie at his side.

He tried to force the intruding fantasies from his mind, but they persisted maddeningly. His pulse quickened and his breathing became abbreviated. His mouth was dry and the tingling in his loins increased. Goddammit! he swore under his breath, what's the matter with me? I'm a civilized man, not an animal. I can't allow myself to get hot – not now. Not with Davie in the next room!

He looked across the room and beyond, to the enclosed lanai where his daughter lay asleep on the long, broad daybed that also served as a couch. It was customarily adorned with huge, floppy cushions and was a favorite place of his for reading or just having a drink and looking at the beach and sea. Now his lovely daughter adorned it. She had kicked off the light covers and was sprawled on her back, one arm above her head and the opposing knee drawn up to her waist, exposing the crotch of the pale blue nylon pajama panties that she wore under her sleeveless, shortie gown. Even at a distance of fifteen feet, Knight could see a few wisps of delicate dark pubic curls escaping from beneath the elastic band. The saucy mounds of Davie's firm, young breasts were well delineated by the supple fabric, too, and they rose and fell as she breathed rhythmically during her deep and innocent slumber.

He closed his eyes, trying to blink away the forbidden desire that engulfed him. No! I can't think such thoughts! She's a child, an innocent child. She's my daughter, for chrissakes! No!

He threw off the sheet and stumbled across the room, reaching for his shorts as he clumsily made his way to the bathroom. He turned the knob with a sweaty palm and darted in, closing the door softly behind him. He leaned against it, panting now, clutching his underwear in his hand. Sweat dripped from his brow and beaded in the crease at his waistline. He shook his head like a fighter who's been decked, trying to rid himself of his forbidden thoughts. God, he must be sick to think what he thought… his own daughter!

He gave a quiet moan and shakily raised his leg in an attempt to step into his shorts. But he fell against the shower door and had to steady himself. He reached inside and turned on the faucets. Then he tossed his shorts on the floor and got into the shower, his penis larger and harder than before. He had to have release.

Almost mindless with desire, Peter Knight planted his feet wide apart on the cool the of the shower stall floor and let the warm fountain of water cascade over his naked body as he took his granite-like cock in his hand and began to stroke the hot, petal-soft skin lightly. His other hand reached for his pendulous balls and cupped them. His mouth was open and his breathing was coarse and spastic.

Responding to the pleasure sensations that were building in his loins, he increased the tempo of his stroking and tightened his grip on his enormous prick. The head was purple with lust, and the veins bulged on the upthrust underside. Damn! It was a truncheon all right!

His balls grew taut, taking up the slack in his scrotum. His chest heaved as his breathing grew snore labored. He kept increasing the pace of his stroking. Faster and faster, harder and harder. God, it felt good. He was getting closer and closer.

The little devils of desire led lurid and forbidden fantasies to him as rapidly as he stroked his heated cock. They shoveled the fuel for his tortured fire of incestuous lust… faster and faster, harder and harder… until…

His body stiffened and his muscles tensed perceptibly. His bare feet gripped the tile floor as he gasped loudly. "Ahhhhharrrraaaannngghh!" he cried and shoved the back of his free fist into his mouth to muffle the sound that accompanied the release of semen from his balls. "Ooooohhhhh!" he cried again as the fiery load of cum escaped from the mouth of his glans in a creamy eruption of pent-up jism. He thought it would never stop. He threw his head back and swayed like a sapling in a strong wind until his balls gave out the last of their cargo and he was free to take his fist from between his teeth.

He braced himself against the back of the stall then, heaving a heavy sigh and allowing the descending jets of water to wash the last of his foamy cum down the drain. The handsome man was suddenly seized with a feeling of sadness. Sadness, longing, and anxiety. God, this is terrible! I can't allow myself to lose control like this. I can't allow those thoughts to overtake me. That would ruin everything for Davie and me. I've got to keep things under control! I've simply got to!

He grabbed a pair of swim trunks and hastily pulled them on. Then he went out of the bathroom and out of the house, jogging along the beach for over a mile. Afterwards, he plunged into the tepid water and swam far out to sea and back, asking the beneficent Caribbean to cleanse him of his unholy thoughts.

It was 7:40 by the time he got back, and Davie was up and dressed and preparing a simple breakfast of toast and dry cereal. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted into his nostril.

"Daddy, you're back!" she cried, running up to him and grabbing him around the neck in an uninhibited hug. She crushed her breasts against his chest and planted harmless kisses on his cheeks – harmless by intent, not by effect. The devils cackled within him, and he pulled away from her so abruptly he noted a momentary look of bewilderment on her fresh face.

"Good morning, sunshine. How did you sleep?" he asked cheerily.

"Super. Better than I can remember since the last time you tucked me in bed when I was a little girl," she beamed. "It's so peaceful here, so quiet and warm. No wonder you love it. So do I. I never want to leave this place, Daddy."

"I knew you'd love it, sweetheart." He noted the table with the food awaiting them. "My, doesn't that look attractive. And coffee, too. I didn't know you could cook."

"I can't, really. It doesn't take brains to put cereal in a bowl," she grinned.

"Sorry I don't have much food in the house, sweetie. I usually eat up at the big dining room. They have great, gargantuan spreads for all the meals. It's the one thing about French Leave your daddy can take total credit for. All the other attractions have been thoughtfully provided by Mother Nature."

Davie giggled. "You're just being modest, Daddy." She was relaxed and carefree and obviously very happy. He couldn't let her down. He wouldn't fail her this time…

She noticed that his cup was half empty. Without waiting for him to finish it, she got up and went to fetch the coffee pot, giving him an unrestricted view at her long, lean legs and her high molded buttocks that bounced ever so slightly as she gingerly walked over to the stove. When she turned around, he could see her sculptured young bosom standing proudly beneath the revealing pink and white striped seersucker shorts. She was an adorable little girl… his adorable little girl. But an evil voice inside his head piped up. "Who are you trying to kid, wiseguy? She's adorable, all right. But she sure as hell isn't a little girl! She's a young woman – a beautiful, sexy young woman… even if she is your daughter! Now what are you going to do about it?"

Davie was straightening things up around the house after her father left for the lodge when she heard a persistent knock on the door. She looked up at the kitchen wall clock. 9:30. I wonder who that could be, she thought.

It was Trish, in all her suntanned glory, wearing the briefest bikini Davie had ever seen and carrying a large straw tote bag. Her eyes were hidden under enormous glasses with smoky brown lenses. "Hi," she said cheerily, "remember me?"

"Hi, Trish!" Davie answered enthusiastically. "Gee, you're up early. You look smashing! Come on in."

"Well, where's that bikini you were telling me about? I thought you'd be down at the beaching getting toasted by this time," the blonde stewardess said through a full smile.

"It's only 9:30, Trish. I was just getting the place prepared for my absence!" Davie grinned back at her.

"It's perfect right now. Looks like you just had a cleaning service in. Let's go, huh? You've got a lot of sunning to do, you know. Right?"

"For sure! I won't be a minute," Davie said as she hurried into the other room to change.

They walked a long way along the beach, away from the resort. The white sand felt like sugar under Davie's feet. It was already quite warm. Trish had a lunch for the two of them packed in her tote bag. She explained that the resort provides them for its guests on advance notice, so people won't have to come back to the dining room at midday, if they don't wish to. And of course, she had no intention of breaking up her day with Davie by appearing in the dining room during lunch, where Peter Knight would see the two of them together and possibly take a dim view of the situation. Of course, she intended to justify any disapproval that might be forthcoming from that hard-to-get hunk of man – and then some! But by the time he found out, he would be in no position to protest!

Trish stole surreptitious glances at her young protege, noting with growing relish that Davie was even more promising than she anticipated. In her brief, crocheted bikini, the young girl was more enticing than ever, her firmly rounded breasts plumped like pillows in the low-cut bra top. Her skin was creamy and unmarred. It looked as soft as satin. Her young buttocks were two mounds of softly muscled flesh, and she had a trim, flat tummy and a perfect little navel that Trish wanted to stick her tongue into. Of course, that wasn't the only thing she wanted to stick her tongue in! She could imagine how sweet that little pussy must taste, how fragrant it would be. Her own pussy was beginning to twitch with desire, and she felt her clitoris swell and throb with perverted longing for the teenager. The hardest thing she would have to do that day would be play the lady, the sympathetic friend… to keep her hands off of Davie's body and her tongue out of Davie's cunt! Geezus, what a test!

They found a secluded spot about three quarters of a mile down the beach and spread their beach towels out on the warm sand. It was fairly hot by this time, and Trish wasted no time in stripping off her bikini, being as casual and offhanded about it as she could.

"I hope you don't mind, honey," she explained, "I just can't stand to wear these things when I don't have to. Besides, I'm the vain type – can't bear to have strap marks and patches of white."

"Sure, I know what you mean. Don't worry about it. You have a beautiful tan, Trish. I can't stand the way I look next to you. I feel like Snow White!"

"Well, then, join the club!" Trish coaxed. She said no more then but lay on her stomach with her face turned away, giving Davie a chance to decide on her own what to do. She smiled to herself when she heard the sounds of a bikini being removed. She had to walk on glass, now. Every word, every gesture had to be positioned just right.

It wasn't long before she stretched out a languid arm and reached into her tote bag, fumbling for something inside. She soon produced a large bottle of sun tan oil in an amber bottle. It had a French label. "Here," she said, reaching behind her back, "use this stuff. It's the best I've ever tried. It's got a tanning booster in it too, to turn you a golden brown."

Davie took the bottle. "Don't you want to put some on, Trish?"

"After you, honey," the stewardess offered.

"I'll put it on your back, if you'd like me to," Davie said innocently.

"Hey, that would be great." She still hadn't turned around to look at the young girl's naked body. She didn't dare just yet.

The teenager poured some of the liquid into her hand and placed it on the blonde woman's warm back. As she rubbed it around the expanse of flesh, she noticed her older friend beginning to squirm slightly on the beach towel. "Don't be afraid to use it generously, honey," the woman told her. "This island sun can be brutal, even in December."

Davie administered more of tile pleasant liquid to her friend's flesh, which glistened with it under the sun's glare. Finally, Trish asked her to stop.

"That's perfect. Thanks, honey. Now I'll do yours."

She rose up and turned on her elbow before Davie had a chance to lie down on her stomach. The young girl was somewhat embarrassed to see her older friend looking at her naked body – though she had certainly been naked with some of her friends at school. Perhaps the memory those occasions gave her more reason for embarrassment.

Quickly, Davie rolled over on her tummy, but not before her oversexed companion had taken in her ripe, luscious breasts with the small, pert nipples, and the soft pubic nest that marked the seat of her womanhood. Controlling herself for the next several hours would he as great a challenge as she faced in a long, long time.

Davie's skin was baby soft, and she had no excess fat anywhere, nor any blemishes. Trish began the application of sun tan oil in a detached, professional manner. But it wasn't long before her stroking became more studied and she was caressing the girl's flesh with her hand. If Davie noticed, she didn't react noticeably. She passively allowed the blonde to apply it on her long, well-shaped legs, and to the backs of her outstretched arms. Trish kneeled beside her and lightly pressed her bent leg next to Davie's body. The stewardess was afraid to breathe, lest her breathlessness give her away. Neither of them said much. Finally, she gave Davie a playful whack on the rump – wishing instead that she was kissing it with her lips and reaching between the ripe ass cheeks with her finger – and said, "You're all set, except for the front. I think you can get that yourself." She waited while Davie turned over, glancing quickly again at her beautiful young breasts. Then she handed her the bottle, accompanying the gesture with a warm smile, and got up.

Later, she pulled a couple of magazines out of the straw bag and handed one of them to Davie; the fashion magazine. Trish thumbed idly through the VIVA copy, knowing that the sexy photographs of naked men and women would arouse the teen's curiosity. It wasn't curiosity that was aroused in Trish – it was her cunt. Lying in the hot sun, reading the frank confessions from readers and the bold, permissive captions under the glossy photographs of good looking naked studs and their girlfriends, Trish found it impossible not to squeeze her thighs together so that the lips of her pussy created a satisfying friction on her throbbing, distended clit. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Davie stealing furtive glances at the sexy spreads as she pretended to be engrossed in photographs of stilted mannequins posing in high fashion getups that were much too sophisticated for her age group.

"Well… I'll be darned!" she said suddenly, as she turned to the feature spread. "He's a dead ringer for Randy!"

Davie leaned over with great interest. "Let me see," she demanded.

Trish started to show the young girl, then withdrew the magazine, pretending concern. "No, I really shouldn't show it to you. This rag is not the sort of thing for innocent young eyes like yours, Davie."

"Don't be silly. I've read VIVA lots of times. There's always an issue or two stashed in somebody's locker at school," she insisted. "I'm not a little girl, you know."

Trish looked at her warily. "Of course you're not, Davie. I didn't mean to offend you. I just thought that it might not be the proper thing to do… to show you. These photos leave nothing to the imagination," she said, giving Davie a warm and knowing smile.

"Why do you think the kids at school buy them!"

Both females laughed then as Trish opened the magazine again to the sexy shots. There was a photograph of a good looking young blonde man straddling a full breasted oriental girl with shimmering black hair down to her waist. He was feeding her grapes, and she had her tongue outstretched and her back arched in a most provocative way as he tantalized her with the dewy fruit. It was sexy as hell. The man's muscles were highlighted and his hard buttocks glistened like the hindquarters of a stallion.

"Isn't that amazing – if I didn't know better, I'd swear it was Randy!" Trish enthused. "You saw him at the air field yesterday. Don't you think my brother looks like this guy?"

"I didn't get a real good look, but I can see the resemblance," Davie agreed, studying the photograph carefully. She was stirred by the prurient picture. It set her imagination to work, which was the intention of the editors – as well as the crafty blonde lying next to her.

"Randy is a beautiful boy, even if he is my brother," Trish went on. "Perfect build. He's a very physical kind of guy. Always doing something athletic. He was a star on the game field at school." (And he's a star in the bedroom, too, she felt like saying… as you'll soon find out, my sweet young lamb!)

Trish flipped the page. More shots of the handsome young man and his Oriental chick. He was very well hung; a beautiful set of equipment. God, he really did look like Randy… right down to his cock and balls. Trish wanted to lick the page. She wanted to suck her brother's cock again. And she wanted to suck Davie Knight's beautiful pussy!

The sexy photographs were having the desired effect on the impressionable teenager. She felt a forbidden stirring of desire in her own loins as she devoured the blatant poses of the couple in various acts of pretend lovemaking. She had never been with a boy before – Mother had seen to that; though there were some close calls a couple of times. French kissing and feeling a boy's hand on her covered breast. But there had never been the right circumstances where she had the privacy and the freedom to "go all the way". Still, she had gotten very excited during those harmless encounters, feeling an embarrassing wetness in her panties and something in her vagina that made her want to have a boy's thing inside. Several of her girlfriends were no longer virgins, and she had gotten an earful about some of their sessions with boys. It had excited her very much. But she also felt afraid.

Her thoughts turned to her father. What is he like with a woman, she wondered. She substituted her father for the man in the photograph momentarily, but her thoughts produced a feeling of guilt and anxiety in her callow mind, and she quickly blanked them out.

Suddenly Trish asked her a question she didn't expect, "Have you ever made love, Davie?"

The young girl's face grew crimson and she hung her head. "No, I've never been with a guy," she answered quietly. Not with a guy! her guilty thoughts reminded her. Only with other females!

"You're kind of young, I guess," said Trish. "No rush… although I was about your age – maybe a year younger – when I did it the first time. I never realized anything could be so beautiful…"

"Was it really, Trish?" Davie asked eagerly. She was dying to hear more. Desire for forbidden fruit was building rapidly in her young body.

"Oh yes! So beautiful. Naturally, I was scared to death at first. But I was lucky… he was a few years older; about 19 or 20, I think. He'd already had a lot of experience, so he knew what I was going through in my head. He was very gentle."

"Didn't it hurt, Trish?" Davie inquired intently.

"Oh sure, at first. But then, pretty soon it felt so wonderful that the pain went away and it was nothing but rainbows and lollipops from then on."

"But how did you feel afterwards? I mean, didn't you feel guilty or anything? Weren't you afraid that he'd lose respect for you?"

"Honey, I guess I'm the type who doesn't let guilt trips spoil my fun. No, I can't honestly say that I felt any way except absolutely marvelous and eager to be with him again. But that's just me. Everybody has to march to his own drummer. My little drummer boy says, 'Come and get it!'"

Davie laughed. They both did. But her mind was churning with a thousand unresolved questions.

"Hey, don't mind me, Davie. I guess I really shouldn't be talking to you like this woman to woman," Trish apologized.

"No, Trish, you're mistaken. I need to talk to another woman; someone who's experienced and mature. I can't talk to my mother – no way! And my friends at school, well, they're a bunch of braggarts and gossips. You never know what to believe with them. Besides. I wasn't born yesterday!"

Trish gave her young friend a wry smile. "Sure, honey. I understand. You've got a friend in me, Davie – I hope you know that. So feel free to let it all hang out!"

CHAPTER FIVE

When Davie didn't appear in the dining room at lunch time, Peter Knight was seized with a strange feeling of apprehension, although he told himself it was probably unwarranted. The sexy blonde stewardess was also conspicuously absent, however, and a casual inquiry to Benny, his maitre d', informed him that Miss Byers had requested a picnic lunch for two. He decided to go in search of Davie. He just didn't feel right about his guileless daughter spending too much time with the older "friend", who was not to be trusted, in his opinion.

He walked down to the beach and shielded his eyes against the invading rays of light, looking to infinity in hotly directions. No sign of Davie or the sensual blonde. He went to the woman's bungalow and knocked politely. No answer. He tried the door, found it unlocked and went in. The room had been made up and was noticeably void of occupants. He left the bungalow and walked to the house. Again, no one. For some reason, his concern was mounting. He tried to tell himself that he was being an over protective old fuddy duddy, but the tension in his stomach grew. Finally he climbed in the Porsche and headed along one of the narrow dirt roads that paralleled the ribbon of white beach. He stopped periodically, idling the Porsche and walking through the low foliage on the dunes to scan the shimmering sand. Where the hell was Davie?

He was just about to climb hack into the Porsche and head back in the other direction when he caught sight of some movement in the bushes about 500 feet away. A female stood up – God! It was Trish Byers, naked as September morn!

Instinctively, he squatted down and tried to hide himself until she had resumed her supine position on the beach. She hadn't seen him. Christ! – that broad. He was certain Davie must he with her… lying under the sun with that scheming sexpot. Was she naked as well? He broke out in a sweat, remembering Davie's candid admission of the night before: "Slumber parties. I didn't want to go when I found out what was going on – what was expected of me. But they gave me a really hard time. Called me names and made fun of me. So I… I finally had to go along…"

No! Not my Davie! Not my precious little girl!

He turned off the ignition and left the Porsche in the middle of the road. Then he walked stealthily to the cluster of foliage behind the spot where Trish Byers had gone to the bathroom. It was a shallow depression in the verdant dune. A dark, wet island in the alabaster sand and a crumpled wet tissue provided confirmation. He avoided those and crept silently to the elevated ledge of the dune.

