Maureen Quincy

Forbidden Sex Games

CHAPTER ONE

She crept like a silent ghost along the darkened hall, long blonde hair streaming out from her narrow, slender shoulders. From somewhere in the house, a clock softly chimed twice and its echoing, pinging voice-disturbing the utter stillness-made the young girl halt fearfully. Her body tensed ready for flight and her heart palpitated painfully against her ribs for a few moments, and then, drawing her nightgown more tightly around her body, she continued to cross the first floor landing.

She paused again outside the door of her father's bedroom, listening intently for any sound or movement from within, before hurrying once more towards the end of the hall and her secret objective. Her small feet, bare and soundless, quickened their pace as she climbed the thickly carpeted stairs to Richard's attic bedroom at the top of the house; and her breath came in short, urgent pants-gasps of excitement and suspense making her respiration harsh and irregular. Softly, she turned the handle and slipped into the room. She closed the door again so carefully that its catch scarcely clicked at all, then walked quietly to the bed-seeing her way by the silver shafts of moonlight which shone through the partly-closed curtains. Very gently, the girl put out her hand and drew back the covers. In one final, thankful movement, she got into the bed and snuggled against the warm, still-sleeping body of her step-brother…

Tremulously, Lisa put her arm around his waist. Richard was lying on his side, his back towards her, and he stirred uneasily as his step-sister's hand stole between the loose folds of his pyjama jacket and her fingers pressed cautiously into the flesh just above the boy's navel. She tried to stop her hand from trembling, but her whole body was now shivering-making her thoughts whirl through her brain and giving her the dizzy, light-headed sensation that she was floating in space: suspended on the bed with Richard in a timeless ocean, a black infinity of blissful contentment.

Lisa, although she was only a few months older than her half-brother, had been the instigator of their private “games”. It was she who felt irresistibly drawn to the boy's body, she who had commenced their hot, satisfying night-frolics together. A strange, overpowering magnet attracted her to Richard's bedroom-and it was a force which she couldn't disobey. When she touched him, when her hand made contact with his firm flesh in the warmth and darkness under the sheets, she experienced an almost unbearable pleasure that both excited and terrified the girl. And such a powerful emotion couldn't be denied: not, especially, when its recipient was a hot-blooded, sensual thirteen-year-old…

Lisa knew that her intimate physical relationship with Richard was forbidden. She realised, without ever having received an explicit warning, that to lie in the same bed with her step-brother-to cuddle him and explore his body with her lips and fingers-was wrong and sinful. And, instinctively, she took every precaution to keep their beautiful secret well-guarded from their father and from Miss Wynter, the Governess who had taken care of them since they were both ten years old.

Sleepily, Richard turned in the bed and slowly opened his eyes. He sighed, responding to the pressure of Lisa's arm-which had now slipped around his waist-by moving more closely to the girl.

“I didn't except you tonight", he whispered, his lips almost brushing his step-sister's, his hand-automatically and without shame-passing from his own leg, where it had been resting in a curled position against his thigh, onto Lisa's hip. “You didn't give me the special signal, did you?”

“Sshh!” Lisa put her forefinger quickly over his mouth. “Don't talk! I told you before-it spoils everything!”

She snuggled forward until their bodies were tightly together, closing her eyes and quickly working her hand under Richard's pyjama jacket so that she could touch the bare flesh of his back. Her finger fell away from his lips, and this hand began to caress the boy's face: moving lightly across his nose, his eyes and his cheeks as if she were blind and could only discern his features by touch. Richard grew hot and breathless. His mouth was dry and he ran his tongue over his lips to moisten them, as Lisa's finger caressed the soft, sensitive skin which had not yet begun to grow whiskers. Gently but insistently, she pushed at his shoulder and urged him to lie on his back. The narrow single bed creaked as Richard shifted his weight-and the boy and girl froze for an instant: the slight sound greatly amplified to their nervous ears. Then, as the complete silence of the house continued, Lisa slid her hand onto Richard's chest and unbuttoned his jacket. He quivered as she stroked the bared flesh, her fingers exploring with a curious quality of expectation-as if she had never before touched him…

The tiny bumps of his nipples were brought to erection by his step-sister's fondling; and then she passed her hand further down the front of his body, reaching the obstruction of his pyjama cord and tugging at it until the knot came loose. The white cord fell away from Richard's belly, leaving his stomach partially bare-only the long vent of his pyjama-opening keeping the boy's abdomen and genitals concealed. Lisa put her face against his shoulder. She pressed her mouth into the warm crook of his neck, her lips parting and planting hot, inexpert kisses on the skin which made Richard stir uneasily beside her; his head squirming from side to side under the tickling but pleasant sensations she was giving to him.