What he saw blew his mind completely and made his eyes pop and his jaw drop and his cock swell to hardness inside his crisp, tailored slacks! Davie was there, all right! His beautiful daughter was lying on her back on a bright striped beach towel and was totally naked! Her long, slim legs were spread apart and her arms were outstretched and her eyes were closed. Her incredibly beautiful young breasts stood upright from her chest, the rosy little nipples like delicate raspberries. He drank in the beauty of his daughter's flat abdomen and smooth, supple young thighs, marveling at the perfection of her body.

Next to her knelt the stewardess, her woman's body another marvel of enticing feminine pulchritude. Goddamn! She was the sexiest thing he had ever seen, he had to admit. Big jugs, perfect mounds of edible flesh whose nipples were large and hard as pencil erasers. Her hips were high and angular, flaring just below her slim waist, and the dark blonde pubic hair at the base of her smoothly rounded stomach glistened with reflected light from the sun as it was trapped in the dewy drops of perspiration that clung to the furry growth.

There was a salacious smile on the blonde's sophisticated face as she poured a dark oil into her hand and leaned over Davie. No! She wasn't going to put it on his daughter's tender, naked body!

Oh, yes she was! And she did – beginning with the child's lovely young throat and working her way across Davie's shapely shoulders and down her arms. There was something too Goddamned seductive about the way she was doing it – much too seductive. He wanted to shout at her, to get up and show himself and tell her to get lost. But he couldn't. His eyes were riveted to the scene that was enfolding below him. And his cock was rock-hard; confronting them now was out of the question.

He noticed an empty wine bottle next to a large straw hat. Damn the bitch – she's gotten Davie high! He knew all too well how fast wine goes to the head on a hot afternoon!

Davie stretched her body languorously, a controlled reaction to he disturbing sensations of pleasure that were coursing through her body. Despite a feeling that she was getting into something she shouldn't allow to happen, she couldn't help becoming excited by her older friend's tender application of warm oil on her body. She felt a little dizzy from the wine, and from the relentless sun. But it was so wonderful to lie here and feel those gentle, knowledgeable hands on her flesh. Trish was a wonderful friend, and so understanding… Talking to her was like talking to a therapist; she made no judgments, raised no eyebrows… not even when Davie confessed what had happened at those slumber parties. Every kind of lovemaking is beautiful, Trish had said, though there's nothing like a man. But pleasure is pleasure, and why (deny your body any of the wonderful experiences that are possible between two people…?

Lying under the island sun, so far away from the dreary and depressing life in New York City, Davie had to concede that what Trish said was probably right.

The lustful blonde's blue eyes widened as she placed her oil-laden palm on Davie's blossoming breasts and began to caress the tender flesh in slow, thoughtful circles. Her lips curled into a self-satisfied smile as the young nipples swelled to hardness under her ministrations. She used both her hands to massage the firm mounds of sensitive flesh, feeling her own cunt secreting the liquid of her desire in increasing flow. Trish was almost trembling from pent-up arousal as she continued stroking and massaging Davie's breasts gently, slowly… ever so gently and ever so slowly. She had promised herself that she would not touch the teenager – today – but Davie's accounting of her lesbian "slumber parties" was more than she could have hoped for. This kid has had her cunt eaten before, and she's licked a few pussies herself. But she's never been sucked by a pro like Trish Byers! she said to herself. This is going to be easier than I thought… God, oh God, this is going to be the sweetest little cunt I've ever had!

The voluptuous blonde eased her fingers off Davie's upthrust breasts and poured more oil into her hands. Then she resumed her caresses, allowing her hands to slide down and across the smooth, flat belly and over the sloping hips and down the sides of the excited girl's thighs and calves, pressing her fingers between each of Davie's toes and massaging her instep and arches.

Shit! Peter Knight swore silently, the hitch really knows her stuff. She's going to turn Davie on for sure! He agonized over the lascivious sight, wanting to interrupt and spare his lovely daughter the shameful experience of being seduced by the sex-mad stewardess. But Davie would die of embarrassment if she knew her loving father was spying on the two of them. That would really give her cause for shame! She just might decide she couldn't or didn't want to face him ever again, and he would swallow sand before he took that risk. It was horrifying, but he had no choice other than to lie low and pray to God he could get out of there without being discovered. But as for the blonde pervert – he'd fix her ass, all right!

Trish's hands were moving slowly up the dark-haired teenager's bare legs now and Davie's flesh shone with the generous coating of sun tan oil the stewie had applied.

"Doesn't it feel great, Davie?" she whispered to he naked teen. Her voice was ragged with sexual excitement.

"Yes… oh, yessss," Davie answered quietly. She squirmed on the towel a bit, so that her thighs were even further apart. "I know a man's hands would feel better, but, whatdya gonna do?" she said with feigned lightness. "There ain't nobody here but us chicks!"

Davie managed a weak smile.

The clever batch! Knight said to himself. She's not only out to seduce Davie, she wants to turn her onto men, too! I'll cut her tits off! Despite his anger and revulsion, he was becoming increasingly turned on himself, and it was all he could do to keep his own hand away from his aching cock. He couldn't understand it – ever since Davie had arrived he had found himself giving in to the animal in him, a lusting beast he had had, of necessity, to keep in a cage. Now the beast was roaring from its cave, and louder all the time. That Trish has got to be the hottest fuck around, he was thinking as she bent over his daughter and let her skillful hands roam wantonly on the young girl's flesh. I'll cut her tits off… but maybe I'll get a taste of them first!

The blonde was poised over Knight's daughter now, her face dangerously close to the sixteen year old's; her puffy, globular breasts only inches from the upthrust schoolgirl's. Wordlessly, she reached for Davie's hand and placed it on one of her fleshy, hanging mounds. Davie's eyes flew open momentarily and she found herself looking up into the smiling lips of the stewardess. "Don't worry, honey," the blonde vamp reassured her, "There's nothing wrong with it. I just want to make you feel good. That's what friends are for…"

She was unable to control herself any longer, so great was her desire for the tender pussy of her young initiate. Her own cunt was soaked with the juices of her lust. This was the moment she had so patiently waited for!

She leaned further towards tile young girl and touched her lips to Davie's half-open mouth, letting her pointed pink tongue flick across the warm softness. Davie moaned softly, knowing she shouldn't accept the other woman's mouth, but she was too filled with needs of her own to protest. The sun, the wine, the sexy photographs of the guy who looked like Randy and the frank conversation with Trish had all conspired to release her inhibitions and set her longing for experiences she had long had secret fantasies about. At that moment, she just wanted to cum… to feel that feeling like no other sensation in the world. And the perverted aspect of he association with a woman who was eleven years older than she stoked the fires of her confused desire. She didn't care whether it was wrong or not; she just wanted to keep feeling the wonderful sensations that surged throughout her body.

Her arm came up, encircling Trish's neck. Peter Knight nearly fainted. The blonde's tongue began to work insanely inside Davie's mouth as she let her hand slide down the aroused girl's body until it came to rest on the down pubic mound. She entwined her lacquered fingertips in the soft, dark hair and began to tickle the flesh beneath it. Davie's thighs parted further, giving the blonde seductress tacit permission to continue her manual exploration. Which she did.

She parted the soft, wet labia and pressed a long finger gently into the sticky cuntal crevice, causing Davie's clitoris to throb so hard that Trish could feel the little pulse, like the heartbeat of a frightened bird, against her excited slit. She pressed her full-blown breasts into Davie's and ground them around and around, thrilling to the delicious contact of breast on breast, and nipple against nipple. She pushed her finger into Davie's vagina, and the girl let out an involuntary gasp.

But she wasn't going to spot things for Randy. She had promised him a cherry, and that's what he would get. She wanted a taste of the pie!

Trash left the girl's mouth and began to kiss the turgid, swollen areolas of her sweetly tender breasts, evoking more gasps of excitement from Davie. Then she scooted away slightly and threw her leg over Davie's hips so that she was straddling the breathless teen. Their pussies came in contact, and Trish began to rock back and forth, her own cunt a volcano of desire. She let out a few moans of her own, but she was bent on sucking that luscious little slit and not even the fiery sensations produced by pussy-to-pussy contact could stay her from her intended task. She could wait no longer.

Sliding backwards along Davie's thighs, she bent down over the girl's oil-and-sweat slickened body and flicked her tongue into the small crater of flesh that punctuated her abdomen. The dark-haired beauty gasped.

"What a lovely little navel you have, Davie!" Trish said between pants. "Tasty. Very tasty."

The young girl's hips began to undulate more freely on the towel. Soooo nice… Oh, how good it feels. So what if it's wrong…? and maybe it isn't alter all. It just feels sooooo good. I can't stop it… I need to cum so much… Davie was dazedly thinking.

Peter Knight had some pretty dazed thoughts of his own. Oh, Davie, my dearest darling girl… what's happening to you? Why are you letting it happen, sweetheart? It's wrong, what she's doing to you. You shouldn't let a woman do that to your beautiful little body – that's a man's job…

He was suddenly brought up short, realizing what he had just thought. Good God, he was mentally advocating sexual relations between his beloved daughter and a man! He didn't mean that. He couldn't mean that. She was too young. It was too soon for her to know the pleasure a man could give her. Yet, she knew what pleasure a woman could bring. Wasn't that worse? Yes, that was perverted! Did he really want Davie to continue her sexual experimentation with the opposite sex, though? Hell, no! So what was she supposed to do… nothing? It was a little late for that.

Peter Knight was racked with confusion and torment – much of it coming from his gonads. He couldn't deny that he was excited beyond belief by the obscene spectacle between these two outstanding females, both with incredible bodies. But one of them was his own daughter. If he had a shred of decency, he would turn away from the sight… hell, he would have gone out the way he came in; like a guerrilla scout in enemy territory – very, very quietly, and very, very fast! But he couldn't not look. He had to watch, though he had a case of lover's nuts that would break the Guinness Book of Records!

Trish's head hovered over the young girl's silky pubic mound and her hot breath fanned the glistening curls that framed the rosy lips of the teenage cunt. Her hands followed, moving from Davie's breasts down her belly and coming to rest on her marble flanks. She used her thumbs to gently part the trembling cunt lips, exposing Davie's clitoral button to her wanton gaze. "What a beautiful little pussy you have, honey. Oh, what a darling cunt!" Trish enthused, pausing for a moment to peer into the delicate folds of tissue she hungered for. It was sweet torment, this delay. But she was suddenly seized with unabridged desire and, without further ceremony, buried her face into Davie's succulent cunt and began to plant fervent kisses on the delicious flesh. Her tongue was a hot poker as she squirmed lower on the sand to position herself most effectively for the sucking feast she had begun.

Trish's tongue came in contact with the moist, hot clitoral bud and she began to circle it tauntingly. In a reflex movement, her breath escaping from between her teeth and her body consumed with raging desire, Davie reached for the stewie's head and entwined her fingers in the blonde tresses of her wanton seductress. Trish let her hands slide upward again over the soft belly to Davie's firm breasts, cupping and squeezing them greedily while she continued her oral assault on the young girl's nether parts with her mouth and tongue.

"If Daddy could see her now!" Trish mused inwardly as she relished the taste of Davie Knight's young cunt. She derived a spiteful satisfaction from her prurient act, as well as a deeply pleasurable one. Peter Knight was the one man she hadn't been able to fuck – as yet. He had to play hard-to-get, with his formal, untouchable demeanor, as though his cock was too good for the average woman. Most likely, it was! But she was no average woman! And she intended to make damned sure he found that out! Before she got through with him, he'd be begging to tuck her pussy…

She took Davie's throbbing clit between her teeth and nipped it gently while she ran her tongue around the heated little orb in concentric circles. Davie cried out and tightened her grip on the blonde's head as she writhed and bucked on the beach towel from the waves of agonizing pleasure being transmitted through her flesh. Her head was flailing from side to side in total abandonment to the obscene act of tongue-fucking that was being perpetrated on her by the sexy, older woman.

Trish opened her mouth still wider, moving her tongue downward along the smooth furrow of the teen's slippery slit, wanting to devour Davie's pussy; wanting to swallow it whole. She began to tongue fuck her then, reaching as far into the secret hole of Davie's maiden vagina as she could, delighting in the whimpering mewls of pleasure she was evoking in the willing girl. If this was any indication of Davie's capacity for turning on – and it certainly was – Randy would have smooth sailing right up into her little channel! Really – there would be plenty to go around for both of them!

Davie writhed and moaned from the incessant lickings and probings into her moist, hot depths. The passion was mounting in her steadily, and she knew she was very close to orgasm, very close to cumming right on her friend's mouth! Maybe it was "dirty"… but it sure felt incredibly good.

"Ooooh, Jesus, you're licking my pussy into cumming!" the young girl groaned as the naked stewardess fucked her tongue lizard-like up into the hungrily gripping walls of her cunt!

She was straining and twisting on the towel and she couldn't keep herself from verbalizing her desires. "Ohh, ooooh, Trish, you're driving me crazy. It feels so good, so exciting when you lick me that way. Suck it… ohhhh suck iiiiittttt…"

And the stewardess obliged, her tongue becoming a slimy piston as it drove in and out of the teen's hot, clasping vagina. Davie was more than she had expected – much more! She was so hot herself that she couldn't keep her fingers out of her own cunt, and she substituted the thumb of one hand for the thumb and forefinger of the other to keep Davie's cunt lips apart while she reached down and made digital contact with her own fiery pussy, stroking her clit very rapidly, the heat of impending orgasm roaring like an inferno through her flesh as she desperately sought her own release.

It wouldn't be long now, for either of them.

And Peter Knight knew that, as he continued to watch the entire erotic display from his sheltered hiding place among the dense, bushy growth. His balls were close to bursting. The pain was excruciating. Never in his life had he seen anything to equal the excitement generated by those two beautiful women on the beach. Yes – two women. For he knew he couldn't pretend Davie was a little girl any longer. She was very young, yes. But she had a woman's body and a woman's sexual responses. How could he bear to have her live with him as his little girl when he was witnessing her as a young and desirable – and desired – woman? Daughter or not, a female, particularly one like Davie, would drive him out of his mind. That was a thing he couldn't cope with. The alternative to a filial relationship with Davie was too unnatural to even consider for a moment. And yet, he a ready had considered it, in his fantasies. Oh God, why did she have to come to French Leave at all! It might have been better for both of them if she had simply stayed in New York…

His pretty daughter's cries of animal pleasure were becoming louder and louder as the young woman continued to swirl and flick her tongue around the velvet depths of Davie's pulsating vagina. Her firm buttocks jerked and spasmed beneath the plunging tongue of the expert cunt sucker. She was going to cum soon; the feeling was building and building…

Trish, her own brain a bubbling cauldron of lust, flailed her finger faster and faster against her throbbing clitoris as she feverishly plunged her tongue in and out of her young friend's pussy. Davie writhed and squirmed beneath the insane licking and sucking until she thought she would scream from sheer ecstasy. Every muscle in her body was tensed, and her long, sable-colored hair swept the towel as she flailed her head wildly from side to side. She ground her crotch up into the blonde's lusting face as the waves of rapture began to rise, then gather, then crest until…

"Oooooh… oooooohhhh… I'm… c-uuuuu-mmmm-iiiii-nnnng!" she shouted through the hoarse gasps of pleasure. She broke out in gooseflesh and rocked crazily on the beachtowel, her whole body a mass of frayed electric cords that sent sizzling surges of ecstasy through her. She drew the blonde head into her loins with all her might. Her cunt juices inundated the stewie's face and tongue, flowing down along the crease of Davie's trembling buttocks and pooling beneath her rectum on the towel. Again and again she screamed out her delirium, and again and again the invading tongue and lips brought her continued thrills. A second later, Trish was screaming out her own orgasm and undulating on the fine-grained sand, creating a human foxhole with her voluptuous, climaxing body. Her oscillating finger sent wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure through her body.

Peter Knight breathed into his hand to stifle the sound of his own heated breathing, though the two climaxing females on the beach below were hardly alert to sounds other than each other's cries. He felt heartsick at what he had witnessed, but it was also the most unbearably exciting spectacle he had ever witnessed. He suddenly remembered how Francine had liked for him to go down on her. It was the one thing sexual she did like, the bitch. And it was the one thing Davie and her mother had in common, he thought ruefully. Then the devil voice spoke again in his head: "Shrewd observation, Dr. Watson. Now, what are you going to do about it…?"

He forced himself to lie perfectly quiet until the girls dashed to the water for a swim. Then he backed down the dune and headed for the Porsche, his mind a blur and his balls a bloated bag of thwarted desire that screamed for merciful release.

CHAPTER SIX

Peter Knight hurried into his beach house and locked the door behind him. He was sweating, and his temples throbbed. The ache in his groin reminded him constantly of his manhood. The devils were dancing in his head, playing cruel tricks on him, evoking wicked, disjointed thoughts in his mind. He had to rest, to sleep, to get back his equilibrium before Davie came home…

He ripped off his clothes and flung them onto a chair. He fell into bed, wincing as his hard, erect cock thudded on the mattress. He had some unfinished business down there… he couldn't stand the agony any longer.

Grabbing his long, beefy pole in his hand, he once more stroked his enraged organ hotly until he came all over the bedsheet. It was only a matter of seconds. Exhausted then, he knew he should get up and wash, but his body refused to budge, and he fell fast asleep without remembering the need to cover himself.

When Davie got home a couple of hours later, she was surprised to find the door locked. She figured she must have done it without realizing it. No problem. She remembered the door to the lanai – that would be open for sure.

She wanted to shower and change and wash the salt water out of her hair before she appeared at the lodge to see her father. Perhaps she wanted to wash the scent of sex and another female body away, too… The hours she had spent with Trish were beginning to bother her. She wasn't dazed with wine any more, and the reality of what she had participated in with the blonde stewardess was beginning to weigh heavily on her conscience. Oh God, what's happening to me? I'm not a lesbian… I don't want to do it with girls! I couldn't help myself, it felt so good. But it's wrong. It's not the way I want things to be.

She opened the lanai door and stepped inside, a worried expression on her young face. She could feel the first tautness that follows overexposure to the sun, and she knew she had lain on the beach too long for the first day. Yes… she had lain too long on the beach for a lot of reasons…

She turned toward the small chest of drawers that held her clothing. An unexpected groan caused her to look in the direction of her father's bedroom. From where she was standing, she could see only his head and his bare torso. He was sleeping heavily, his mouth open and emitting soft but coarse sounds that bordered on snoring. Davie smiled as she watched her father reposing on the big bed. She looked over at him with pride, thinking how peaceful he seemed, how handsome he was. His chest was broad and hairy; his muscles were well developed. He was a very masculine man.

She thought she could get her things and tiptoe quietly past him without awakening him, so she gathered her shampoo and creme rinse and took another long dress out of the drawer and stepped through the doorway into his bedroom.

An involuntary gasp escaped the young girl's throat as she found herself looking at her father's totally nude, sleeping form. There he was, sprawled on his back, his muscular legs spread apart, exposing the full sight of his genitals to his daughter's widening eyes. His flaccid penis was cradled in the hairy hammock of his enormous testicles. Daddy's penis was huge! Davie was hypnotized by the sight of her father's massive prick and his plump, hirsute testicles.

It's so big! How could any woman possibly have a thing that big inside of her? It would tear her to pieces! It must be over ten inches long when it's… when it's hard it's twice the size of those models' in VIVA magazine! And theirs were pretty big…

Davie felt a sudden dryness in her mouth and throat as she stared at the naked, powerful body on the bed. She knew she couldn't continue to stand there gaping at him. And she didn't dare take a shower for fear of waking him up. He'd know she had seen him. So she carefully tiptoed back to the lanai, replaced the clothing in the drawer and went out the door. She hurried to the lodge and used the phone to call him up.

"Y-yes…" a groggy voice answered.

"Hi, Daddy," she said brightly, "it's your sun-baked daughter. I think I'm about medium rare."

"Davie! Where are you, sweetheart?" he asked, sitting up. He was suddenly springing to alertness.

"Sheboygan, Wisconsin. Really, Daddy," she teased, "where do you think I am? I'm at the reception desk."

He had difficulty marshaling his reason. All he could think of was Davie being eaten by that vixen, Trish. "Well, eh, what are you doing there, darling? I thought you were… on the beach."

"I was. Now I'm here. I came to look for you because the door's locked, so I figured you were at the lodge. Daddy, are you all right? I mean, this conversation is ridiculous!" She said it with mock reproach, then followed it with one of her girlish giggles.

"You're right, darling. It is. I didn't realize how heavily I slept. Still trying to clear the cobwebs out of the attic. Why don't you come along to the house?"

"Thanks, Daddy. I'm dying to take a shower. Bye." And she hung up, leaving Peter Knight with a dial tone and a glazed expression on his face.

Moments later he was covering the telltale stain on the sheet with another sheet, then dashing to the door to unlock it, then scampering into the shower for a necessary cleansing. By the time Davie reached the house, he was out of the shower and half-dressed.

Davie was suspiciously cheerful, it seemed to him. Of course, he knew what had happened between her and Trish Byers and he suspected – and hoped – that his winsome offspring was feeling guilty about the whole perverted episode. He was bothered as hell himself, and couldn't look her squarely in the face, but he also couldn't take his eyes off her nubile bikini-clad body.

She acted awkward and embarrassed, and he thought wistfully to himself what a sad thing is the loss of innocence. He blamed himself once more for what happened on the beach. He should have been there, to save Davie from the sexual clutches of that rapacious female! Why was he never there when she needed him? If he had stayed with her in New York, none of this would have happened. But then, he didn't. All he cold do now was make damned sure nothing like that ever happened to her again.

When she had showered and dressed in a most becoming long dress, Davie joined her father in the living room. He was having a drink, and offered her a Coke on the rocks, which she smilingly accepted.

"Tell me about your day," he began. "Did you enjoy the beach?"

"Very much. It's so beautiful. I've never seen such white sand. And the water is glorious. You can see all kinds of fish as plain as anything. Like looking through a tinted window. I saw this one mean looking fish with a lot of teeth. Trish said she thought it might be a barracuda, so we got out of the water fast!"

"Trish? You went swimming with her, eh?" he asked, eyeing his daughter carefully for giveaway expressions. But Davie was artfully cool. That disturbed him, too.

"Oh yes. She came by this morning with a super lunch for the two of us – you have the best food here, Daddy. We walked way down the beach, found a spot and just roasted ourselves all day. Of course, Trish could take it. She does it all the time – sunbathing, you know. That's why she has such a beautiful color. Look at me, I look like a half cooked lobster!" She giggled at herself again, and Peter Knight returned the grin. But inwardly he was agonizing. He couldn't blot the image of his naked daughter on her back with her pussy in the blonde's face from his mind. He couldn't shut out her cries as she lay there cumming, brought to the peak of pleasure by that sex-starved woman who had acted as Davie's… lover! Trish was a dangerous influence on the impressionable Davie. If she spent too much time alone with Trish, she might become as venal as the stewardess. The bitch would have Davie in a gang bang with all the guests at French Leave looking on. Christ, what a thought! No, Davie was still pure, she was still innocent. She didn't know what the hell she was doing today, or at school. They forced it on her. Davie needed a man to straighten her out. Her soft, young body, her lips, her ripe breasts and her beautiful pussy cried for a man's caresses… a man's body to complement hers… a man's cock to fill her precious little cunt…

My God, what I am thinking! it suddenly occurred to him. I'm thinking of Davie as though I were her lover! As though she needed that! She only belongs to me spiritually… that's the only way I can have her. That's the only way that's right between a father and daughter. Any other way is sick, degenerate… as degenerate as what Trish did to her today.

"Daddy, is anything wrong?" Davie suddenly asked him. He had been lost in thought for several moments. He found himself staring vacantly into his scotch glass. When he looked up at Davie, her eyes expressed concern.

"Sorry, honey I'm still half asleep, I guess." He smiled at her reassuringly. "Let's go have dinner at the lodge. I really should be on hand most of the time."

A yachting party arrived during the dinner hour and Peter Knight had to leave his daughter alone for several minutes, during which time Trish Byers and her brother appeared in the dining room and got in line for the sumptuous buffet spread. By the time the resort owner returned, Trish and Randy had joined their table, a thing which did not please Peter Knight in the least.

"Good evening, Miss Byers, Randy," he said politely, offering a curt smile.

"I'd be so pleased if you called me Trish," the seductive blonde told him, giving him a flashing smile. She looked stunning in a low-cut white cotton dress that did little to hide her feminine assets. Her feet were shod in the barest of high-heeled sandals, making her long beautiful legs seem even longer. Her tan was deep and golden against the electric whiteness of her dress. She oozed sensuality from every pore. He was seething inside and he wanted to slap her half way across tile dining room. He hated everything about her, except her face and her voice and her body… He was caught in a repulsion-attraction syndrome – his reason repelled, but his being drawn to her like a magnet.

Davie's thigh accidentally brushed against Randy's and she moved hers away hastily, but not before the contact had produced a tiny electrical charge in her loins. She couldn't help thinking of the pictures in VIVA, and now that he was seated next to her at the dining table, she found herself comparing him more and more to the guy in the photograph. She speculated on the size of his penis, and wondered if it resembled the man's in the magazine or that of her father. What would Randy be like? What would it feel like to have his thing inside me? He's very sexy, just like his sister, with those bedroom blue eyes and all that soft blond hair. He does have a fantastic build…

The young girl felt her face flush. It was already hot from the hours of harsh sun. She couldn't look at Randy directly; there was something about him that both frightened and intrigued her. He didn't talk much, and seemed very shy himself. But she couldn't suppress a little shudder when she thought again of his resemblance to the man in the photographs.

They lingered over dinner, with Knight having to excuse himself at intervals to attend to one kind of business or another. During his absences, Trish focused her attention on Davie, giving her enigmatic looks across the table. At other moments, she did the same thing to her brother. Davie felt there was something peculiar in their relationship. Sometimes she seemed to be flirting with him! Once or twice, Randy looked down at Davie from under his sleepy eyelids and she found herself melting inside. And the liquid warmth manifested itself in her panties! When Randy asked her if she'd like to go for a walk after dinner, she readily agreed. Peter Knight had other ideas.

"I think it's getting close to your bedtime, young lady," he said, in a very paternal way. To his surprise, Davie was angered.

"Really, Daddy! I'm not a child. Besides, it's not that late. I'm not a baby!" she said, her voice tight and her eyes sparkling with indignation.

"She's right, Peter," Trish added without solicitation. He gave her a chilling look. "I'll make that decision, if it's all right with you," he said to her levelly. "Randy, why don't you escort Davie to the house. I'll be along shortly."

"Sure. My pleasure, Mr. Knight," Randy said, rising to his feet. Davie got up, too, and left the table without another word to her father. She was embarrassed to tears, as only a sixteen year old girl can be.

Her anger, fanned by guilt and the confusion that resulted from her turmoil and frustration brought sudden and unexpected tears to her eyes as the two youngsters walked out into the refreshing night air. "Why did he have to say that? He was talking to me like I was some kind of two year old moron. He sounded just like my mother!" she protested hotly.

Randy put a comforting arm around her shoulder. "Don't take it so hard, Davie. Your old man's just looking out for your interest, that's all. He doesn't want his little girl out with a big, bad wolf like Randy Ferris!" (And with good reason, he added silently.)

She had to smile. She looked up at him and he gave her an endearing grin. She thought he had the sexiest eyes she had ever seen.

They walked slowly on, and she began to feel more relaxed in his company. He really was a nice boy. He was as understanding as Trish…

They laughed a lot. He wasn't nearly as shy as she thought he was. Maybe he was only shy in a crowd. At one point he casually took her hand and she felt another surge of excitement go through her. Every now and then, their bodies would brush against one another. The air was cool and fragrant. Crickets chirruped and the sea gently slapped the shore. Davie felt warm and contented to be with this understanding, masculine boy…

In another part of the compound, Peter Knight was declining an invitation to "come in for a nightcap". "Thank you, Trish, but I'd better get home."

"Why so soon? Afraid the boogie man is going to get your darling daughter?" she taunted.

"Look," he said through clenched teeth, "my daughter is none of your Goddamned business! And as far as that goes, I'd be ever so grateful if you left her the hell alone! A girl like Davie doesn't need a woman like you as a friend!" He hadn't intended to loose his cool – Trish Byers was a guest, though she wouldn't be a guest ever again! Still, he prided himself on self-control; on maintaining an unruffled, professional posture with both guests and help alike. He didn't want to show his hand; the bitch just might tell Davie that her father had seen them making love!

Trish felt her own anger bob. "How would you know?" she railed back at him. "You haven't even seen her for three years! It just so happens, Mr. Big, that Davie does need my friendship. Who else is she going to talk woman to woman – YOU? Yes, I suppose she could…"

That hit home. She had slashed at his manhood, and any residual control that he had fled with the wafting island breeze. He reached past her, opened the door and thrust her roughly inside. The light from the moon illuminated the room enough so that he could see her striking features clearly. He looked at her bright, sensuous mouth, remembering vividly that it was the mouth that kissed Davie, that licked and sucked her tender breasts, that ate her teenage pussy…

He grabbed both her arms and held her in a viselike grip. He looked at her long and hard. Her face was close to his as he breathed the words out through his rigid jaw.

"You know what you are? You're a vile, low-class scheming bitch! Worse than that – you're a cunt a real cunt!" (God, how he wanted to fuck her. He wanted to tear her apart with his cock. He never wanted to fuck a woman more in his life than he wanted to fuck this big-titted, sexy blonde bitch!)

"Flattery will get you nowhere!" she snarled back at him, her lips curled in a defiant pout.

"I don't want to get anywhere, cunt!" he growled back through clenched teeth. "I wouldn't fuck you with a ten foot pole!"

"Braggart! You'd touch me with any kind of a pole – if you had one. But obviously, you don't…" She had him now, and she knew it. Peter Knight smarted visibly from the gauntlet she had flung so cruelly across his face. If that assault on his masculinity didn't get him to drop his pants, nothing would. She looked up at him with disdain in her big, blue eyes. She smiled a mocking little smile with dewy, half-parted lips.

He could feel her hot breath on his flushed cheek, scalding him like oil from a boiling cauldron. Her bare knee touched his trousered leg, searing his flesh through the sharkskin. Oh Geezus, he had to fuck her! He didn't care about Davie being home alone; he didn't care whether the blonde bitch was a guest, or that he hated her guts; he didn't care about anything! He only knew that the cum in his balls was being boiled to a broth. He had to put the meat to this pagan, she-devil cunt standing so tauntingly before him, had to teach her a lesson she would never forget… with a fucking she would never forget! When he got through with her, she would crawl back to Nassau!

He was dimly, very dimly aware that later, when it was all over, there would be remorse and self-loathing. But at that moment, nothing else mattered except funding the shit out of the soft, warm, musky-smelling evil woman who was only inches away from his throbbing, granite-hard ten inch cock…

Without another word, he pulled her to his body and kissed her brutally on the mouth, pressing his teeth into her yielding lips and forcing his tongue into her oral cavity. He tongued her mouth, and she answered with hot caresses from her oral member. Suddenly, he bit it – hard, causing her to cry out in a gagged scream of pain. He relished her agony. Then he bit her lip, drawing a warm, salty trickle of blood from the petal-soft flesh. Trish began to fight him, pummeling him with her fists to try and push him away. But he was a pillar of stone, and she, with her 120 pounds of female flesh, was hardly a match for the enraged resort owner.

Peter reached behind her and unzipped the pristine white dress with one deft yank of the zipper, drawing her in tightly to his loins as he did, forcing his truncheon-like cock against her pubic bone as hard as he could; grinding it into her in a way he knew was bruising. Trish struggled against him, a look of fear and pain contorting her lovely features. She saw the look of a madman, the frenzy of the rapist in his blazing hazel eyes. Still, it excited her. She had wanted this man for so long; she never figured him to show the balls he was showing. Of course, she had goaded him into it; but she had expected to call the shots. He was definitely out of her control. What was he going to do?

"You bitch… you cunt… you frigging whore…" he kept muttering over and over under his breath, as he reached up under her dress and grabbed the sheer nylon panties she wore and ripped them down over her satin hips, leaving them around her thighs like a ragged tourniquet. She gasped under his harsh stripping as his clawing hands left angry red tracks in her sun bronzed flesh. Then he shoved his middle finger into her hotly steaming vagina, and she bucked from the suddenness of his harsh and abrupt entry, even though her pussy was a cauldron of desire, and the juices of lust lubricated her cuntal passage.

She started to groan as he finger fucked her deeply and she swayed on her feet, her eyes closed. Seeing her reaction, he abruptly withdrew his hand and wiped his finger across her supple mouth, saying, "Here, slut, eat this! You like the taste of pussy, I'll bet; take it. Lick it!" He worked his finger into her mouth as though it were a cock, and slid it back and forth between her lips and around the inside of her cheeks. His other hand was up under her dress, pinching her ripely curved ass-cheeks as hard as he could.

Trish wanted to bite his finger, but she was afraid of what he would do. This man was capable of anything now, she realized. God knows what he might do to her if she retaliated. Besides, she liked the taste of her pussy; it was a taste similar to the sweet, aromatic pussy of Peter's teenage daughter. Hah! If only the bastard knew!

Yesss… that was it! What better way to get even with the stuck up son-of-a-bitch than to arrange for a little private "exhibition"… with the star performer being his darling little girl!

He suddenly brought both his hands up to her shoulders and pulled the white dress down until it fastened like a straight jacket around her body, just below her melon-like breasts, pinioning her arms to her sides. The stewardess was unable to slip the dress either up or down, and stood there, her face a mask of impotent rage.

"Get me out of this Goddamn thing, you bastard!" she shouted out at him. She drew up her foot and kicked him sharply on the shin. She followed it with a knee to the groin.

Her aim wasn't true; he hardly felt it. But a devilish sneer appeared on his lips. "Oh… so you like to play rough, eh? Ok, hitch. We'll play rough!"

He picked her up and slung her under his arm as though she were a store mannequin. She was screaming and kicking her legs. He literally threw her on the big bed, on her back, and tore the sandals off of her. Trish was still straight-jacketed by the crumpled, constricting dress, which had worked its way up to her hips, exposing her dark blonde mat of pussy hair to his wanton, rapacious gaze. While she lay there kicking and screaming, he ripped off her panties, then hastily removed his jacket, shirt and trousers. He slipped off his loafers and socks and peeled down his shorts.

Her eyes widened as she gazed at his naked, ten-inch rod of man-flesh, the blood-engorged head purple with rage. His huge, hairy testicles hung tautly between his sinewy thighs. He was a tower of virility before the wide-eyed stewardess, who thought she had seen everything there was to see in the bedroom – until now! He looked so powerful, so cruel and menacing as he loomed above her, his handsome face grimacing with vindictive lust.

"Like what you see, cunt?" he asked, reaching for his massive pole and grasping it gingerly in his hand as if it were a baby club.

"Oh my God, Peter… Oh my God!" was all she could say.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it? Isn't this what you've been after all along… every time you gave me one of your come-up-and-see-me-sometime looks? Every time you wiggled your hot little ass at me, or stuck those big round jugs under my nose? You wanted me to fuck you, didn't you, slut? You wanted me to stick my cock up between those good-looking legs of yours and fuck your hot little whore pussy, didn't you…?"

"I… I… yes… yessssss!" she cried out at him.

"Yes, what?" he taunted, a victorious sneer on his face. "What did you want me to do? See, I have to be sure you really want me, because I'm very insecure, and I might not be able to get a hard-on until you reassure me…" he said, sporting an erection that would do credit to a prize bull!

"I… I want you… to… fuck me," she breathed.

"How's that? I also have a hearing problem. You'll have to say it louder."

"I want you to fuck me. Fuck me, Goddamnit!" she screamed, the veins in her temples and the cords in her neck distending as she raised her head off the bed to shout at him. "Fuck me… fuck me… now!"

CHAPTER SEVEN

"Do you think your dad will let me show you around the island tomorrow?" the good-looking blond youth was saying to the pretty brunette as they sat on the steps of her father's house.

"He'd better!" Davie answered. "I know I can talk him into it. I don't know what was the matter with him tonight. He was acting funny all evening," said the innocent teen. Randy's thigh was pressed lightly but deliberately against her thigh. She was talking with great animation, the excitement and anticipation in her fluttering tummy channeled into her voice. She knew what both of them were thinking as they sat there side by side in the seducing shadows.

"I'll come by around eleven tomorrow morning. OK? Bring your bathing suit and a big jug of sun tan lotion!"

They both laughed then, and he put his arm around her shoulder in a friendly way. But when she turned to him, they both stopped smiling, and he looked deeply into her sparkling hazel eyes. Davie's heart was pounding wildly in her chest. He gave her a slow, irresistible smile. Then he leaned towards her and kissed her on the lips. It was a harmless, non-committal kiss – at first! But they lingered at each other's mouth's, and soon the kiss deepened, and Davie felt the boy's warm, probing tongue snaking in between her lips. She thought it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her; so much more exciting than being kissed by another female. There just was no comparison. She had never been kissed by a boy who kissed the way Randy Ferris did. No boy had ever made her feel that way!

Her young pussy began to tingle, and she could feel the wetness as her cunt juices began to flow and puddle in her panties. Her heart beat wildly, and she found it hard to get enough air in her lungs. She was suddenly afraid… afraid of the sensations in her body. All she could think of was the pictures in the magazine… the naked man who had Randy's face and body, and what he was doing to the naked, dark-haired girl…

Far fucking out! Randy thought as he kissed the luscious teen. This kid's already getting worked up! What a sweet, sexy little piece of ass she's going to be! Hell, she doesn't even know how sexy she is. If Knight wasn't on his way back here, I'd put the make on her and fuck her little ass off right now! But, easy, kid, easy does it. Trish said "hands off!" until tomorrow… and she's got it timed down to a rat's eyelash. Got to win the kid's trust first. Got to make her think I'm a harmless simple kind of dude who only wants to show her a good time… yeah, I'll show her a good time! Right in her virgin little pussy! A real fucking good time!