The front of Lisa's body was now thrust tightly against her half-brother's. She pressed her tiny, just budding breasts to the side of his body, pushing forward with her tummy to make it flatten against his hip; and her thighs' opened, sandwiching the boy's nearest leg between their warm softness and feeling his hard young muscle throbbing slightly, making her loins grow hot and strangely itchy.

Moving her hand now as if she was gliding through a beautiful, slow-motion dream, Lisa placed her palm on Richard's nude belly. The flesh contracted and the muscles tightened, his body stiffening as if it dreaded the imminent caress but could do nothing to repel it. Lisa made a choked, muffled cry against Richard's neck, her breath sobbing hotly as she slid her fingers over the fair down of his crotch and closed them around the boy's half-erect penis.

The young prick was still maturing, its flesh only just beginning to widen and lengthen to full-size; yet it could attain, and could thicken to a considerable width if it was handled properly. She tightened her fingers around the middle of the shaft and began to squeeze it in a slow, painstaking rhythm: clenching and unclenching her hand until Richard's cock swelled proudly and pulsed in a strong, urgently beating erection. Now that it was jerking so vigorously, Lisa relaxed her frigging and started to explore the shaft with the tips of her fingers. She began at the top, feeling with a sense of awe and wonder the easily adjustable foreskin that could slide over the pointed crown and stretch down almost, it seemed, to the hilt of her step-brother's exciting dickie…

Lisa could never grow tired of handling his sex. She had realised many months ago that there were so many different things she could do to it: the cock would obey every urging of her fingers, bending this way and that-springing freely back into an upright position each time she twisted the length so that it rubbed briefly against Richard's thigh-all the time throbbing in that wonderful, powerful rhythm that sent tingles of pleasure along her hand and through her body. It was so different from her own, useless little slit, Lisa thought ruefully. Although it was nice to fondle, her sex didn't have the same attraction for the girl; it seemed so limited, so incapable of being examined as thoroughly as a boy's long, thick member. So far, Lisa hadn't discovered the breathtaking possibilities which her clitoris offered to her…

But she knew that Richard loved to feel her sticky hole, and she could feel that his excitement was reaching an urgent peak; his hips thrusting up and down, his breath short and almost asthmatic in its deep, urgent panting. Generously, Lisa eased her body away from his and knelt up on the bed with her hand stretched out so that she could continue to pet and stroke his prick. Then, her body caught by the pale rays of moonlight, she guided Richard's fingers to the front of her nightgown and waited while he feverishly unfastened the long row of buttons.

When the pink cotton nightie was loose enough, Lisa shrugged her shoulders quickly and made the garment slide down in a swift rustling to her knees. She took her step-brother's hand again, this time holding his wrist and steering his fingers teasingly between the small, barely prominent swells of her young breasts. He made no attempt to fondle her teats until Lisa herself, feeling a sharp stirring of desire in her nipples, rubbed his hand urgently over them and pinched his forefinger and thumb securely around the base of one throbbing, pearl-hard titty.

A glorious but only dimly understood emotion flooded through the girl as Richard squeezed her teat more and more tightly. She found it impossible to keep her eyes open, a heaviness stealing over the lids and a terrible, overwhelming lust making her body tremble with hot and cold shivers. Lisa abruptly jerked Richard's hand down to her loins. She felt the stiff fingers bringing an instant relief to the itching there-and urged her thighs more widely apart so that they could press upwards and scratch freely against the wet, plump lips which curved so pleadingly beneath her crotch.

Lisa released her breath with a shuddering moan of pleasure. Two of Richard's fingers had begun to sink inwards: riding, digging thrusting into the juicy slit that ached so urgently-forcing the little flaps aside and penetrating the red hole in a rough manner which brought tears to the girl's eyes as she felt his nails scratching too sharply against her tender inner flesh.

But it didn't matter! The pain meant nothing to her while she was in this state of excitement! Lisa clenched her teeth and pushed her hips forward, pressing her loins down at the same time so that Richard's fingers could slide deeply into her hungry, unfucked vagina. She knew that she had to control her excitement for fear that her cries would rouse either her father or Miss Wynter from sleep, but Lisa couldn't hold back the heartfelt moans of pleasure which bubbled to her lips as Richard dipped his two fingers in and out of her cunt. They seemed to inspire her step-brother to an even more vigorous assault on her pussy, for he began to frig more passionately than ever-whipping his hand up and down, while his thumb (crooked outside the slit and pressing into Lisa's practically hairless pubis) dug firmly into her warm, moist cunt-mound and worked backwards and forwards across the hard little bone.