Without explanation, Randy drew back suddenly. Davie's lips were still parted. He looked into her eyes, giving her a serious, thoughtful and penetrating stare from under his sleepy eyelids. She suppressed an involuntary shudder.

"I'm sorry, Davie. I didn't mean to kiss you like that. Just lost my head, I guess. You're the kind of woman that really turns a guy on…"

He got up stiffly then, pretending to turn away in order to hide the embarrassing bulge in his tight pants. But Davie's eyes went instinctively to his groin, and her face grew hotter when she spied the noticeable knot under his fly. It seemed that there was a wild thing inside, straining to break free. She wanted it to…

"See you tomorrow," he said, waving his hand to her as he sauntered off.

"Right," she answered feebly. "G'night, Randy…"

The sexy blond boy grinned in the moonlight as he walked down the road towards his sister's bungalow. Wait 'till Trish gets a load of this! he thought smugly to himself. That Knight chick is as good as laid!

Once out of Davie's sight, he picked up his pace and strode briskly on, anticipating the night in bed with his gorgeous sexpot sister, confident that she would be alone when he returned to the bungalow. He kept expecting to meet the stiff proprietor on the path.

He was totally unprepared for the sounds that drifted out the open window from the sequestered one-room house – sounds which prompted him to tiptoe quietly for the last six feet and peer cautiously inside, after first looking around to check for possible "spies".

"Geezus Christ!" was the expletive that escaped involuntarily from under his breath. There was Trish, her dress a wrinkled rag around her arms and torso, tying spread-eagled on the bed, with the very naked, very hard Peter Knight standing above her, holding his elephant cock in his hand! Goddamn… he's got a schwanz that must be a good ten-inches long! Randy thought.

"I want you to fuck me. Fuck me, Goddamnit!" Trish screamed at him. "Fuck me… fuck me… now!"

Randy's mind was whirling. He was bowled over. The timing was all wrong. This wasn't supposed to happen unto tomorrow – that's what Trish had told him. But neither was her eating of Davie Knight's pussy – and look what happened! It was all like a scene out of "Future Shock"…

He suddenly saw an opportunity to accelerate his own cherry-popping plans. Quickly, he turned and tiptoed away from the window and hurried back to the Knight cottage…

Davie had watched Randy until he disappeared around a clump of tall bushes, his words echoing over and over in her young head: "You're the kind of woman that really turns a guy on…"

He called me a woman… a woman! she thought giddily to herself. There could be no greater compliment for a breathless sixteen year old. She added silently: And you're the kind of man that turns me on, Randy Ferris!

The disturbing wetness in her panties increased, and she found herself squeezing her thighs together to heighten the tingling sensations of pleasure that were coursing through her pussy. A lurid fantasy of Trish slavishly licking her cunt to orgasm pervaded her mind then, only to be supplanted by a three dimensional enactment of the poses an the VIVA photographs. She was hot! She had to do something! She only wished so badly that Randy were there at that moment. She didn't care if he lost respect for her, or what she felt afterwards. She only knew that her body demanded satisfaction. She needed to cum!

Davie rushed into the house, her cheeks flaming and her whole sun-baked body on fire with lust. She went straight to the lanai, puked off her clothes and threw them on top of the big pillows on the floor and scrambled into bed without putting on her pajamas. She crawled under the sheet, perspiring heavily and trembling with desire.

The tingling sensation had magnified tenfold now and her breathing became ragged and labored. Her fantasies became more vivid, bolder, and the passion increased accordingly in her breasts and belly. Her body ached for caresses: hands, lips, cocks! She reached under the sheet with a feverish hand and grasped one of her button-like nipples, crushing it between her fingers. A low moan escaped her parted lips, and the ache in her virginal cunt increased.

Slowly, then, she began to massage her breasts; first one, then the other, cupping the naked, sun-kissed mounds tenderly, then stroking each nipple in turn. Whirlpools of passion seethed within her young body. Her left hand remained at her taut, firm breasts stroking and caressing them, while her right traveled slowly downward, over the smooth, flat expanse of her heaving belly, then lower still, to the glistening curls of her pubic mound. Her legs were spread wide apart, and with trembling fingers, she spread her pussy lips, exposing the throbbing clitoral bud which stood erect as a miniature phallus. She thought of Trish, and the way the blonde woman had spread the quivering lips of her pussy that afternoon before she put her mouth and tongue right on Davie's sex mound. At this moment, she would have welcomed her friend again. But she really wanted it to be Randy's mouth… his lips, his tongue. What would they be like? What would it feel like to have his big, hard penis inside her vagina? Or her father's…

God, no! How could she have such a fantasy… even at the peak of her arousal? What kind of perverted monster was she, anyway, to entertain thoughts of her father's penis inside her? Wicked, shameful, that's what it was!

Her mouth was open wide now, and she panted like a puppy as she slid her middle finger along the fleece-lined furrow of her cunt, rubbing the distended little button of lusting tissue as she moved down to the warm wetness of her steaming furrow. The feeling generated by her finger on her burning clit elicited a gasp of rapture from the young beauty's throat as she rubbed and massaged the dewy nest with increased ardor.

"Oh, oh, oh," the youngster grunted as thoughts of young Randy's teenage cock fucking deep up into her openly spread young cunt flickered hotly through her mind!

She could feel the climax building, building within her; filling her body with excruciating delight. Her left hand continued to squeeze her breast, and she raised her head to her chest, sticking out her tongue as far as it would go, to lick at the inflamed nipple. She was on fire as she had never been on fire before, chanting under her breath as she rubbed the sensitive slit up and down, faster and faster and harder and harder. Randy… make me cum, Randy… make me cum… You're going to make me cum, Randy… You're going to make me… cuuuuummmmm!

"Aaaaaaggghhh! Aaaarrrgghh!" she cried out in a harsh, gasping whisper as her body shook with orgasmic release. Over and over she spasmed, and she kept rubbing her finger across her sensitized clit to intensify the bursting rockets of release within her, all the time massaging her pliant, longing breasts. Her climax seemed to last for a rapturous eternity before the delicious sensations began to ebb. Then finally it was over, and she took her hand from her young pussy and wiped her finger on the sheet. She lay flat on her back, her eyes closed, her body weak and drained and tingling with the afterglow of rapture.

An unexpected knock on the door sent a stab of terror through her and caused her limpid eyes to fly open. She sucked in her breath. Someone was outside.

"Davie! Davie, are you awake? I have to talk to you!" the voice called to her. It was Randy! Why??? Why had he come back? Her father would be here any minute, and he would be blazing mad if he found Randy still here!

Her mind a blur, she threw back the sheet and sprang to her feet, her balance unsteady from the rocking orgasm. She looked for a robe or something to put on. Then she spotted her dress. She climbed into it hastily and zipped it up, without bothering to put on shoes or panties. She fluffed her silky, sable-colored hair with her fingers as she hurried to the door.

Randy stood there out of breath, a strange expression on his face. "I'm sorry to bother you again Davie," he said, "but I… I didn't know what else to do. Could I… would it be all right if I came in for a few minutes?"

"I don't understand, Randy. What's the matter? I mean, it's OK with me if you come in, but my daddy's going to be here any minute, and that could spoil things for tomorrow if he finds you're still here." Something in his expression alarmed her. She felt an unexplainable knot of dread. She also felt terribly embarrassed, having just finished masturbating her way to orgasm with his name on her lips. She was afraid he might be able to read her thoughts.

Randy sighed heavily, then he gave her a quiet grin before he resumed his concerned, serious mien.

"I don't think your daddy's going to be here for a while. In fact, he won't be here for a long, long time."

"Why? What's happened to him?" Davie asked urgently, her large hazel eyes growing wide with fear.

"My sister's happened to him, that's what. They're together… at her place."

"So? You mean they're having a drink together or something?"

"Or something. You know what I mean, Davie. Your dad and my sister they're… making love." He wanted to say, They're fucking! But he didn't dare – yet.

Davie Knight was crestfallen. But another part of her was excited by the image of her strong, virile father with his penis inside Trish Byers. She would give anything to see that and yet, she was afraid to. Somehow her father was holy he was a God. Gods just didn't do things like ordinary people do. Or did they…?

"You're putting me on, Randy. How would you know that? I'm sure they're not going to invite you in to watch!" she said indignantly. If it were true, she resented Randy's intrusion on the intimate scene.

"Oh yeah? Well it just so happens that I was going over to Trish's to tell her goodnight, and I heard all this noise coming from her room. There weren't any lights on, so I went over to the window and looked in. I'm not about to tell you what I saw, Davie. You're a little too innocent to hear those things…"

"You said I was a woman!" she blurted out. "Besides I still don't believe you. You're playing a mean trick on me, I bet!"

"Trick, huh?" he said, eyeing her smugly. "Give me your hand."

"My hand? What?" she asked uncomprehendingly.

"Come on, baby. You asked for it. But don't say I didn't warn you!" And he took her by the hand and led her quickly to his sister's bungalow, where…

Peter Knight's mouth was fastened on one of the blonde woman's pneumatic breasts, and he was rolling it around and around on her chest with the broad, wet blade of his tongue! The stewardess was squirming on the bed, her legs churning against the naked man who lay half atop her. Their bodies glistened in the moonlight, which was bright as a light bulb in the room. Trish had something around her arms and under her breasts, like a bandage. It was her white dress – a crumpled swatch of fabric not more than five-inches wide! She was bound with her own dress!

Davie's knees buckled slightly and she sagged against her blond companion, her eyes like saucer-like and her mouth agape. She was about to let out a cry of protest when Randy's warm hand came from behind and muffled the imminent shriek before it was voiced.

"Oooooh… yesssss! Oh God, lover! Fuck me now!" Trish cried aloud. Then, "Ooooowwwwwww! Aaaahhh! Don't hurt me like that!" Peter Knight's teeth flashed in the moonlight as he bit into the tender, succulent flesh. Trish's face was contorted with pain. Davie couldn't understand why her daddy would be so mean to Trish. Is that the way people make love? Did Trish really like it like that? She sure didn't seem to, judging from the look on her face! Oh, it was all so sickening, so gross. She felt nauseous, but she couldn't take her eyes off the pair on the bed.

"Yes, baby. I'm going to fuck you all right. I'm going to fuck you like you've never been fucked before. You wanted it – now see how you like this!" Davie's daddy said, as he drew back from the stewardess and rose to his knees. It was then that Davie saw his penis fully erect… it was huge! It was even bigger than she expected it to be! Was he really going to be able to get that thing inside Trish's vagina?

Noooo. Not in her vagina. The enraged resort owner had no intention of shoving his cock inside the captive bitch's vagina – he was going to ram it into her asshole!

He climbed between her legs and kneeled upright, poised before his conquest. He'd show the bitch – she'd think twice before she ever begged somebody to fuck her again!

There was breathless anticipation on the blonde wanton's face – at last she was to feel Peter Knight's huge cock in her scalding pussy. She gave him a provocative smile and stretched her legs further apart and arched her back in open invitation to the virile man. Outside the window, Randy had a huge erection of his own from watching the lascivious, exciting scene on the bed. He drew young Davie slightly closer to him, so that the tip of his protruding cock was just touching her firm, ripe ass cheek. He wanted to hoist up her dress and plug her right then! She shifted her weight slightly, so that she was somehow just a little bit closer… He had one hand over her mouth and the other around her tiny waist.

The handsome, well-muscled man on the bed reached under the writhing stewardess with both hands and pulled her body close to him. He was kneeling on his haunches now, his muscular thighs forming a vee on the bed. He raised her ass high in the air until her legs dangled near his shoulders and she was almost standing on her head, a position which gave the two young voyeurs outside an unobstructed new of her nether parts.

Davie flushed crimson with embarrassment. Here she was, standing against a boy she hardly knew, watching her father and Trish in the most blatant throes of love-making… violent sex, that's what it was. She wanted to run away, to crawl in a hole and never we any of them again. How could she face her father, or Trish? How could she bear to look at Randy…?

His hand was circling his throbbing penis, guiding it closer and closer towards the moist lips of her surging pussy… parting the fleecy cunt hair with the blood-engorged head. Suddenly, he flexed his hips and drove his mighty organ deep up into the hot, gaping mouth of her hungry cunt with a flesh-tearing thrust that hammered his balls against the naked and defenseless flesh of Trish's upturned buttocks.

"Uuuuuaaaahhhhhh!" she screamed beneath him. The elastic sheath consumed his fleshy rod as it raced to the full length of her belly and rammed hard against her cervix.

"Oh, Lord, Dad's fucking her crazy!" the young girl moaned as she watched her father's heavily burgeoning cock fuck far up into the hungrily gripping cunt of the ecstatically screaming stewardess!

"Ooooohhh!" she howled again. "Aaaaahhh, that's it, lover… that's the way to give it to me… that's the way to fuuuuuuccckk!"

You're not going to give me any lessons, bitch! he thought angrily. For a moment he was caught up in the caressing sheath of her slippery pussy, and he was tempted to forget his vendetta and fuck her to a fare-thee-well just like that. It felt so Goddamm fabulous! But maybe later, later he could fuck her pussy; after she had sucked his cock… which would be after he fucked her in the ass!

Davie had seen enough. My father… and Trish… oh God, they're… they're… doing it… like animals… both of them naked and thrashing around on that bed, his thing all hard and wet and jammed far up inside her belly. She must have a pretty big pussy to be able to take all that. Noooo… it's too much… I don't want that to happen to me… noooo!

Her mind rolling, her stomach churning with queasiness, Davie struggled in blind panic and freed herself from Randy's captive grip. She had to get away, had to run from that vile scene, from that sinful, animalistic display! How could I have ever thought I wanted something like that to happen to me? Oh God, nooooo… please dear God, don't let anything like that happen to me – ever!

The tormented girl broke out in a dead run for her father's house. Fear and anguish sent adrenaline coursing through her veins, and she ran like the wind to get back to the safety, the privacy of her own bed.

Randy followed, maintaining a brisk pace to keep her in his sights and yet, staying far enough away not to alarm her further. Shit! he swore to himself. The Goddamn thing's backfired. Scared the begeezas out of her! Now I'm going to have a helluva time getting into her box! I'll have to walk on water to get into her pants tonight!

Back in the bungalow used by the curvaceous blonde guest at Peter Knight's resort, the two sweating figures on the bed were caught in the throes of a grudge fuck, with Trish Byers coming out the worst. Her vindictive, dark-haired lover had abruptly withdrawn his rigid cock from the warm closing depths of her hungry pussy, much to the blonde's bewilderment and frustration, and was again kneeling before her wide-spread, flailing legs, a sadistic leer on his normally handsome face. The woman's blue eyes were wide with apprehension.

He grasped her legs under the knees and yanked her up even higher, so that her head was twisted and her chin lay uncomfortably on her collar bone. He scooted forward, throwing her long, willowy legs back until she was completely jackknifed, her knees hovering on either side of her head. "Oooowww. Not like this, Peter. Not like this!" she cried, but he held her legs in place while he used his cock as a probe to find the puckered little entrance to her rectum. The crevice had a rivulet of perspiration trapped there, and he bathed the tip of his prick in the salty moisture, stirring it around the brown nether entrance with his cockhead. Without warning, he thrust forward, splitting the resistant sphincter ring with his massive cock. Trish screamed out in pain.

"Aaaaawwwww! Nooooo! It hurts! It hurts!"

Fired by her cries and brazen in his vengeance, Knight pressed further into the tight elasticity of her nether passage.

A searing shaft of pain accompanied his brutal penetration. The lovely blonde cried out again, and tears filled her eyes. She begged him to stop. But to no avail.

He thrust again, imbedding his steely pole even further into her tortured anus. She writhed and squirmed and tried to get out from under her assailant, but she was helplessly pinned to the bed, and her contortions only succeeded in driving his cock further into her ravaged ass. She felt as though she were being disemboweled by a flaming spear. Her whole body trembled with pain and she cursed him aloud for his brutality. "I'll get you for this, you son-of-a-bitch! I'll get you! Bastard! Goddamned fucking bastard!" she railed at him over and over again. But with each epithet she shrieked, the frenzied resort owner rammed deeper and harder into her tortured anal passage, until there was no where left to go but out.

He rested for a moment, flexing his cock inside her, eliciting more cries of pain from the switch hitting stewie. Then slowly, ever so slowly, he put it in reverse and began to pull out, until only the bloated head was lodged inside her stretched anus. He reached forward to grab her beefy breasts with his hands, massaging them roughly; pinching the nipples hard between his fingers. She groaned under his manipulations, her body racked with trembling. He was paying her back – punishing her for what she had done to his beautiful, innocent little girl. He was settling a score for Davie…

He thrust forward again, burying his cock up to the hilt in Trish Byers' tight and tortured asshole, until his balls smacked lewdly against her upturned ass cheeks, evoking another banshee cry of pain from the stewardess. Then he began a determined sawing motion with his fully inflated, lusting cock, feeling the pressure building and building in his balls. He had to cum soo. He had to, had to! If he didn't fill her ass with his fiery seed soon, he was going to go out of his frigging mind! Oh, oh, oh he had to cum!

I have to cum… have to cum… have to… he chanted wordlessly as he fucked deep and hard into the tight, hot and harassed rectal passage. Take that, bitch… and that, Francine… his mind screamed, as he thought of his cold ex-wife and her emasculating indifference to his needs. Take that! he shouted silently, as he envisioned her blowing the fairy who was being sodomized by his faggot lover. There's only one… only one… pure (thrust) beautiful (thrust) loving (thrust) desirable (thrust) woman (thrust) Davie (thrust)… Davie (thrust)… DAVIE!

The hot, sticky load began its frenzied rush from his bloated scrotum along the fiery tube of his cock. He began to spew hot, thin streams into the blonde's clasping asshole in a raging torment, emptying his frothy payload deep, deep up into the tortured inner depths of her violated rectum.

"Aaaaaggghh, fuck it, baby, fuck it haaaaarrrrrddd!" the stewardess was screaming at him as she lay writhing on the bed, her legs jackknifed against her breasts and her crotch fully expanded for his pleasure. Her eyes were rolling in her head, and her face was contorted with lust and pain as she desperately sought her own release.

No! Oh no you don't, bitch! he said to himself when his blurry thought congealed. He pulled his stud hard cock out of her anus as if it were a greased pig. The suction noises were embarrassing. His cockhead traded stringy, mucous-like strands of semen as he hovered over her and pulled her legs down on the bed. Her face was tear-stained and black mascara smudged her cheeks. Her lipstick was smeared across her face. She looked anything but the cool, confident seductress who had goaded him into fucking her. He felt a wave of pity for her then; she was so vulnerable, so totally demoralized. God, how he despised her!

She whimpered at him pathetically. "Please, Peter, please don't hurt me anymore. Let me love you, honey. Let me show you what kind of woman I can be for you…"

"Of course, sweetie. Of course I'm going to let you show me… right now… right this moment, my dear…"

His voice was calm and quiet. He smiled warmly at her – too warmly. He reached up to her and began to ease the constricting dress down her arms. It wasn't easy. Finally, he rolled it down around her hips, so that her arms were free. It was a simple matter to get it off her after that.