But when the itching in her sex had subsided, Lisa no longer felt quite so abandoned. Despite their long hours of intimacy, the young couple had never discovered the more exquisite pleasures they could exchange by advanced stimulation of each other's genitals. Their petting was severely limited, with Richard the most fortunate partner… for Lisa, by some strange quirk in her otherwise sophisticated nature, hadn't realised that she, too, could enjoy the ultimate bliss which she about to provide for her step-brother…

Forcing her eyes open, the girl fell forward until she was crouched over Richard's naked belly with her face close to his penis. The sudden movement dislodged his hand from her loins, but neither of them cared about this abrupt end to his frigging; Richard sliding his hand free of Lisa's body and pushing the lower half of his body up from the bed as she pounced like a famished cat, lips open wide, on the red shaft of his cock.

The small but violently agitated crown slipped into her mouth, sucked tightly inwards by his step-sister's greedy tongue-which protruded from her lips as she darted it from side to side of the quivering rod. Richard lay back with his head twisting to and fro on the rumpled pillow. He felt the sensitive meat of his sex being squeezed as if it was compressed between a wet, clinging vice: the pressure around his knob increasing as Lisa worked her mouth up and down its throbbing length and gnawed on the stiff gristle with her sucking lips.

A fierce pain raged in his loins now, an awful premonition of overwhelming disaster gripping his mind as the savage movement of his hips increased and Richard rammed his adolescent tool harder and harder between Lisa's teeth. It was going to burst! He knew that his penis would explode at any moment… Panic seized him, but he couldn't stop thrusting and thrusting-feeling the hot moisture dripping from the girl's mouth and the panting rhythm of her breath on his prick-while her head bobbed urgently up and down.

“Aaahh!” He screwed his hands into the loosened under sheets, trying to stifle the agonised cry which gave vent to his feelings. Something was happening-that special, incredible something that heralded release and ecstasy…

Richard suddenly held still, his lean buttocks clenched and raised off the bed, suffering the tension which racked his body and waiting out those precious, glorious moments while the tickling in his cock reached its crescendo, then found relief in a pissing that was too thick for urine-too thrilling to be a wet dream…

As the hot fluid hit the roof of her mouth, Lisa moaned and gasped alternately: swallowing the sticky nectar between sighs of intense pleasure, holding the rigid stick tightly in her lips while it ejaculated and marvelling again at its power to eject such a wonderful stream of sweet-tasting liquid. If only her stupid little sex could do the same! Lisa quickly forgot her disappointment and concentrated on wringing the last drop of thick dew from Richard's penis. Her mouth fondled the pulsing weapon, urging it to splash just one final trickle onto her tongue, and she continued to hold it possessively between her lips until the staff began to lose its wonderful power and diminished to a limp, but still exciting plaything.

Murmuring inarticulate words of praise to the exhausted boy, she finally eased her mouth away from his tool and kissed it a temporary farewell. “Until tomorrow, my darling!” Lisa whispered, not to Richard directly, but to his sex. “You're mine, aren't you? You belong to Lisa-and I'll come to see you very soon, my precious dickie! But now you must keep snug and warm…” She tenderly tucked the wet penis into Richard's pyjama trousers and pulled them up around her step-brother's hips. “I don't want you to catch cold, so I must look after you properly, mustn't I?”

Crooning as if she were talking to one of her dolls, Lisa slowly and: reluctantly climbed from the bed and buttoned her nightdress up: her eyes fixed upon the slight bulge at Richard's crotch, her lips moving almost soundlessly. Then, kissing him quickly on the lips, she stole from the room; moving cautiously back down the stairs, along the corridor and gaining the safety of her own bedroom without incident.

Although it was now nearly three o'clock in the morning, Lisa remained awake for some time-smiling serenely at the blue pattern on the ceiling and savoring the strong after-taste of creamy spunk which still clung to the inside of her mouth…

CHAPTER TWO

John Cunningham had suffered two terrible losses in the space of a few years. With meaningless cruelty, fate had deprived him of the two women he loved almost at a single stroke; leaving him with neither wife nor mistress, his only surviving mementos being the child they had each borne to him. The first tragedy had occurred thirteen years ago. Phyllis, his frail and sensitive wife, had died giving birth to Lisa-which at least enabled Cunningham to marry Judith, the girl who was carrying his second child, and thus prevent his only son from being born a bastard. But his mixed feelings about die death of his first wife-seeing the tragedy as perhaps a blessing in disguise-seemed to outrage Providence or whatever forces rule our lives. For, within three years, Judith was also snatched from him: killed instantaneously in a car accident on the very eve of their wedding anniversary.

Cunningham hadn't been a particularly religious man. But he couldn't shake off the suspicion that his previous life of immorality had aroused the wrath of a vengeful God. The twin disasters which had been visited on him, he began to see as a divine punishment; and from that moment on, he changed character completely. The hard-drinking, wenching John Cunningham became a churchgoer-a strict disciplinarian with his children, a model of respectability. He gained the reputation-both at business and in his private life-of being an anti-feminist: actively hating or treating with contempt every woman, young or old, who was unlucky enough to cross his path…

He raised his children as if they were living in the middle of the 19th, instead of the 20th, century. Lisa arid Richard were subjected to the kind of restrictions that were out-moded and stunting to their development; and when they complained to their father that none of their school friends had to behave with such decorum, that they were allowed to watch television, play in the park without constant supervision and so on, Cunningham immediately removed them from the private school and such pernicious influences. Since the age of ten and continuing (Cunningham intended) until they were ready for University, Lisa and Richard had been taught at home by a Governess. Kathleen Wynter was her name, a tall and authoritative young girl whose Irish descent had endowed her with a fiery temper and flashing brown eyes. Cunningham treated her curtly, avoiding her presence whenever possible. He had searched in vain to find a male tutor suitable to educate and care for his children; and when this proved impossible, he had decided against employing a matronly woman for the post. A mature, experienced Governess might easily usurp his own authority over Lisa and Richard, he reasoned-whereas Miss Wynter who was just 25 years of age when she first came to live with them, was young enough to be quelled by Cunningham's stronger personality. She was surprisingly competent, too: although this was only her second position, Miss Wynter had formed an instant attachment to the two sensitive and docile children, and her instruction was received by them with attention-enabling them to progress, educationally at least, as quickly as if they had been attending an ordinary school.

So far as Kathleen Wynter was concerned, it was only the strong, protective feelings which she had for Lisa and Richard which kept her in the same employment for so many years. True, Cunningham was a prosperous businessman with a dozen lucrative finance companies under his directorship and he paid her a good salary. But there was an unpleasant atmosphere in the large house whenever he was present… an indefinable but depressing gloom that was communicated to the children as well as to Kathleen herself. It was a modern, five-bedroomed, detached property at Purley, Surrey; a semi-rural district in the “Green Belt” country some 15 miles from London, known as “the stockbroker-commuter area” in the popular press. Although the town was only a short distance from the house, Kathleen felt inexpressibly cut off from the mainstream of life: almost a prisoner in the pleasant, beautifully furnished home which Phyllis-and then Judith-had briefly prepared for Cunningham and the children; attending to the layout of the gardens, the disposition of the rooms and other details before they died so tragically young…

She was, of course, free to take vacations; to enjoy her weekends and holidays as she pleased. But Kathleen, during the long period of her employment, had rarely taken advantage of these opportunities. She hated the thought of leaving Lisa and Richard alone in the house with their father. It was clear to the girl that he was still-nearly 15 years' later-harbouring deep-seated guilt concerning the death of his two wives; and this obsessive neurosis had taken the form of safeguarding his children from the kind of loose morals which he had once indulged in-and which, irrationally, he felt had contributed to the tragedy of their mothers' early demise…

It was now 1961. But despite the gradual easing of restrictions-the opening-up of the era of permissiveness-John Cunningham persisted in treating all matters pertaining to sex with strict intolerance. He refused to permit Kathleen to give Lisa and Richard any form of sex-education, glowering at the Governess with the indignant self-righteousness of a Victorian patriarch.

“Never make that kind of suggestion again!” Cunningham had roared, his dark eyes alive with anger. “I'll decide when my children are to be told the facts of life! And they're certainly not ready to fill their heads with perverted nonsense at the moment!”

“They are thirteen years old", Kathleen remonstrated. “Surely — .”

She had been silenced by Cunningham abruptly turning his back and striding away, slamming the door behind him. But Kathleen was fortunately too spirited to accept her employer's decision on such an important question. Almost immediately, she took the children aside and gave them their first, elementary lessons in human biology: explaining carefully to Lisa and Richard that they should refrain from mentioning the subject to their father…

In other, equally subversive and surreptitious ways, Kathleen opposed Cunningham's intentions regarding the first days of her engagement that he wanted them both to develop into the kind of extrovert, outdoor types who enjoyed “the healthy, outdoor life”; who despised, as he did, those “weak, so-called sensitive layabouts with their poetry, their artistic pretensions and their free-thinking philosophy-which was merely an excuse to indulge in filthy, perverted habits”. His children, Cunningham had vowed, would be protected from such influences as these…

Unfortunately, he had underestimated the passion for giving Lisa and Richard a thorough education which burned in the Governess's breast. Kathleen, in a hundred subtle ways, undermined their father's bias-cleverly developing the gentle side of their natures (which they had inherited from their mothers) and encouraging them to read secretly the volumes of “forbidden matter”-verse, psychology, modern fiction-which she smuggled into the house.