There were red marks on her arms where the cloth had bound her limbs. He took each arm in turn, and rubbed it vigorously, evoking a grateful smile from the unsuspecting vamp. Then he began to kiss her breasts again, only lightly, tenderly now. He raised each of his legs and pushed hers together between them. Then he walked on his knees up the bed, until his half-hard cock was only inches from her mouth.

"Now, Trish. Love me now. Love my cock. Take my cock into your mouth, sweetie, and lick off every drop of cum… And if you love me well, if you're really a good little cock sucker, I'll let you love me with your pussy. I'll let you suck out some more of my cum with your hot, hungry cunt!"

CHAPTER EIGHT

Davie had flung herself across the bed and was sobbing as the scheming, incestuous brother of her so-called "friend" kneeled beside her on the floor, a comforting hand on her back.

"That's right, Davie, let it all out. Just cry away – everything you saw going on in that room. Let that whole scene between my sister and your dad wash right out of your eyes," he told her tenderly, cunningly.

The distraught young girl cried even harder, her pitiful sobs filling the darkened bedroom. She felt lost, empty, and she didn't know where to turn. Her father… the one person in the world she loved and respected… lying there naked on the bed rutting with a woman she thought was a trusted friend… the same woman who had… been with her at the beach today… Oh God, oh God! The whole world was crashing down around her! She thought everything would be all right once she got to Eleuthera. Isn't that what Trish said? Isn't that what her father had said: "Everything's going to work out fine… just fine!" Yes… for them!

Now Randy was her only friend. She had been betrayed by her father and Trish… and yet, they were doing something that's perfectly natural; something all grownups do… they wouldn't have done it in front of her. Still, she had always thought of sex as something good and clean, something you did with someone you really loved – not just the slapping together of bodies… She was so confused. If only she hadn't seen them together… if only she hadn't seen her mother with those two disgusting fairies… if only she hadn't let Trish lick her between the legs this afternoon… It was all too much, too fast. She didn't really hate her father, and she didn't really hate Trish, either; but something was lost, gone forever… Something had changed in her attitude toward the man who had sired her, and toward the woman who she thought was her friend – and she didn't know what it was. It only filled her with an unutterable sadness. She felt like a little girl lost.

The tears gushed freely until her lovely eyes stung and she felt her nose was a red balloon. She was only dimly aware that Randy was whispering consoling words in her ear; that he was stroking her dark hair and rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. His voice was hypnotic, his touch, reassuring.

"… and just forget it, Davie. Forget that they were naked on that bed… forget that they were all turned on and saying things… all those dirty words. Don't think about how they must have felt… what it must have been like for them on that bed… no, honey, just put all that out of your mind…"

Put it out of her mind. That's what she had to do, of course. That is what she would do. She'd put those pictures out of her mind, too… the ones in VIVA… Randy and that Oriental girl… No! Not Randy… somebody else…

Randy got up and sat on the edge of the bed. Her face was turned away from him and he kept stroking her hair and whispering comforting words, over and over… Then he stroked her shoulder again, and her soft, bare arm. His hand was warm; his touch was delicate, deft. It felt so good to be caressed by this handsome, understanding boy who was her only friend now. He was right, she mustn't think about what she saw a little while ago in Trish's bungalow; she mustn't let that image remain vividly implanted on her brain…

"Don't, Davie… don't think about it anymore…" he said as he gently took her shoulder in his hand and turned her over on her back. He brushed some wispy strands of hair away from her fevered face and smiled at her tenderly. He knew that his words were having the desired effect on her now; she was thinking about her father and Trish, of course, just as he had hoped she would. It's going to work after all, he thought exultantly. I'm going to score with this tight little cherry tonight!

Davie looked up into his strong, handsome face. His words seemed to flow like molasses into her ears. She was fully aware that he was telling her not to think of what she had witnessed, but the vision became fixed in her mind instead. In fact, the more he droned on, the more he stroked her hair and her arms and talked to her in his soporific way, the more clarified became the scene in her mind. She didn't want to think about it, but she couldn't put it out of her consciousness, she just couldn't.

And strangely enough, the images in the lovely teen's brain were beginning to have a certain physical effect on her innocent flesh as well. She could feel a strange, twitching sensation deep in her belly; the same kind of sensation she had felt when Randy kissed her on the steps. She suddenly felt like being kissed again, and she must have communicated this to the hot-blooded youth, for he slowly leaned over her and pressed his lips to hers again, not French kissing her this time, but just kissing her softly and tenderly and very, very excitingly.

She began to tremble slightly under the pressure of his chest against her body, not from shock or weeping now, but from something far more basic, something that was the captive woman inside yearning to break free…

Randy felt the young girl trembling beneath his embrace and he smiled inwardly. She's almost ready… almost. Easy does it, fella. This is the crucial moment, right now. Just a little bit more and you'll be home free!

He let his face rest on hers while he continued to stroke her hair and brush it away from her fevered face until finally, he let his hand move down, down ever so slowly and gently onto the swelling mound of her nubile young breast. She was breathing faster now, and so was he, as he continued to implant the image of her father's sexual escapade with his lucious, naked sister in her confused young mind.

He began to rub the pliant globe tenderly and lightly and he felt her stiffen at his touch. But she made no initial effort to push his hand away. He smiled to himself, confident that he had won the first round. He kept caressing her breast, running his thumb across the hardened little nipple, his heart pounding in his chest and his cock leaping like a wild bronco in his pants.

Suddenly, a red light flashed in Davie Knight's brain, warning her to stop this gentle boy's caresses, warning her to stop before it was too late, before her own body betrayed her and she was suddenly swept away in a flooding tide of passion. Yes, she had to stop him… stop him from feeling up her breast, even though it felt soooo good, so warm and wonderful. The sensations in her body were already beckoning her on… on into the dark and terrifying unknown. They were sounding a siren call to her most primitive and latent grownup desires…

"No! No, Randy! Stop!" she cried, pulling his hand away and rolling away from his into an upright, sitting position, her back to him and her head buried in her hands. She was a living, breathing conundrum of confused desire.

The lust-ridden youth was taken completely by surprise. He had been strongly confident that she was totally his now. He gaped at her for a moment, then reached out and grabbed her, pulling her back into the fold of his arms. "Take it easy, Davie," he panted, "it's all right. Everything's just fine…"

Now he was saying it, too! Why was everything "just fine" for everyone else except her? Nothing was "just fine"…

She tried to resist him. "No, you shouldn't touch me like that… you know you shouldn't; not after what we just saw. It's wrong."

"What's wrong about it, Davie?" he asked desperately, feeling his conquest slipping irretrievably from him. "It's not wrong – it's right, don't you see that, Davie? It's right because you're a woman now, Davie, a woman – with a woman's body and a woman's needs. You're ready to fulfill that womanhood… you're ready to give in to your emotions, Davie… to let that woman inside of you free…"

"Like Trish does… if that's the kind of woman I'm supposed to be – a bitch in heat!"

"You'll be fortunate – very fortunate – if you ever come half way close to being the woman Trish is!" he flung back hotly. Then he cursed himself for being so rash. "What I mean, Davie, is that…" He drew a long breath. Shit! How do I get out of this one! "See, your dad and Trish, they've both been around the block. They're mature people. They both dig it, because that's the way it's meant to be. If it wasn't, well, nobody would turn on in the first place. You'd see why they were doing it, you'd know why they were both naked on that bed together if you let yourself he the woman you are… if you let yourself go and make love… with me… I want to make love to you, Davie… I want to feel your beautiful naked body next to mine… want to give myself to you, the way a man gives himself to a woman… in bed…"

"Noooo!" she wailed, totally afraid now. She didn't understand what had come over Randy. He was so nice before, almost like a brother… What was he thinking of now? How could he be thinking of doing to her what her father was doing to Trish?

Randy was beside himself now. Panic mixed with pride and rage coursed through his young loins. You little prick teasing bitch! he swore at her silently. You're not getting off the hook that easy! I'm going to fuck you tonight, even if it means tearing off that innocent little dress and raping you!

He grabbed Davie's breasts in both his hands and forced her down on the bed, pinning her there with his agile body. She struggled, trying to scream, but he clamped his mouth tightly onto her, forcing her lips wide apart with his lips and tongue, sending his oral probe deep into her soft, warm mouth as though it were his cock in her cunt which it soon would be, his cock into her tight little hole. The terrified young girl continued to struggle, but her struggled only excited the passion-crazed youth who pressed his strong body, with its unavoidable witness of masculinity, harder into her loins. He was going to rape her! She knew it now. She had so often dreamed of the first time with a boy. In those childish fantasies, the boy was always gentle, tender and patient. Now she was going to be ravaged by a man she had trusted… a man who had suddenly gone out of control. Noooooo!

But the young teenage girl was helpless beneath the powerful, lust-crazed youth. He reached down and grabbed the hem of her thin cotton dress and began working it up her legs. Her struggles only assisted and fanned his raging desire. Every time she squirmed, she rubbed against his burgeoning cock, exciting the passionate young man even more. Finally, the dress was hiked up over her bare breasts and under her armpits, leaving her totally naked except for the rumpled rag around her upper chest. Davie was humiliated beyond words, and she lay on her back struggling, trying to turn her face away from the demanding youth, her eyes blurred by tears.

"No, honey… don't cry," he kept saying to her, his voice quavering, "there's nothing to cry about… you want it, Davie… you know you want it… want to feel my cock inside you, the way Trish felt your old man's… it's a beautiful thing… beautiful to feel a warm, hard cock in you hot little pussy… oh, baby… I want to fuck you, baby… I want you, honey… got to have you…"

His eyes feasted on her naked, trembling breast flesh, and he raised a hand to the circular mounds, pinching one tiny coral nipple until it stood firm and erect. Then he repeated the process with the other. And then he swooped down like a sea gull and engulfed one breast gluttonously in his mouth, pulling the nipple and the aureole between his lips and sucking and nibbling voraciously on the sensitive flesh. Davie cried out in protest, but he paid no attention. Who would come to her rescue – her old man? Hah! He was fucking the shit out of somebody else at that moment!

Randy licked voraciously at the delectable flesh of Davie's breasts and nipples, his cock near to bursting with desire and demanding release. Davie's body's threshed wildly beneath him, and he sensed that her frenetic movements were not totally inspired by fear, that rather, it was his mouth and tongue on her naked tits that was causing her such agitation.

Faster and faster his mouth and tongue licked over the trembling young globes, setting them afire with his liquid firebrand. Then his hand dipped down to her dark, fleecy pubic mound, and his fingers crawled over her soft pussy hair and into her slick, virginal pussy slit. He almost went wild with delirium and expectation.

"Ooooooohhhh!" Davie cried fearfully as she felt his merciless touch on her secret pants. "Noooo, Randy… stop it… you've got to stop!"

"… can't… I can't stop now… it feels so great… oooohhh, God it feels good…"

He spread her legs rudely to give him greater access to her trembling cunt. Davie flailed her head insanely from side to side and tried to push him away with her small fists, but her efforts were useless. She stared up at the passion-contorted features of the sexy blond boy with terror in her eyes terror mixed with excitement. She was aroused more than she had ever been. But she was afraid, too. No, no, no! Please don't let this happen. I don't want it to happen, not like this! I don't want to be raped. I don't want you to hurt me. Ohhhhh, noooo! she screamed silently.

As though he had received her mute plea telepathically and was contemptuous of her request, Randy began tearing at his own clothes, unable to get them off fast enough. She heard a button fail to the floor as he clawed at his shirt. He swore under his breath as he fumbled with his belt buckle and zipper, then almost lost his balance as he attempted to pull down his pants while he was kneeling between her legs, holding them with his powerful knees. If she hadn't been so frightened, she might have giggled at his clumsy, feverish attempt to undress while keeping her in her place beneath him. But where there's a will-of-the-aching-cock, there's a fucking way, and in a matter of moments, Randy, too, was bare-ass naked before her, his throbbing, rock-hard cock standing away from his muscular belly like a flag pole. Her eyes widened an disbelief. God, he did look like the model in the photograph! How did Trish know that?

Through fear-widened eyes, the lovely teenager watched the threatening instrument above her; the massive girth, the hard, blue-veined head, the wet droplets of seminal lubrication oozing from the tiny slit in the end. It was big, all right, though not as big as her fathers. She thanked God for that.

Suddenly, the frenzied blond youth moved down on top of her, forcing himself brutally between her slender legs, his hips falling heavily to wedge her tender young thighs far apart, securing her bouncing young buttocks to the mattress. The dark downy curls of her pubic hair brushed tantalizingly against his throbbing cockhead, inciting him to unintelligible babblings of frenzied lust, drowning her low moans of fear and protest. Randy placed his knees between her thighs to hold her open to him, grinding his pelvis hard into her defenseless crotch. Then he grabbed hold of his cock and worked it up teasingly up and down until he parted the moist lips of her cunt with his prick's swollen tip. He paused momentarily before the entrance of the snug, undefiled passage, panting heavily, droplets of sweat beading his body. Then…

He let out a loud groan, thrust his hips forward… and rammed into her like a Mack truck hitting a stack of cardboard boxes!

His long, sleek cock slid into her tight, vainly resisting little cunt with a roaring fury, pushing the soft, moist flesh of her vaginal walls in pressured waves before it, tearing her hymen like so much tissue paper.

"Aaaarrrrraannggghh!" Davie screamed. "Oh my Goooooddd!" Her naked passage felt as if his plunging weapon had ripped it into a thousand tiny shards and she would bleed like a stuck pig. Then his balls slapped harshly off her wet, furrowed buttocks, and he was filling her completely, mercilessly, with no thought of her pain. His shaft lay sunk deep in her belly, like a white-hot pole of living fire rammed deep in her, and there wasn't one tiny ridge of her cunt walls left untouched and unpaved by the boy's marauding penis.

He lay still for a moment then, his perspiring face next to her's, his hot breath fanning her ear like that of a satyr's. Then he raised his head and looked at her, lust contorting his handsome face. "How does that feel, honey? How does it feel to have my big, slippery cock deep inside your tight, sweet pussy?" he panted to her.

Davie hooked at him contemptuously. "How do you think it feels, you… you animal! It hurts! It's killing me!"

"No, baby. Don't say that. You don't mean that. You like it. You love it. You want it, don't you? Don't you!" And he flexed his rigid cock inside her and shoved it ever harder against her cervix.

"Aaaaaahhhhhhh. Uuuuuunnnggghh!" she wailed again.

He began a slow, rocking motion between her thighs, seating her soft and sensitive flesh with waves of pain as his expanded prick widened the tight passage with each short, smooth stroke. Davie's legs jackknifed in a frantic effort to escape the barbaric impalement, but it only served to worsen her position. Pitiable screams of pain came tumbling from deep in the subjugated young girl's throat as his rock-hard shaft battered her yielding cunt flesh. He was driven onward by her hapless cries; nothing could have deterred him now – not even the appearance of her old man. His only thought was to deliver the load of semen that weighted his hairy balls, and she slammed the twin blocks of lust into her again and again in a desperate rush for orgasmic release. Faster and faster his pelvis slammed onto the sweating, defenseless loins of the naked young teenager, never letting up, never slackening his thrust to give her an opportunity to adjust to his rampaging cock. There was nothing for him now but cumming, cumming…

Davie's body was aching with pain, but her brain was awhirl with crazy, confusing thoughts; confetti in the wind. It's inside me, a man's thing… for the first time… and the pain… it hurts… it's so hot and hard in me… Trish said it hurt the first time, for awhile… he's raping me… a very sexy boy, but why is he doing it like this…? I thought it would kill me when he shoved it in… doesn't hurt as much now… so hot and hard inside me… a woman… does this make me a woman…? it hurts kind of good…

Then all at once, her body, as though floating off like a severed space capsule, began to respond involuntarily to the fierce hammerings from Randy Ferris' bludgeoning cock. She didn't think about it consciously, didn't understand or want to. She merely acted instinctively. Her whole being began to twist and writhe beneath him and she groaned incessantly. Her hot, hungry mouth sought Randy's and she moaned into the dark, warm grotto and stuck her tongue wildly inside. Faint mewls of submission issued from the back of her throat. Her face was wrung with passion her mouth toiled and her neck strained; her nostrils flared lewd flames of desire began to consume her. Something was driving her on now, something in her body that made her want to answer his thrusts with complementary motions of her own.

She was liking it!

She was enjoying Randy's penis inside her! It still hurt, but just as he had said, she did like it; she did want it. The starting admission to herself struck the lovely girl with the impact of a kick in the stomach. It couldn't be true, it just couldn't and yet it was! Davie's pussy had finally adjusted to the girth and length filling it and, though there was still some pain, she had begun to be aware more of the pleasurable sensations inside her. Her entire body was tingling, and she could feel the many enjoyable jolts along with the painful ones, jolts of sensual pleasure that she had never known before; they had been stored in her child's body just waiting for release, just waiting for the opportunity to transform her from a little girl into a sensuous woman.

Going herself up completely now to the wild sensuality taking hold of her, Davie flung her legs wider for her hot-blooded seducer, giving him better access to her demanding pussy. She was no longer oppressed by fear or pain or conflict, only by the swirling heat which attacked her body like a raging inferno. Her hands clutched convulsively at his back, nails raking across it, drawing skin with them and raising small welts in her ardor as she sent her tongue hard into Randy's mouth, her saliva mingling with his and flowing from the corners of her soft, pink lips. Crazed with passion and arousal now, the lovely young brunette rolled her hips beneath the hot shaft submerged in her once-innocent belly, her pussy walls completely accepting everything he could give to her newly-conquered cunt. The swollen twins of his testicles rammed harder and harder against her quivering buttocks as he sought his release. Davie wanted to cum now, too!

As he got closer and closer to his orgasm, Randy became increasingly aware that the young virgin was no longer fighting him, was no longer afraid; that her scratchings on his flesh were done out of desire rather than fear. She was helping him, fucking with him now… damned if she wasn't digging it! The way her tongue shot into his mouth, the way she'd thrown her legs wide, the way she was twisting her body in the newly discovered rhythm of a sensual woman first experiencing sexual intercourse… they all told him that she liked him fucking her; liked it, wanted it, wanted to cum and wanted him to cum, to fill her up with his hot, molten seed…

Yes… ooohhh yyyyyesssss! The gun had been cocked and the last lewd finger of thought pulled the trigger. His cock began jerking insanely in her soft, elastic pussy as he bucked and heaved above her; great billows of heat swirled through his loins as he emptied his hirsute balls of his seed and the molten cum raced along the length of his cock and exploded inside the virginal belly of the bucking young beauty beneath him – again and again and again, a never-ceasing flow of liquid fire filling her chaste cunt, despoiling it, filling it to overflowing.

"Oh, squirt it to me, Randy! Squirt it to me goooood!" the young teenager grunted as the young boy's heavily bloated cock splashed out its hot, liquid cum hard up against the bottom of her belly inside!