At this period in time, John Cunningham's thriving companies demanded a great deal of his energy and attention. He was obliged to spend a considerable number of hours away from his home, entrusting Lisa and Richard more and more frequently to the sole care of their Governess. Kathleen Wynter had been acting in this capacity now for almost three years-and Cunningham was reasonably satisfied that the girl had continued to carry out his instructions regarding the education of his children to the letter. For her part, the Governess had never given him cause to suspect that Lisa and Richard were developing in diametrically different directions from those Cunningham had intended…

But it wasn't until they had both reached their fourteenth birthday (Lisa a few months earlier than her stepbrother) that Kathleen unwittingly discovered their shocking secret…

The revelation-and the turning point in all their lives-came during one of John Cunningham's weekend business conferences. He had been forced, through pressure of work, to make an overnight stay in London on alternate Saturdays and Sundays, and on one of these occasions Lisa and Richard planned to make a daring extension of their “night games”. For the first time, with a sense of embarking on a great adventure, they decided to explore each other's bodies and play “sexy feelings” (their private phrase for the heavy petting in which they indulged) in broad daylight!

Previously, their forbidden love-making had taken place only in darkness; the intimate moments cloaked under cover of bed-clothes and dim moonlight. It was Lisa who had suggested that it would be “so exciting” to lie naked together on the lounge sofa, with the sun streaming through the windows, their kissing and fondling made especially thrilling by the danger of discovery which was inherent in the situation. Not that there would be any real danger, Lisa hastily reassured her step-brother. Their father, of course, would be miles away: and Miss Wynter would be taking her regular afternoon nap-“forty winks” which invariably lasted for two hours or more. No, they wouldn't really be interrupted; it was just the apparent peril which would give their game its added excitement…

Despite his misgivings, Richard allowed himself to be persuaded. And now, to all intents and purposes alone in the huge house, they were slowly disrobing in the sun-filled lounge-Lisa skillfully and without difficulty unbuttoning Richard's trousers and shirt, pausing when she had removed one item of his clothing and standing still while he fumbled at the more delicate fastenings of her dress and brassiere. To encourage the growth of her breasts, Lisa had given them a firm, regular massage each night; and although they were still small when compared to the fine, bosomy tits of, say, Miss Wynter, she knew that-for a girl of her age-the development of her breasts was quite considerable. It was with pride that she felt Richard's nervous fingers sliding the plain white straps over her shoulders and letting the bra-cups drop away from her titties. His breath was hot on her neck, and Lisa knew that he was gazing down over her right shoulder at the pronounced swellings: their whiteness providing a sexy contrast with the hard red tips of her nipples. They were both down to their pants now-and Lisa wished fiercely that her briefs had been more glamorous, that she wasn't forced by her father to wear schoolgirl cotton knickers instead of the tiny black bikini panties which would cling to her in a tight, silky caress. Shamefully, she pulled her unattractive briefs down her thighs and kicked them away, hoping that Richard wouldn't notice how ridiculous and unalluring they were.

Lisa needn't have worried. Her step-brother's eyes were busily studying her now-naked body, examining in the bright sunlight which poured through the picture windows the nude charms which, previously, he had only glimpsed in shadow. Steeling herself against an attack of nerves, Lisa made herself turn slowly around to face the boy. She posed for him, her eyes half-closed, standing with her hands resting lightly on her bare, very slim hips and waited while he drank to the fill of her completely nude figure.

Hair was beginning to sprout quite profusely around her small mons veneris; but it was of such a fine blonde texture that the sex itself-the invitingly damp lips and the plump ridge which surrounded them-was clearly visible through the silky bush. Lisa felt languorous and very attractive. She stretched her arms slowly above her head, enjoying the hot sensation of the sun on her back as she arched her spine and thrust the front of her body towards Richard. The familiar warmth deep inside her loins made the slit feel itchy, a tickling at the place which required urgent fondling to calm it down. Lisa sucked her lower lip and forced herself not to scratch the quivering flesh of her sex, discreetly pressing her thighs together in order to slightly quell the pulsing itchiness between them.

Richard's eyes dropped to Lisa's crotch. He swallowed, seeing the faint but unmistakable motion of his stepsister's legs-rubbing against each other, making the puffy flesh around her sex thicker and protrude in an even more prominent fashion. And then she was lowering herself onto the sofa, setting her head on the soft, brightly coloured cushions and lying full-length with her thighs innocently parted. She made a pillow of her palms, cupping her heads behind her head so that her arms were raised and her small breasts stretched and flattened slightly. The nipples, however, were now thick and taut; rising out of the immature bosoms with strong, stiff lust-their deeply crimson texture enlarged and fully awakened.

Richard knelt on the floor beside the girl. He put out his trembling hands and laid them on Lisa's belly, then began to stroke into the warm white flesh-one hand passing over the slim, palpitating midriff towards her breasts, the other sliding slowly and excitedly to her sex. At exactly the same moment, they reached their targets: Richard's right hand cupped the hard mound of Lisa's pubis, while his left hand alighted on the soft swelling of her nearest titty. He started to massage both places, rubbing his fingers into the lovely, thrilling secrets and feeling his prick responding to the stimulation by growing painfully erect and thrusting urgently against the restraint of his underpants.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open. More than anything, Richard wanted to shut out the almost unbearably erotic sight of his step-sister's body and simply fling himself on top of her-grinding his cock on her soft flesh and letting the hot spunk splash thickly onto her stomach. This was the closest they had yet come to fucking: so far, neither Richard nor Lisa had dared to attempt actual penetration…

But he fought back this urge to reach a speedy climax, and continued to fondle at her breast and her pussy. His fingers were concentrating on the rosy thickness of Lisa's nipple-while his other hand had begun to explore the wet heat of her sex, his face bent close to her crotch while his fingers stroked the messy slit between her open thighs.

Her breath was now coming as sharply and unevenly as his own, their panting mounting as Richard's fingers entered Lisa's quim and he caressed along the moist, fleshy-walls before finding the deep entrance to her vagina with his forefinger and urgently thrusting upwards into the tight recess. A momentary pain went through the girl's pussy, tears filling her eyes at the sudden intrusion, and then she relaxed-keeping her thighs well open-while Richard frigged gently in and out, his steady motion bringing her relief and the most exquisite pleasure she could imagine.

Soon, the craving to hold his prick in her hand and feel its slender power throbbing against her fingers took possession of Lisa. She reached out for his arm and drew him up onto the sofa-moving so that he could kneel astride her hips and continue to fondle her quim while she played with his stiff sex. It was still tucked away inside his pants, bulging strenuously through the white cotton, its shape clearly defined. Lisa stretched herself upwards, leaning towards him and bringing her head and shoulders off the cushions. She was careful not to dislodge Richard's hand from its position on her loins-his fingers now dipping into her pussy from a downward angle, working vigorously at the slit and giving it a powerful, stimulating frigging-and when she pulled his pants down over the stiff young cock, Lisa could still feel the bite of his digits in her cunt.

Directly the pants were drawn over Richard's crotch, tugged midway down the boy's thighs, she clenched her fist around the bared knob. It sprang violently out of the briefs, the prepuce raw and inflamed-looking; the thick vein which ran along its sensitive underside pulsing thickly with the blood of his excitement. Lisa sank back again, holding tightly to her prize, thrusting up with her hips to encourage Richard's fingers. She started to squeeze the prick in a vigorous rhythm-making it jump under the pressure of her fingers and swell like a ripe fruit that was ready to yield up its seed. Already, squirming and writhing with a complete lack of inhibition, the girl had lubricated her cunt to a sticky wetness, the slit running over with thin hot honey and burning her step-brother's fingers as he rode them again and again into the hole…

The daylight seemed to add a new dimension to their sex-game, taking it out of the realms of furtiveness and endowing both Lisa and Richard with an exhilarating sense of freedom. Their eyes met. For the first time during one of their intimate moments, they stared directly into each other's eyes-holding their gaze steadfast for a few minutes while Lisa tenderly rubbed up and down her step-brother's cock and Richard wriggled his fingers about in the frothy slit of the girl's pussy.

Silently, Lisa's eyes pleaded with him. They opened widely in an expression of intense, unashamed begging: and words weren't needed to make Richard understand what she wanted…

A shuddering went through him, compounded of fear and excitement. As Lisa continued to stare hotly up into his eyes, he felt her quim contract and then spurt out a long stream of love-juice-the liquid pouring over his hand, her juicy sex rubbing urgently up and down against his fingers. And still Lisa kept her eyes open! She fondled the velvet skin of his prickhead, coaxing it and stroking her thumb again and again across the circular ridge below the crest; driving him half-insane with excitement…

Almost fainting under the emotion which swept through him, Richard sank at full-length on Lisa's body. He felt her thighs open to their widest extent and then her legs bent at the knees-her tiny feet sliding onto the cheeks of his arse and bearing down on them: bringing his achingly stiff prick into hard contact with her belly. For a moment, Richard thought that he had misinterpreted Lisa's desire. Perhaps, after all, she merely wanted him to cream out his sperm on her tummy-as they had done so many times before? He started, tentatively, to ride backwards and forwards-rubbing the length of his tool into her belly and feeling the dizzying waves of excitement as the soft flesh rippled beneath his rod.