And Davie accepted his cum, mewling wildly into his mouth, her legs kicking and jerking in the air as her invaded cunt was jolted again and again with the hot spurts of jism from his fiery tool. Never had she known such intense feelings! Oh God, was this what doing it was like all the time? Was this the way it was, this crazy, wild abandoned feeling? Ooooohhhhh, it was soooo good! Now she needed to cum too, wanted to cum with him, while he was spewing his fire into her belly…

She strove for release with every muscle in her inexperienced young body. "Don't stop, Randy, don't stop! Don't stop now!" she cried out to him as she bucked wildly against him as hard as she could. She was close… so close. The sensations were building, building in her loins. She knew what it was to cum, knew the delicious torment that preceded it… she was feeling that torment now, straining, reaching, fucking back on his spewing cock. She had to cum on this beautiful boy's cock. She had to… had to cum!

She did. A thousand taunting feathers tickled her innards with fire and she flailed her head on the bed in answer to the rapture that filled her young, climaxing body. She gasped and groaned and sputtered her release as she gave herself to the sexy and selfish young man who had deflowered her so brutally. Randy swelled with pride as he felt her release, as he experienced the beautiful young girl beneath his body being racked by a powerful climax. Geezus Christ! He never expected that to happen, not the first time! This chick is something else! he was thinking while he obliged her and continued to fuck into her long after his cock had finished shooting its load of white, frothy cum into her belly. Finally, it was over, and he wearily collapsed on top of her, both of them gasping for breath. They lay there for several minutes together, not saying another word, until their breathing returned to normal and his deflating cock slipped from the flooded sheath of her young pussy with an obscene sluicing sound, dripping a tell-tale vestige of semen across her white thigh as he rolled off her and onto his back.

He reached over and pulled her onto him. "Oh God, Davie!" he breathed up at her, covering her sweating face with moist, hot kisses, "That was wonderful, just fantastic, the best I've ever had! Oh Davie, honey, I'm sorry I was so rough on you, but I couldn't control myself… you were driving me out of my ever-lovin' mind! You understand, don't you? Please tell me that you understand, that you forgive me – please. I know you like it, baby. I know you did. Even for your first time. It was good, wasn't it? Wasn't it good? And it's going to get better…"

The ravished young brunette beauty lay propped on her elbow, her chin cupped en her hand, looking at him for a long time without speaking. Then a slow, inscrutable smile began to form at her sensuous full lips. "I understand, Randy, I really do. And… yes, I did like it and… maybe I'm crazy but… I do forgive you," she said quietly. Then she hesitated for a moment, her large, lovely hazel eyes looking steadily into his, before she asked him innocently, "When can we do it again…?"

CHAPTER NINE

"That was fantastic, Peter, just fantastic. I don't know when I've been fucked quite so breathless," the exhausted blonde said sincerely. But her mind was filled with dark thoughts of revenge em the virile resort owner for the way he had treated her – like a filthy whore! It wasn't enough him to give her a savage ass fucking; he made her lick his cock clean right afterwards, then suck his huge cock off while he kneeled over her with his big hands knotted in her hair. He almost pulled it out by the roots! It wasn't until after all that that he fucked her cunt, that he let her cum too! The bastard! The stuck-up fucking bastard! Who the hell does he think he is, treating her like that… calling her those filthy names? What the hell does he have against her?

Peter Knight lay beside the voluptuous blonde with his eyes closed. He was sated, fulfilled, completely at peace. He smiled inwardly, knowing that he should feel some kind of remorse for his vicious treatment of the cunt-eating stewardess, but he didn't. He had settled the score, so to speak. Not only with her, but with Francine – thought his ex-wife's comeuppance for what she had subjected Davie to was still to be arranged.

His ego was bolstered, he was king of the mountain now. He never thought he would be able to get it up three times in a row! Why the hell had he denied himself for so long? Too bad the blonde bitch couldn't keep her hands off his tender daughter; if he hadn't seen that, he would feel different about her perhaps… she certainly was one helluva fuck, about the best he'd ever had, matching him stroke for stroke, turning him on to unbelievable heights of passion with her obscene words and her flaming, unbridled sexuality. She was a white witch, using some kind of voodoo magic on him to draw the fiery cum out of his balls. His only regret was that he had given her the satisfaction of capitulating to her brazen desirability. He would have gotten more points in his own mind if he had walked away from her a few hours ago without so much as a kiss. But then, look what he would have missed!

A few hours ago! Geezus Christ – Davie! She was home alone – she'd better be! Dammit – he had allowed his own sexual craving to overshadow his new-found duties to his young daughter; he had been weak when he should have been strong! He had to get back to the house!

He roe unsteadily to his feet. His mind was alert, but his body responded torpidly. He blinked and looked around the room. The moon had risen on the horizon and the warm, blue shadows no longer illuminated the room. Still, they had never bothered to turn on a light, so his eyes had only slight difficulty adjusting to the dimness. He scuffed around the room, gathering his discarded clothing and began to dress. He also began to collect his thoughts.

What to do about Trish Byers… he didn't want to see her again and yet, he did. He had never known a woman as wildly abandoned, as insatiable, as fantastic in bed, despite the handicap he gave her. But she also represented a danger to his way of life, to the permanent reunion he was planning for him and Davie – he didn't want his darling little girl in the blonde's cunt-eating clutches ever again! One way to insure that was to keep the stewie stuffed full of his cock! But how would Davie feel about that? What was she supposed to do while he was off screwing around with Trish…? She was still provocatively naked when he came out of the bathroom. Goddamn, she was gorgeous, a paen to carnal lust, right there in the flesh! He took her hand and raised her up off the bed, drawing her naked body close to him. "Get some sleep, kid. I'll see you tomorrow – or rather, later today," he said, smiling down at her.

"Really?" she asked, arching her eyebrows.

"Well, sure. Maybe we'll go for a drive up and down the island!" he grinned.

"I can hardly wait," she teased back.

He surprised himself by suddenly saying, "You know something? Neither can I…"

***

Randy Ferris waited impatiently in the shadowy trees that bordered his sister's guest unit until he saw the door open and Davie's father started down the path along the beach for home. He had been scared to death of seeing Knight on the way, after he left the dude's deflowered daughter to her sweet – and sexy dreams! He had given her something to dream about, all right! And she had given him plenty to tell Trish! He couldn't get over how much that little doll baby had changed while he was fucking her. She'd been nothing but a tight-assed, naive cherry school-girl when they'd watched her old man giving it to Trish, and later, when he'd tried to talk her into letting him fuck her. But once he had his cock up her pussy, she'd undergone a Goddamned transformation to rival any in the world! She almost broke his pecker with that hot, sweet body of hers, fucking him back like a tigress – like Trish, for chrissake! That was really saying something. And then she'd really blown his mind afterwards, when he was apologizing to her, buttering her up so she wouldn't squeal to her old man, asking her to forgive him for raping her! "When can we do it again?" she asks,when can we do it again! Geezus!

He grinned to himself. All that sweating for nothing – he should have known it would all be cool. Chicks didn't take ol' Randy's cock inside their bellies just once without wanting it up there again and again!

He walked up to the door and knocked softly. "Trish… it's me. Hail the conquering hero, home from the war…" She met him as he opened the door. His gorgeous sister was wearing a confident smile – and that was all!

"Come in, you beautiful hunk," she said to him, wrapping her graceful arms around his neck, "and tell your ever-lovin' sister all!" He did. He told her everything in minute detail as he took off his clothes and got into the big bed with her. He told her all about Davie Knight between hot, tonguing kisses, and as he sucked her breasts. He told her how he had practically raped the frightened brunette as he lay between her legs with his cock plugged into her pussy. He told her how the young virgin had suddenly gone wild and fucked him back, as his beautiful blonde sister returned his heated thrusts with masterful thrusts of her own… until they came together on the bed, each body part of a synchronized machine… each lapsing into memories of the exciting first encounters with the very sexy, very promising father-daughter team.

Then Trish told Randy what had happened with Peter Knight – how he had sodomized her, then made her suck his cock… (She was sucking Randy's cock as she related her tale of mistreatment.) After she finished blowing her brother, she let him in on her latest plan a way to have her fucking cake and eat it, too! The youth's heavy lidded eyes widened with apprehension. "Trish, you're out of your mind. Knight is never going to go for that! You're really asking for trouble this time," he said incredulously.

She gave him one of her wiser-than-thou smiles as she snuggled next to him and drew the sheet over their tired, spent bodies. "Wait and we, lovey… Just wait and see…"

CHAPTER TEN

A radiant, refreshed Davie Knight awoke around 9:30 the next morning from a deep and delicious sleep. God, she felt great! Absolutely marvelous. Her cheeks glowed and her eyes sparkled; she was exquisitely healthy…

She sat up in bed clutching her bent knees to her chest. A satisfied smile played constantly around her full, sensuous lips. Over and over she kept thinking to herself, I'm a woman now – a real woman! I'm not just a scared kid in school any more… I'm a woman! I've had a man's warm, wonderful penis inside me… I've been made love to – fucked – by a man, and I want to have it again. Oh, I can't wait to have Randy's big beautiful cock inside me again!

She giggled girlishly to herself as she thought how wicked it was of her to have such blatant desires. No wonder Trish said the things she did yesterday at the beach – she's had it hundreds of times probably and really loves it and needs it. And Daddy, too, and probably even more, because he's a man, and men always seem to be horny! That's just the way they were built. Besides, Daddy is such a strong, handsome, virile man… it was easy to see why Trish wanted him to make love to her…

Davie reviewed the scene in Trish's room, with the two of them naked and screwing wantonly. She was no longer shocked or upset by what she had witnessed. She understood now what made them go at each other like, well, not like animals exactly, but like two people who were just ready turned on and had to have each other. Sure, she could get behind that, and she didn't feel any more animosity toward Trish, no disappointment with her father. She knew she could face him now, because each of them had secrets they couldn't share with the other… not yet, anyway.

Thoughts of her father suddenly caused her to turn and look in his direction. He was lying on his side in the big bed, sound asleep. Poor lamb, he's pooped, she thought sympathetically. He must have had quite a night of it!

Her heart swelled with pride as she thought of her strong, handsome daddy making love to Trish Byers. He's got to be a fantastic lover, with that heavenly body, and that enormous penis of his… it must have felt so good to Trish… Daddy's wonderful thing deep inside her… what would it be like to feel all that cock stuffed inside her?

Davie suddenly realized that she had been thinking of herself… her and her daddy! What was the matter with her? She must be nuts, sick, to think a thing like that! Good God – her own father… her daddy, her daddy's penis!

She got up quickly and pulled a pair of shorts and a halter top out of the drawer, tore off her shortie pajamas and dressed in a flash. Then she tiptoed past her father's bed into the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth and splashed water on her face. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror as she combed her hair. Yes, she looked like a real woman now…

A phone call to Benny, the maitre d', brought a kitchen assistant to the house in less than fifteen minutes. He arrived in a golf cart with a huge tray of covered dishes. Davie gave him a dollar and thanked him effusively, aware that the young man's dark eyes roamed her body with barely concealed interest. He hadn't paid much attention to her before, it seemed. Did he think she looked like a real woman too?

She went outside to gather a few of the more fragrant island wildflowers that grew in the sandy ground. There wasn't much, but she made a clever little bouquet from what she could find and placed them in a little glass pot she found in the cupboard. Then she placed the pot on the serving tray and took it into the bedroom where her beloved father still lay fast asleep.

Putting the tray down on the large, low night stand next to the bed, she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. He stirred and brought his hand up to his face as though to brush away a fly. Davie giggled. Then she repeated the kiss, this time letting her lips linger for a second longer. "Wake up, lazy bones. Rise and shine," she whispered in his ear.

Peter Knight was dreaming about Trish Byers – and about his daughter.

He was lying naked on a bed with two naked serving girls offering him platters of sumptuous food. The platters hid their faces. At his silent command, both women brought the silver trays before him, exposing their beautiful, lusting faces – Trish… and Davie! Then the girls formed a human bridge across his body and began to kiss each other. He caressed both their bodies with his fingertips, marveling at the softness of their skin… the incredible feel of their breasts on his hairy chest. His cock was rigidly erect. He pushed the women apart and sat up between them. Everything was in slow motion. Trash straddled him and slid backward towards his cock, lifting her body languorously and lowering it closer and closer to his throbbing malehead. But just as she was about to impale herself on has scalding rod, she suddenly took on the form and face of his daughter! He immediately went soft, and Davie chided him: "Get it up, Daddy! Get it up!" She reached down and shook him by the shoulders, rubbing her lithe young body against his groin, making him swell to instant hardness again. "Get it up, Daddy… Daddy, get it up!"

"Daddy, get up. Get up, Daddy!" Davie shouted to him as she shook his broad shoulder as best she could with her small hand. His eyes flew open and he shook his head, trying to clear his muddled brain of the erotic dream. Much to his dismay, he had a huge erection. It was damned lucky he was lying on his side!

"Davie, what are you doing here?" he asked dumbly.

"I live here, silly. Remember?" she said with a little ripple of laughter. "Gee, you sure are hard to wake up. But you have to now; your breakfast won't stay hot forever, you know."

"Breakfast?" The smell of scrambled eggs and ham and strong, hot coffee wafted unto his nostrils. He turned to her. She was learning over him, reaching for another pillow to prop behind his head. Mutely he raised himself up, catching sight of her bobbing young breasts as she plumped the two pillows together behind him. He looked up into her face – she was so fresh, so wholesome, so Goddamn sexy.

The lithe brunette beauty smiled lovingly at her bewildered father. "I hope you won't be mad at me, Daddy. I wanted to serve you breakfast in bed, so I had them send it up from the dining room," she said brightly, then added, "you're not mad, are you?"

He grinned at her reassuringly. "Course not, honey. How could I possibly be mad at that? I think this is the first time in my life I've ever been served breakfast in bed by a beautiful young lady; it's not even my birthday!"

"Well, it won't be the last time, I can promise you that… not as long as I'm here!" she added. Then she stopped short, looking at him anxiously. "I will be here, won't I, Daddy?"

"Yes, darling. You'll be here. You can count on that."

"Oh, Daddy… I love you so much!" she said, grabbing him around the neck and hugging his face tightly to her yielding bosom. He was so good, so fine, so human… how could she have been so confused and tormented when she saw him doing something as natural as making love, her wonderful daddy…?

They ate breakfast together then, with Davie sitting on the edge of the bed, chattering brightly about all sorts of things the two of them could do together. Very casually he inquired about Randy Ferris, and how long the blonde youth had stayed.

"Oh, just a little while, Daddy. He didn't want to make you mad, because he wants to take me for a swim…" she said, concentrating on the marmalade she was spreading on her toast with unusual determination.

"That's nice," the handsome man said absent-mindedly. He was watching Davie's firm little breast jostle against its twin under her green print halter. "Sure, I suppose you could go for a swim with him sometime… His mind screamed, No! I don't want that raunchy little bastard to see Davie in a bikini! What if he persuades her to take it off, the way Trish did?"

"Could I, Daddy?" she asked, looking up hopefully at him.

"Absolutely."

"Oh, great! Thank you, Daddy. He's coming to pick me up at 11:00."

"What! That's out of the question. You… you got too much sun yesterday. You can put that swimming business off until tomorrow or the next day!" he sputtered.

Davie looked at him, disappointment and dismay plainly evident in her lovely face. "Daddy! What's the matter? Why don't you want me to go swimming with Randy Ferris?" she asked him plaintively.

"I… I didn't say you couldn't go swimming with him, honey. It's just… well, Randy is a lot older than you are. He's not exactly a boy any more…" Peter Knight cleared his throat self-consciously.

Oh, don't I know that he isn't a boy anymore! Davie thought triumphantly to herself. He's a man… just like you are, Daddy!

"And I'm not exactly a little girl any more, Daddy," she protested. "You have to realize that. I can't stand to be treated like a child. That's just the way Mother treats me, as I told you. I didn't think you were going to do the same…"

She had him now, and he knew it all too well. What could he say? He had no choice but to give her her way and hope to God she had enough fortitude to resist that brash, good-looking Ferris kid. Shit! Having a luscious teenage daughter around was a helluva lot tougher than he imagined.

"OK. OK, sweetheart. I concede. Just watch yourself, Davie. Randy is a pretty smooth operator."

"He is…?" she asked, feigning surprise and disbelief. Her hazel eyes sparkled with the faintest glimmer of artfulness. She placed a warm hand on his and smiled at him sympathetically. "Don't worry, Daddy dear… Everything's going to work out fine… just fine…"

***

As soon as they were out of sight and racing away from the resort, Randy reached across the stick shift and placed a warm hand on Davie's bare thigh, giving it a knowing squeeze that caused the young girl to jump in the bucket seat. She looked over at him and he gave her one of his slow, sexy smiles. She sent him one of her own. They both broke out laughing then, and Randy stepped on the accelerator of the red MG and roared down the island road in the hot sun. Davie really did look fantastic today; better than she had ever looked. There was something different about her, more mature. She seemed to have blossomed over-night. If she's like this after one fast fuck, what's she going to be like after a long, leisurely one? he wondered. Christ! She's going to give Trish some tough competition!

He drove all the way to the point at the southern end of the island and parked the convertible in a narrow grove of trees. Then they both got out of the sports car and walked hand and hand onto the beach. He was wearing a pair of cut-off jeans over his trunks, and a white tee shirt. Davie admired his legs as he spread an old blanket on the shimmering sand. Her pussy began to tingle with anticipation as she thought of his virile young cock and the fucking she knew she would get. What was happening to her? She was becoming as horny as a guy!

"Would m'lady care to be seated?" he asked, making a courtly bow and stretching out a muscular arm towards the blanket. Davie laughed. "My pleasure," she answered in a British accent, as she dropped to her knees on the worn bed cover. Randy sat down beside her. He reached into his back pocket and carefully pulled something out, holding it up for her to see. It was a joint of marijuana… Davie's eyes widened. "Where did you get that?" she asked naively.

"Santa left it in my stocking. He came by a few days early," he joked. Davie grinned sheepishly. "You nut!" she told him.

He lit up then, drawing the smoke into his lungs in quick inhalations. He closed his lips and wrinkled his brow as he held the pungent smoke inside for several seconds. He took one more toke, then handed it to her.

Davie hadn't smoked pot often. She just had never gotten into it that much. But she wasn't about to let him know that. So she mimicked his style, and drew the hot smoke into her lungs. The next moment she was choking and coughing, her eyes watering from the harsh stinging in her throat. It wasn't the best grass in the world!

Randy couldn't help laughing at her. For a moment, she looked like a little girl again. It was obvious that she was embarrassed as hell. He took the joint from her and dragged deeply on it again. She held out her fingers, determined not to look like a juvenile who couldn't handle it. Randy smiled slyly. She was taking the bait, all right. Not that he had to get her stoned in order to fuck her – he had already proved that. But he had something else in mind; something she might be a little more reluctant to try. He wanted her to suck his cock! He would be the first guy to fuck her in the mouth, too! And if all went as he planned it, he'd have her asshole cherry before the day was out!

Davie inhaled the narcotic cigarette daintily, in short puffs, unwilling to risk another coughing fit. She was already beginning to feel lightheaded. She felt floaty, as though her limbs were weightless. She had an unexplainable urge to giggle. And she did. She took a few more short pulls on the intoxicating weed before she handed it back to Randy.

When there was nothing left except a tiny hollow tube of paper, Randy deposited it in his mouth, swallowed it and stood up to take off his clothes. She thought that was very funny. She laughed and laughed. She couldn't stop laughing. "You ate the roach! You ate it!" she said over and over again.

Randy thought to himself, Yeah, baby, and you're going to eat it, too. And it ain't gonna be a roach! "C'mon, doll, take off your clothes. You haven't lived 'til you've gone skinny dippin' stoned."

That sounded like a marvelous idea. Without hesitation, she rose unsteadily to her feet and started to untie her halter top. Randy walked slowly over to her. "Here, I'll do that," he said. There was something so masterful about him. He knew how to take charge of things, and she obediently turned around while he untied the knot at her neck, then did the same to the one at her waist. The skimpy garment fen away from her body and floated limply to the ground like a sad little flag. She stood there watching it, giggling at it, until she felt Randy's hands slip around her from behind and grab her bare boobs in his masculine hands. He pulled her back against him and she drew in her breath sharply as her back came in contact with his smooth, broad chest and his hands roamed over her naked, sensitive breasts.

"Ooooohhhhh," she moaned softly, closing her eyes to the wonderful sensations his hands were creating in her. The sun shone hotly on her skin, melting her, turning her into jelly. Her pussy became a bowl of warm, sticky jelly. She was aware of something hard and demanding pressing into her buttocks, between the cheeks of her ass… his penis… Randy's hard, sturdy penis…

She was very turned on, and she leaned back even further into him, with her arms dangling at her sides, in a shameless and wanton posture of submission. She was ready to make love now; she wanted it right now. Why didn't he fuck her now?

Randy's hands moved down her sleek belly and found the zipper of her shorts. Deftly, he unzipped them and began to work them down over her flaring hips. Davie wriggled her ass against him to assist him with the stopping. She giggled again. Her brain was dazed and her attitude incoherent. She could have cared less if there were an ocean liner full of camera-clicking spectators anchored out in the sea. In fact, she sort of wished there were…

The shorts lay puddled at her feet. Next, Randy slipped his hands inside her filmy panties, reaching along her bare skin until he touched her silky crop of pubic hair. She moaned again, breathless at his exciting touch as he gently fingered the pad of curls and cupped her pussy mound in one of his dampish palms. Yessssss… oh, yessssss, do that! she screamed wordlessly. The sounds evaporated in her throat. But her squirming body and raspy breathing got the message across. The wily blonde youth smiled confidently to himself. Snickered silently, was more like it.

The panties came down her hips and thighs and calves to commingle with the shorts and halter. She was an island in a little sea of clothing. She thought that funny also.

"Let's go for a swim," Randy whispered in her pretty ear. He followed up the suggestion with his tongue, flicking it inside to tickle the highly sensitive orifice. Davie almost collapsed from the sensation. Oh God, oh how she wanted him to fuck her now. He was driving her insane. All she could think of was his juicy cock plundering her steaming vaginal depths. How could he thank of anything else?

"A swim?" she echoed weakly. "Now?"

"Yeah, right now. I want to get it over with so I can come back up here and eat your sweet little pussy!"

Oh, God, did he ready mean that? She was dazed by his lewd suggestion, and she followed mutely as he led her by the hand down to the edge of the water, his long, powerful cock jutting out ahead of him. His backside reminded her of some of the statues of Greek Gods she had seen at a museum, his muscles ripping as he walked, his physique, perfect. Yes, he was a statue come to life, leading her down to the glassy, azure sea.

It was an incredible experience to swim like that – naked and stoned, and horny. She mostly floated, letting her glossy, long hair fan out on the water like the tentacles of an octopus. Suddenly she felt a rude splash of water on her face as Randy swam up beside her and sent a deliberate shower of sea water in her direction. She flailed and sputtered and began to tread water. She splashed him back and they played like porpoises for a while. Then he dived down under the water, and under her legs and grabbed her pussy with his mouth! She screamed and fell backwards. Before she had a chance to gather her wits, the strong, sexy youth appeared in front of her and pushed her head down with his hand… down under the water… down to his loins, to his genitals! It lasted only a moment, then he pulled her back up again, but the moment had served to implant a portent of things to come – of things to cum! God, did he really expect her to do that? Noooooo – that was dirty, perverted. She couldn't possibly do that! She wouldn't take him in her mouth, the way she had seen her mother doing it to that disgusting fairy!

His little "test" provided Randy with exactly the reaction he expected. The look of panic on Davie's face was ample witness to her prejudice. Moments like them were made to order for Randy Ferris; he liked nothing better than a sexual challenge from a gorgeous female.

"Sorry, honey. That was an accident," he apologized convincingly. "Want to go dry off?" He grinned at her and paddled nearer, so that their bodies were touching under the salty, caressing water. Desire was the undercurrent that carried them onto shore.

Davie flopped heavily to the sand. Her brain was reeling. Fuzzy distorted images of Randy, her father and Trish glided across the ceding of her mind like reflections in a row of carnival mirrors. The sun burned bleeding white bans of liquid heat into her closed eyes as she lay sprawled on her back. The air was very still, except for the sound of respiration. There was a persistent fluttering in her belly.

She was dimly aware of movement next to her, of the wet, bare flesh very close to her body. Randy was moving around on the blanket, brushing against her body as he shifted his body. She suddenly felt his bare hands on her salty skin, his fingers touching her magically, lightly all over her body. He was stroking her skin, his fingers turned into feathers. She turned to gooseflesh and her body began to tingle everywhere. Her pussy throbbed with desire. Involuntarily, she opened her legs a little wider, feeling the caressing heat of the sun on her naked pussy, on the still little nubbin that was her clitoris.

Randy shifted again on the blanket, his hands still fluttering over her skin like an army of butterflies. Then she felt a scant shower of cool water on her thighs and belly. She flinched from the sudden sprinkling, but she was caught by the torpor that engulfed her. So relaxed, six lazy, so filled with delightful sensations that she couldn't muster the energy to open her eyes.

The sexy youth had crawled between her legs and lay on his belly, his face inches away from her enticing coral pussy slit, where the blushing little button of delight peeked out from between the dewy lips. God, what an edible little cunt she had. This is going to be pure heaven, licking that tasty pink furrow, he thought to himself.

He moved nearer and without spreading her lips apart, suddenly thrust his tongue out and flicked her clitoris. Davie started as though she had been touched by a hot ware. "Uuunngghh!" she gasped, her eyes flying open instantly. Randy!

The good-looking boy grinned up at her from under his sleepy, sexy eyes. A shock of wet, blonde hair was matted over his eyebrow. He wagged his tongue obscenely at her. Then, without a word, he reached up under her bare ass cheeks and elevated her with his hands, spreading her pussy lips with his thumbs, exposing her ripe cunt meat to his wanton, lustful gaze. His rock-hard cock throbbed beneath him. Hot damn! he swore to himself, I really want to eat her little pussy. I can't wait any longer!

And he didn't. He sent his tongue into her pulsating furrow with dispatch, wasting not time, but drawing the delicious flesh into his mouth as though it were a succulent little breast. He licked and lapped and sucked her, running his tongue up and down and around her juicy slit, unable to get enough of the sweetly pungent sex flesh. He rolled around on his cock, feeling that he could almost cum from the sheer excitement of eating this beautiful kid's tender box. No wonder Trish freaked out when she sucked Davie off. This had to be the best piece of pussy pie he had ever eaten – every bit as tasty as Trish's.

Davie groaned and flailed on her back, her wet hair slapping the hot, dry blanket beneath her. She thought she would go mad from the insane licking; she felt she would go right out of her mind from the rapturous excitement in her heated loins and stomach. Ohhhh, oh Goooodddd! She had never been eaten like this before! His lips, his tongue, his mouth, working her pussy flesh like that, sucking it so beautifully, so maddenly well. A feeble finger of conscience admonished her for allowing the youth to feast so wantonly on her nether parts, but she waved it away from her mind. No, she had to have it; she didn't want it to end ever! She couldn't stop him now; her body controlled her will, and her body said, "Onward!"

A paddle, a long, smooth, slick, broad paddle stirring in her cauldron of molten lust, churning the sensate flesh around and around and around and…

"Uuuuuuuunnnn… uuuuunnn… uuuuwuwunnnnnn!!!" She felt the rumblings deep inside her body… rumblings which grew louder and more violent until she was shaking like a volcanic mountain. Coals of fire erupted from the core of her being and rained down on her flesh, and her nerves sizzled like cold water on a hot griddle. Her cuntal juices turned to liquid fire and gushed onto Randy's lips and tongue and flowed like lava, down to her anal crevice. Her body danced with jolts from a thousand live wires. She screamed out her ecstasy as she came and came and came…

Geezus Christ! This chick is one for the books! She sure as hell doesn't have to take a back seat to Trish, that's for damned sure! Randy remarked to himself as he continued to lap at the young beauty's pussy until she finally begged him to stop. She almost passed out from the sensations that emanated from between her legs. Never had she been so thoroughly, so satisfyingly tongue fucked.

The sun-drugged, sex-drugged, narcotized young girl lapsed into a near-comatose state, wallowing in the delicious tingling sensations that pervaded her body. She was barely cognizant of Randy's movement now… that he had crawled from between her legs and inched up along side of her, his huge prick preceding him like some pagan battle standard. His eyes glowed with fevered anticipation and insatiable lust. He kneeled beside her head and leaned down to kiss her wantonly on the mouth, pressing his tongue between her unresisting lips and deep inside her mouth.

Davie drew in her breath at the unexpected assault on her mouth, tasting her own pussy juices mixed with the briny essence of saltwater. Benumbed as she was, she felt another little tremor of renewed excitement flutter through her spent loins, and an audible sigh escaped past Randy's engulfing lips. Then he drew away from her, and she felt the absence of his lips; she wanted them on her mouth again…

Suddenly they were back… he was rubbing his mouth across her lips… so soft… soft delicate mouth rubbing back and forth, back and forth, but differently. There was something different in the way it felt… softer than his lips… softer than a baby's skin… so delicately soft, but firm, too. Why was it different this time?

Her eyes fluttered opened then squinted against the light. Oh God – she was staring right at the huge, erect penis, at the blood-engorged, glistening-tipped cock of Randy Ferris! That's what it was that she felt on her mouth – Randy's cock! Oh nooooo! Surely he didn't expect her to put that thing into her mouth!

Oh, but he did! "Davie, kiss my cock, baby. Open your lips and give it a little kiss," he urged her. His face was a mask of desire.

"Nooooo! I can't. I can't do that," she insisted, turning her face away and closing her eyes again.

"Sure you can, honey. You know you want to, deep down inside… just like you really wanted me to fuck your little pussy last night. Wouldn't you like to know what it feels like to have it in your mouth, honey?"

There was a tremor of excitement in his husky voice. He leaned over her again and pressed his instrument against her lips, while he placed his right hand on her bare, upthrust breast and began to massage the sensitive flesh expertly.

"No! Take it away from me," she protested, but there was slightly less conviction in her voice. The familiar stirrings of desire were back in her body, and she found herself becoming curious. What would it taste like, she wondered. Randy was such a beautiful, sexy man not like that disgusting fruit with her mother…

"Sure, baby, if that's the way you feel about it," he answered a tone of annoyance. He rolled over and lay flat on his back, placing his hands behind his head. "It's OK with you if I eat your pussy, if I stick my tongue in your snatch and suck you unto you cum all over my mouth… that's fine, isn't it?" he said contemptuously. "But when the ball is in your court, you don't want to play!"

"It's not that, Randy, it's just that… well…"

"Forget it, sweetheart. I get the message. We'd just skip the oral stuff from now on – both of us. I mean, it's too bad, a damned shame, really – I could acquire a real taste for that sweet little cunt of yours… but, it wouldn't be fair to either of us, would it? One-way streets always lead to resentments, don't they?"

The clever youth made his point – in spades. Davie felt a seizure of panic as she considered Randy's threat he didn't intend to go down on her again… not unless she "played bag"…

She was wavering, torn by a desire to please this man, her first male lover who had already given her so much pleasure. She couldn't bear to think of it coming to an end, or being something less than complete. Yet, she felt frightened and repulsed at the thought of putting his rigid member into her mouth; she kept seeing her mother blowing that horrible faggot. Besides, she'd never done it before. How do you do it? She didn't want to make a fool of herself. But Randy was right, she knew: turn about's fair play. She sighed heavily and turned to him, letting her arm rest on his chest.

She snuggled closer, wanting him to put a reassuring arm around her, but he continued to lay sprawled on his back with his arms behind his head, his eyes closed and his face expressionless.

She put her head on his chest. Still no reaction. He was mad at her! She looked down his body, which was elongated from her perspective. Her drugged brain saw him as a column of flesh stretched out like a sun bronzed Plastic Man in the comic books. His erect cock was thrust in the air like an angry middle finger of disdain. Slowly she let her fingers slide down his chest, down his belly, down to has sparse forest of crisp, dark blonde pubic hair… Randy's prick bobbed in welcome to her hand. She paused there.

"I… I don't know how to do it, Randy. I've never done it before," she said haltingly.

"Done what?" he asked dryly. (He knew perfectly well what she was talking about. He had to suppress a self-satisfied smile.)

"Put a man's thing into my mouth… kissed it." She was grateful that he could not see her face embarrassment was written all over it.

"Oh, that…" he said nonchalantly, "just forget it, honey. Forget I ever asked you to kiss it, or lick it, or take it in your mouth…"

"No, Randy. I want to do it for you. I don't want to be a one-way street," she answered firmly, but in a lithe girl voice. "Only you have to tell me what to do…"

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Peter Knight stole another long glance at his passenger as they drove south along the narrow, two-way road in his sleek silver Porsche. Trish had greeted him wearing the briefest and sexiest of black bikinis and a thin gold chain around her neck. She was all smiles, and gave no indication that she bore any resentment towards him for his callous treatment of her the night before. She looked so Goddamned exciting, so sensual, that he had torn off his own swim trunks and fucked her right then, this time treating her like a partner and not a whore. He felt he couldn't get enough of her.

Now, scanning her bikini-clad body again, he found his cock once more straining under his trunks as his eyes roved over the generous expanse of breast flesh that was revealed above the skimpy top, and the smooth, flat belly, her golden thighs and long, beautiful legs. She wanted to go to the point, she said… she had been there before… the beach was secluded and the water warmest there…

His thoughts weighted his right foot and the Porsche went faster, accelerating with the increase of his desire.

"What's the rush, lover?" she teased, giving him one of her sexy, all-knowing looks. She placed her hand on his sun-warmed thigh, adding another ten miles an hour to the gauge.

Finally, they rounded a bend where the highway narrowed into a dusty road. The handsome resort owner shifted down and let the Porsche slow to a crawl to minimize the fallout created by the grooved, Michelin tires. He suddenly jammed on the brakes when he spotted Randy's red MG parked in a shaded turnout about 75 yards ahead. Trish saw the little red sports car, too. It was there, thank God… just as she had planned it!

"What the hell?" Peter said, his brow furrowed in a frown.

"Looks like somebody beat us to it… to the point, that is," Trish sad slyly. "What a coincidence…"

A sense of dread creeped over Davie's father. What the fuck was she doing way out here? Why had Randy brought her here for a swim unless… Christ, why had he allowed her to go with that kid anyway? He should have known better…

"Oh well, we might as well go for swim with them, lover. Then we can find another spot of our own…" the scheming blonde said casually. "It'll be fun to surprise them."

Peter didn't answer. His jaw was set and the frown deepened on his forehead. From force of habit, he grabbed the ignition keys and tucked them into a shallow pocket inside the waistband of his trunks. Then he got out and walked purposefully towards the beach, leaving the cocksure stewardess to follow in his wake.

As he got closer and closer to the stretch of white sand, his scowl deepened and his apprehension increased. He was close to the clearing now, and he peered out into the water, looking for splashing young bodies, hoping to see his precious daughter cavorting in the crystalline ocean with the devil-may-care young buck. Instead, his heart sickened as he heard sounds, grunting animal sounds on the beach. He stopped short. Oh no! God, no! his mind screamed. Those sounds could only mean one thing! It was like a grisly replay of the shocking scene he had witnessed twenty four hours ago, on another beach. Only this time, it wasn't a female – it was Randy Ferris. God, what was he doing to little Davie?

Randy Ferris wasn't doing anything to little Davie – little Davie was doing it to him!

A startled, disbelieving gasp burst from Peter Knight's throat as he took a few steps further and his eyeballs ran smack into the sight of Randy Ferris lying on his back with his arms stretched out at his sides, getting his cock sucked royally by DARLING LITTLE DAVIE!

He swayed on his feet, as though he had been hit by a battering ram, and stared in utter stupefaction at the carnal sight. He closed his eyes, but he couldn't close out the reality of what was happening on the beach blanket. It was horribly, brutally real… Davie was sucking the bastard's cock, and doing it with obvious enjoyment, of her own free will…

"Jesus Christ," the older man felt his cock lurch into hardness as he watched his teenage daughter sucking wetly at the cum-filled cock of the young, teenage boy!

The shocked and anguished father fought to sort out his thoughts, to collect his reason and do what a concerned parent would do in such a situation. He wanted to rush forward, to teat Davie away from the kid's loins and rip his privates right out of his groin. He wanted to kill the sonofabitch and give Davie the beating if her life. But he knew he couldn't do that. The one unassailable fact of the matter was that Davie was sucking the kid's cock of her own free will! That was obvious. She was turned on as hell, mewling over him with unintelligible slurping calls from deep in her throat, gnawing at him like a dog with a bone, pulling on the this casing of his long, rigid prick as though it were a lollipop; as though she couldn't get enough of it!

His eyes were fastened on his daughter's naked, twisting form that glistened with sweat in the early afternoon sunlight as she worked slavishly over the bronzed loins of Trish's kid brother. Davie… Davie, my precious little girl, what's happened to you? Why are you taking a man's penis in your sweet little mouth… your beautiful, innocent mouth? Oh God, you're so beautiful, darling, your face, your body, with its baby-soft buttocks, your perfect little breasts swaying there… your delicate little pussy, with its soft, soft hair…

Reflexively, the tormented father took a step forward, blind panic seizing him as the impact of his carnal desire struck him with the force of a wrecking ball. His cock was hard and throbbing wildly in his swim trunks. He was excited… excited by the lewd sight on the beach! His own daughter! Oh God, he was sick, he'd lost control! Noooooooo!

The devil danced in his head, goading him to make love to his own daughter! Yes, his love for Davie was not platonic and paternal – it was carnal… it was the sexual love of a man for a beautiful woman! And Davie was a woman he couldn't kid himself about that any more. She was the woman he wanted more than anyone in the world. He wanted to possess her body, to feel her mouth on his cock, to feel himself inside her tender pussy. He let out an agonized moan of self-reproach. But he couldn't help himself, now. He couldn't! He was past all redemption, past all caring, as torrents of desire swept over him.