Then, with an urgency that frightened him, the girl squirmed her body upwards a few inches and drove her hand between their thighs. Swiftly, Lisa caught his knob again. She held it around the hilt, pressing its crest to the thoroughly wet slot of her cunt and pushed it slowly around inside the outer lips until Richard could feel the yielding hole itself; widening and stretching as Lisa began to impale herself on his stiff, twitching wand.

Directly the first few inches had been grasped by her sticky funnel, Lisa released his weapon and wrapped both her arms around her step-brother's neck-hugging him so tightly that Richard could scarcely breathe. Her body-strained up against his, and suddenly her mouth was crushing moistly on his lips-forcing them open, her tongue driving passionately between his teeth and licking all over the inside of his mouth.

Richard was sinking into an uncontrollable state of fury, his young lust aroused to an unprecedented degree by Lisa's passion. Tensing the muscles of his thighs and hips, he thrust forward: urging his cock deeper into the girl's cunt, feeling the hardness of her pubic mound pressing into his abdomen as he brutally forced their crotches together and, inch by inch, fucked his prick further into his half-sister's quim!

There was a sudden constriction, though, when his tool had penetrated midway into the cunt. Richard drove against it, bearing forward with his loins and trying to force his knob to slide the rest of the way into Lisa's hot, sucking slit. But she cried out in sharp pain, wrenching her lips away from his mouth and sinking her teeth into his shoulder-

“No, oh, no! I can't take it!” Lisa sobbed. “Oh, darling, I'm sorry-I'm sorry! But it hurts too much!”

Anger and frustration seized the boy. He was torn between his feelings for Lisa-his emotional, brotherly attachment to her-and the violent lust which she herself had aroused in him. He tried, more gently this time, to drive his prick past the obstinate constriction of her hymen: but with every movement he made, Lisa shook her head urgently from side to side, crying and moaning in pain and despair.

Bitterly, Richard withdrew his cock. He felt a wrench of acute disappointment-as if he were a baby that had been torn from its mother's nipple unsatisfied-and it was only when he began to ride his aching, throbbing tool up and down on the girl's stomach that this intensely unpleasant sensation left him. He could still hear the choked sobs, the heartrending weeping which Lisa was making as she buried her face against his shoulder, but overriding this was the desperate need to reach his climax. Ignoring her feelings, Richard clasped her body against him-sliding both his hands around Lisa's back-and jerked the stiffness of his cock into her sleek, resilient under-belly.

It was a brief, unsatisfying orgasm. Richard spent with animal lust-and without real pleasure-onto Lisa's stomach: shooting his spunk in quick, lumpy spurts that left him physically repleted but emotionally frustrated. Miserably, he sprawled on top of the girl; afraid to meet her eyes now, conscious that their beautiful afternoon of daylight “feelings” had been ruined by over-eagerness and impatience…

It was quite possible that this traumatic experience might have ended their intimate relationship for ever, since-in the long, embarrassing minutes following Richard's ejaculation-the couple vowed separately that they could never again touch one another without being painfully reminded of this unsatisfactory experiment. But fate had decided to intervene at this point… in the person of their Governess, Kathleen Wynter!

She came downstairs earlier than usual, awakened by Lisa's loud sobbing and cries of pain. Pausing only to slip a housecoat over her otherwise naked body (Kathleen always took her afternoon nap unclothed; being thrifty and not wishing to don a nightdress for a few hours each day) she hurried down to the lounge, certain that Lisa had suffered some kind of accident…

Her reaction upon flinging open the door and seeing the step-brother and sister naked in each other's arms was, initially, stunned disbelief. Kathleen froze midway across the room, one hand clutching the housecoat to her body, the other going to her mouth as if to stifle the shout of outrage which was springing to her lips. No, she told herself quickly. That isn't the way to handle the situation-don't let them see that you're horrified… disgust and anger would be the worst possible attitude: you could even drive them to suicide if you don't adopt a rational, reasonable response…