Vaguely, for his eyes were fixed on Davie, Peter was aware that he was not alone. The warm body of Trish Byers pressed against his arm. "Looks like she's enjoying it, doesn't it?" she cooed into his ear in her honeyed voice. "I hope you're not too upset…"

"Upset! How could I possibly be upset, watching my only daughter suck the begeezus out of your brother's cock!" He ground the words out at her through a clenched jaw.

"No Peter, you shouldn't let it throw you. After all, Davie's not a little girl any more. It's time she found out what men are an about, don't you think? Unless, of course, you're jealous…"

"Jealous?"

"Yes, honey. Why else would you have a big hard-on?" she said sultrily, reaching down to squeeze his granite-like prick and his bloated balls. "You want your darling little daughter ax for yourself, don't you?" she droned on. "But that's so selfish. That wouldn't be fair to Davie, would it?"

She was playing with his cloth-encased genitals. He didn't move. His brain was reeling as he watched with perverse fascination the lurid scene between his sensual daughter and the blonde vamp's brother. Trish droned on again as she slipped her slender fingers down inside the elastic cloth and came in contact with his bare cock. She used her thumb to spread the syrupy seminal ooze an around the helmeted head, and under the ridge, where she knew he would be most sensitive. "I know how much you want to be lying on that blanket right now, with Davie's soft mouth around your big, hard prick… sucking and sucking and sucking. I know how much you love to be sucked, Peter. Remember how I sucked you off last night, after you fucked my ass so hard? You'd like to fuck that sweet ass of your daughter's, too… wouldn't you? Wouldn't you just love to shove that great big hot prick of yours in her tight little asshole? Of course… you're only human, baby. I understand that. Yes, you'd like to fuck your darling little girl in the ass, almost as much as you'd like to fuck her juicy little pussy. Oh, yes, you're dying to fuck her hot, precious cunt, aren't you. Look at the way she's got it stuck up in the air, just crying for her daddy's hard cock…"

A low, tortured, guttural sound purled from the lust-crazed man, signaling to Trish that her mission was as good as accomplished. She slipped deftly out of her bikini and pressed her naked breasts against his bare arm, rubbing the nipples over his hairy, muscular flesh. Then she began kissing him on the neck and throat with her hot, moist lips as she hooked her thumbs inside his trunks and worked them down his hips until they dropped on the sandy ground. Then she took his hard prick in both her hands and rubbed it lightly up and down, pressing her body into his back and his solid flanks, rubbing her pussy up against has ass. Then she began to nudge him forward, toward the blanket where his beloved Davie sucked voraciously on Randy's cock, saying: "Go on, Peter… go fuck your beautiful daughter… you know you want to, you know you want her. Everybody wants to fuck darling little Davie…"

CHAPTER TWELVE

Young Davie Knight was thoroughly caught up in the sucking of Randy's cock. Her eyes were cloud and her head bobbed up and down furiously as she reveled in the taste and feel of her handsome lover's throbbing member. Her energetic sucking of the pistoning prick in her mouth and the guttural barks that came from her lovely throat all testified to that. I like it, I love it… ooohhhh, his big, beautiful penis feels so wonderful in my mouth, I never thought anything this wicked could feel so good… I'm just like Trish now, a sensual woman… I'm really a real woman now… ooohhh…

Randy thrust his hands in her hair and flexed his hips upward battering the back of her throat with his cock as he strained for completion. Davie made no move to pull back from the intense pressure, but ovalled her tender lips even tighter around his penis, impatient to feel the white, creamy load of sperm in her aching young throat. She mewled and moaned like a depraved animal, totally abandoned to the lust that engulfed her like a naming shroud. Her pussy was quivering with her wet, cuntal ooze and she wagged her buttocks in the air like a female cat in heat, as she crouched over the prostrate youth.

Randy was moaning in excited cadence now, staring down at the dark haired beauty who was slavishly working his cock with her lips. He could see her taut, firm breasts sway and dance from her chest as she posted on his prick with her mouth. The pressure of his captive cum constricted his testicles painfully, the twin blocks of desire slapping rudely against her chin as though to say, "Hurry up!"

Davie began to nibble the petal-soft casing of his blood-engorged cock as though it were a delicacy, a treat. She wanted all of it in her mouth, wanted to make him cum, wanted to taste his hot seed.

Dimly, through his impassioned lust, Randy became aware of vibrations on the beach… coming closer… and closer. Then, his face going pale with horror, he was looking at the solid figure of Peter Knight, who was less than five feet away! Trish was right behind him – sonofabitch, if she didn't do it after all; she brought Davie's old man here, just like she said she would, and he's naked as a jaybird with the biggest Goddamned hard-on I've ever seen! Oh man, don't fail me now, Trish! You got here two minutes too soon!

But Randy's fears were needless; Peter Knight looked right past him, as though he didn't exist. He saw only his daughter, say only her beautiful sweat-sheered body, her firm, full breasts, her quivering, upturned buttocks. He stumbled over to her and kneeled beside her, touching her on the shoulder with his big hand. "Davie, Davie…" he called to her in a quavering voice.

The familiar, authoritarian voice cut through the fog of her passion like a knife. She opened her eyes and loosened her oral hold on Randy's cock, turning in the direction of the voice. Oh, God… noooooo! Her daddy was right here, watching her blow Randy Ferris! He was as naked as she was!

The young girl gaped at her father, her face wet with saliva. It was only a dream, an hallucination – that grass was stronger than she realized – but no, it wasn't; Daddy was right there in the flesh! Her eyes fastened on the huge, erect penis of the man who had sired her. She agonized inwardly: Oh nooo, Daddy! I don't want you to see me like this! Why are you here, Daddy? Why are you naked? Oh God, what's happening…?

Their eyes locked, and in that moment the world seemed to dissolve around father and daughter. A mute message passed between them, a bond of love so powerful that it demanded immediate consummation in the strictest physical sense. It was a deeper love, a greater love than that between a man and a woman, because it also contained the highest essence of spiritual and paternal love, and both Davie and her father realized it in that moment; realized that they belonged to each other in every way.

Peter held his hand out to his daughter and she placed her small hand in his, and he squeezed it as he smiled at her tenderly and whispered, "I want to fuck you, Davie. I want to love you, to give myself to you, the right way. I want to be deep inside you…"

"Oooooohhhhhh, yes, Daddy, yeeeeeesss!" Davie hissed passionately. She crawled over Randy's legs and lay down on her back parallel with the frustrated youth. Then her loving father lay down on top of her, placing his weight on his elbows, and kissed her passionately on the mouth, for the first time as a lover. Their tongues curled around one another's and he stroked her nude softness as she twisted and undulated under him. He caressed her soft, fevered breasts, kneading her unblemished young flesh, her delicate nipples, until she mewled with pleasure into his mouth. Then his hand was moving down, down over her flat stomach, through the wispy pelt of her pubic hair, finally touching the erect, pulsing shaft of her clitoris. Davie whimpered in unrestrained pleasure as her father massaged the tiny, trembling bud between his thumb and forefinger, her loins beginning to grind down into the blanket in wild, uncontrolled counterpoint to her father's lewd fingering.

Now Davie reached down between their bodies and located her daddy's prick, drawing the satiny skin over the bulbous head, running her feverish fingers over every centimeter of him, then cupping his massive bans in her palm and squeezing them against one another very gently. The teenager was completely lost now in the consuming passion generated by the fondling of each other's genitals.

She breathed into her father's mouth, crying, "Daddy, do it to me now! Oh please, Daddy, do it to me now!"

"Yes! Yes, darling. Guide it with your hand, sweetheart. Put it inside you; put it inside your sweet little pussy, where it belongs…"

Davie spread her legs and thighs wide apart as her fingers dug into the moist, sleek surface of her father's penis. And then she was guiding it toward the small, moist opening of her vagina, using the bulbous head to part the soft pubic down and the pouting, fleshy lips of her sweet, tender cunt.

Trish, who was straddling her prostrate brother, was doing the same thing with her hand: guiding her brother's yearning prick deep inside her pussy as she sat on top of him, leaning into his hands with her magnificent breasts. She caught Davie's eye, and gave her a knowing grin. The flushed teenager grinned back at her – woman-to-woman.

Davie gasped aloud at the sudden electrifying contact of her loving daddy's hard organ against her damp, sensitive flesh. Knight flicked his hips lightly forward, not wanting to hurt, wanting only to delight his daughter, and the young girl felt a sharp little pain from the stretching pressure of his huge member at the tight entrance of her almost virginal orifice.

"Aaaaaahhhhhh!" she cried with mixed pain and pleasure.

"Aaaaaaoooooog!" Trish squealed with delight as brother's cock slipped into her.

Knight pushed forward again, forcing his way into the tightly clenched opening and racing along the lubricated passage and into her belly until his heavy, sperm-bloated balls smacked solidly against the upturned cheeks of her baby-soft buttocks.

"Oooooohhhhhh, Daaaaaadddyyy, Daaaaadddyyyyyy!" she wailed as he flexed his cock deep inside the tight flesh of her vaginal sheath.

He was inside her, he was fucking his own daughter's hotly sucking pussy flesh! God, she felt like velvet… He had never known such rapture. He knew his little girl loved every inch of his massive prick that was buried in her warm, wet pussy; that she loved her father deeper and truer than any woman had ever loved him.

"Oh, oh, oh, Daddy, fuck it to me hard. Fuck it to my hot little pussy hard!" the young girl screamed wildly as her father's cock pistoned deep up into her hungrily working young cunt-hole!

He began a slow, revolving motion with his pelvis, grinding his cock tightly into his daughter's naked crotch, expanding the walls of her young pussy even more, and her own buttocks were rotating even more insanely, demanding harder thrusts from her father's churning loins. He rocked above her, using short, smooth strokes, and her body reacted in kind, chills of excitement and rapture spiraling the full length of her spine as she felt the tempo of his heavy, burgeoning cock in her throbbing cuntal canal.

Next to them on the blanket, the sultry blonde and her sexy kid brother were rutting like dogs, both of them lost in the lust that sent them bucking back and forth against each other's loins.

"Oh, God, you're drowning my hot little cunt with your cum!" the salaciously writhing stewardess intoned as her own tightly milking cunt walls exploded into the wildest cum she had ever had!

Quickly, the loving father increased his pace and the length of his stroke, knowing he couldn't last much longer, feeling the volcano that was his balls about to erupt. His daughter proved to be more of a match than he had expected. She raised her wide-spread loins up to him in simultaneous rhythm to his every downward thrust as her passion-contorted young face twisted wantonly with her need and desire.

Davie began to toss her head in frenzied, abandoned ecstasy as she lay impaled on her father's rock-hard shaft, and rapturous little moans bubbled past her lips. Her father's mouth was fastened to hers again, and she sucked once more at his tongue, trying to milk it like her hotly devouring little pussy was milking his deeply pistoning cock – the brother-sister team was approaching climax.

Peter Knight increased his pace even more, deepening his thrusts as his beautiful, sexy young daughter writhed wildly beneath him, grinding her pussy up and down on his cock with incredible fury, her legs twitching, her toes curling as she lurched upwards, spreading her slender legs even wider apart and wrapping them around his broad back. He knew she was getting close and he wanted to cum with her, to feel their juices co-mingling in the ultimate expression of fulfilling love.

Suddenly, they both heard Randy's gasping admission: "I'm… I'm cuuuuummmmminnmmgig!"

"Yeeeeeesss… Ohhhhhh, cuuuuummmmm baaaaaabbbyyy. Fill meeeeeeeee," Trish answered, bouncing for all she was worth on his jettisoning cock, her blonde hair whipping across her face as she bucked and flailed her head wildly.

That did it.

Peter Knight ground his cock into the tender sanctuary of his daughter's womb and she convulsed beneath him, her mouth opening wide, her face a caricature of her normally soft and innocent young loveliness. A cry of pure, unadulterated delight, of total rapture, echoed from the very core of her young being.

"Aaaaagggggghhhhh… d-aaaaa-ddddd-yyyyy!"

Peter Knight felt his daughter's pussy walls begin to secrete their warm gushes of wet, sticky fluid around his plundering cock, inundating his shaft. She was cumming, cumming beautifully, his little girl was cumming with his cock deep in her belly! With renewed urgency, he thrust faster, deeper, with all the strength he possessed. He had to cum with her, he had to!

Suddenly he knew that his own hot sperm was about to race through his cock to fill his daughter's womb. She jerked wildly, spasming, the mouth of her cunt sucking at him feverishly. And then his orgasm struck fully and his balls erupted burning fire, causing his body to tremble like a man with palsy. His juices spurted from the opening in his prickhead deep, deep into his daughter's quivering recesses in never-ending flow, which caused her to moan in spasmodic, indecipherable cries of delight as his orgasmic fluids mixed with hers to roll around his jerking cock, fusing them together as lovers in the most ecstatic sense of the word – father and daughter cumming together in the most wonderful expression of family unity imaginable!

A long time later – an eternity later – the torrent ended and Davie's body relaxed, her legs falling limp around her daddy's thighs as he collapsed onto her. They lay there like that, not moving, not caring that there were two people lying less than a foot away from them on the blanket.

"Congratulations!" came the sultry voice of Trish Byers. Both Peter Knight and his daughter looked over at her simultaneously. She was smiling victoriously. Randy had a shit-eating grin on his face as he glanced quickly from Davie's father to the well-fucked young beauty under him. Davie flushed crimson with embarrassment at first, then she giggled nervously. Soon all four of them were chuckling over the crazy circumstances in which they found themselves; circumstances that had spiraled rapidly from the innocent encounters of less than forty eight hours ago – well, not exactly innocent, not from Trish Byers' point of view. But certainly, accidental – her meeting young Davie on the plane. She congratulated herself on another sexual mission accomplished – almost. There was still one more phase to see through, one she desperately wanted to succeed…

It ad hinged on Davie. If the scheming blonde could make the teenager see the "wisdom" of her plan, little Davie would certainly be able to convince her doting daddy. Trish had less than 24 hours – she had to be back in Nassau for an 8:00 AM flight Monday morning, which meant getting the shuttle hop tomorrow afternoon at four. She had to get Davie alone…

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"… But remember, Davie, you've got to make your father think it was all your idea – promise? I want you to get ad the credit, honey," Trish admonished the pretty young girl over the dining table. It was Saturday night, and the spacious room was crowded. Peter Knight was busy.

"I promise!" the lovely teen answered, her large hazel eyes aglow with excitement. "Oh Trish, you're a genius – and a terrific friend! I just hope Daddy will go for it."

"Sweetie, your father's so knocked out about you, he'd go for anything you asked. He'd walk on glass for you!" the crafty blonde said, smiling warmly. "And why shouldn't he go for it? It's the perfect solution to the problem; a way for you and your daddy to be together forever, with no hassles from your mother. It's the way we can an have our cake and eat it, to…!"

***

They lay there together, he with his spent cock still imbedded into her tightly clasping orifice, overflowing with love for each other, love which seeped past his now-flaccid tube onto the rumpled bedsheet. He kissed her deeply again. "I love you so much, darling," he said tenderly to you.

"Oh Daddy, I love you so much too!" she affirmed again. "And I want to be with you forever, Daddy. I never want to go back to New York…"

There was a look of pain in his eyes. Then he hugged her tightly to him. "I know, my dearest. I don't want you to go back. I couldn't bear to lose you again. It's just that… well, I haven't figured out a way to keep you here after the holidays. I've racked my brain, and everything I come up with is N.G."

"Daddy…" she began softly, "I thought of something. It's kind of extreme, but I think it could work…"

He raised his head and looked directly at her, his eyebrows raised in expectation. "Tell me!"

"Well, I was thinking that if you… if you got married again…"

"Married! Honey, I don't want a wife, I want you! Besides, that would ruin everything for us Davie." The handsome man's expression now was one of bewilderment, hurt.

"No it wouldn't, Daddy, not if you married someone like Trish…"

"Trish? But…"

"See, Trish doesn't want to get married either, because of Randy. But it would be different if she married you, because we've already made love with them anyway, and I know you do like it in bed with her and…"

"And you like it in bed with Randy, don't you?"

"Not as much as with you, Daddy – no way. But if you married Trish, everything would be respectable, and nobody would guess anything about us, and we'd be able to be together, and…"

He closed her lips with a kiss. "You're one for the books, honey! That's the wildest scheme I've ever heard! There's only small problem – two, actually. First, I'm not in love with Trish, I'm in love with you. Second, Trish isn't in love with me. What makes you think she would go for it? Oh, there's another small problem, too. What do we do about your school?"

"OK," she said excitedly, "in answer to your first question, sir, you don't have to be in love with Trish, you just have to be in lust with her – and don't tell me you're not!" she said, her eyes twinkling devilishly. "And you know Trish is in lust with you, Daddy…"

"That dame's in lust with everybody!" he interjected.

"No, not everybody. Mainly, you and Randy. Now, as far is school is concerned, Trish says there's a good one in Nassau, the English school. I could go there for the rest of the year and after that…"

"Wait a minute – did you and Trish cook this up together?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well, no… I was just telling her how much I wanted to stay, but I knew I had to go back to school, and she said if I wanted to stay with you I could go to the one in Nassau and stay with her during the week, and be with you on the weekends. You could afford that, couldn't you, Daddy?"

"Sure. That's no problem. I could even hop over there during the week…"

"Oh could you, Daddy, would you? Oh, that would be wonderful. Then it's OK? Ooohhh, Daaaaaadddyyy!" she squealed gleefully, throwing her naked arms around his neck and squeezing her firm breasts against his hairy chest. She kissed him hard on the lips, her pointed pink tongue snaking into his mouth to lave his oral member and suck it the way she had sucked his cock later on the beach that afternoon, with Trish and Randy doing some heated sixty-nine right next to them.

Peter Knight felt his penis stir to instant life again inside his daughter's velvety young pussy. She squeezed her vaginal muscles around his burgeoning prick, encouraging him once more to show his deep love for her. Wriggling her lithe young body enticingly beneath him, she looked up at her father with the most innocent, the most guileless sort of expression; one he found totally irresistible. "It is OK, isn't it Daddy? Please say you'll ask Trish to marry you and that you'll put me in the English school, so that I can stay with you forever. Please, oh please." He flexed his fully hardened cock inside her delicate cunt, reveling in the warm, buttery, tightly clenching softness of her. Then he smiled at her again. "You know something, young lady? If I didn't know you better, I'd say you've picked up a few tricks from your stepmother-to-be already!"

POSTSCRIPT

The wedding took place on December 31st, in a quaint, little church in Nassau, with Davie as Maid of Honor and Randy as Best Man. After the ceremony, Randy put his arms around the radiant bride and bridegroom's shoulders and quipped, "Isn't it great, now we're gonna be just one, big, happy fucking family!"

And they were – one big, happy, fucking family… with darlihng little Davie the center of it all!

Content

Jean Sifton
The scandalous stewardess

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

POSTSCRIPT