Rapidly, her mind calculated the background to this revelation that Lisa and Richard were lovers. Kathleen's liberal character was put to its severest test as she tried to stifle the revulsion which threatened to drown out her feelings of pity and understanding for their incestuous behaviour. But she succeeded in calming her instincts by concentrating her thoughts, not upon her own emotions but upon the children's-telling herself that it was their lack of a normal upbringing and their deprivations which had thrust them into each other's arms. Lacking close friends and a mother, Lisa and Richard had turned to one another for solace; and their physical awakening had, naturally enough in the circumstances, brought them to this sexual alliance…

When she felt that she had complete control over her voice, Kathleen drew nearer to the still-entwined young lovers. She saw with surprise that they were apparently unruffled by her sudden intrusion: moving out of each other's arms as she approached the sofa where they were lying, but making no attempt to hide either their nakedness or their intimacy. The truth was that neither Lisa nor Richard cared any more about discovery or punishment. They were both in a state of total misery-the kind of numb, insulating despair which only comes to particularly sensitive and introverted adolescents: a dark, all-embracing angst that saw no hope, no future, no possible way out from the dark wood of their depression…

Compassion outweighed every other consideration as Kathleen Wynter surveyed the unhappy boy and girl. She bent over them, intending to offer soft words of understanding-a sympathetic hand placed on their shoulders-but she hadn't allowed for the fact that this gesture would result in her housecoat gaping widely open: exposing the front of her body from neck to toes!

Too late, Kathleen tried to draw the pink and unbuttoned garment back in place. With an odd excitement, she realised that both Lisa and Richard had been gazing for the space of several seconds at her naked breasts and belly; and now she could see that there was a wicked, meaningful glint in the young girl's eyes…

Lisa suddenly grabbed at Kathleen's housecoat. She pulled it open again, snatching the nearest flap and jerking it out of the Governess's hand!

“Help me, darling!” she shouted to Richard. “It doesn't matter what we do now-she's going to tell Father and we'll be punished terribly! Quickly-we can do anything we like to her if we're strong enough!”

Before Kathleen could regain her balance, Richard had joined his step-sister in grappling with her. Together, the teenagers pulled the woman forward until Kathleen was sprawling between them on the big sofa: her housecoat falling off her shoulders, her large breasts bouncing freely under the violence of her movements.

“Don't!” she gasped. “Don't be so stupid! I don't intend to-. Ouch!!”

Lisa had closed her small but tight-fingered fist around one of Kathleen's titties-clenching the big globe and squeezing the breath from the woman's lungs. She began to struggle in earnest, fighting to free herself from the vigorous surprisingly strong hands which clutched at her… conscious that, above all, she must contrive to hide her nakedness from their impressionable-and obviously excited! — young eyes…

With the instinctive cruelty of those who feel they are doomed, Lisa and Richard twisted their Governess's arms behind her back. Applying vicious pressure, they forced her into unwilling submission: turning her face ashen with pain as their hands wrenched savagely and came within a hairs-breadth of breaking her slender, fine-boned wrists.

Fearfully, wincing as the sharp electric tingles flashed along her arms, Kathleen stared up into the triumphant faces of her young charges. Lisa kneeling to her right and Richard astride her left thigh-his diminished, but still wet prick dangling so that its crown touched her flesh-they held her immobile: their faces flushed and excited, no longer innocent children but dangerous adolescents…

The vivid thrill of holding the Governess's naked breast in her hand had reawakened Lisa's desire. She hadn't intended to go so far-the whole situation had suddenly and inexplicably got out of control-but the gnawing frustration which the girl had felt at being unable to receive Richard's prick in her virgin sex was firing her to extremes… Lisa couldn't stop herself now. She used her authority over Richard to bend him to her will (although, in truth, the boy was now just as eager as Lisa herself to vent his sexual desire on Miss Wynter's beautiful body!)

“You can put your dickie into her pussy, darling!” Lisa gasped. “It won't hurt her at all-she's a big, lovely woman, aren't you, Miss Wynter?”

Horrified, Kathleen renewed her struggling as she realised that the boy and girl were beyond verbal control. She threshed wildly, no longer caring that her breasts were shaking and rippling from side to side-exciting Lisa and Richard still further! This is madness, she thought. They can't possibly be serious… they wouldn't dare to-.

But she could already feel Richard's young cock springing back to erection. The wilting length of gristle was hardening, spurred by the sexy instructions which Lisa was panting to him…

“Get between her thighs, darling! Put your dickie against her slit if you can! Go on, Richard! If she tries to stop you, I'll break her arm!”

The threat wasn't an idle one, as Kathleen quickly discovered when she attempted to kick Richard away from her. White-faced, feeling Lisa's fingernails digging remorselessly into the thin skin of her left wrist, the woman sagged back helplessly and suffered the indignity of having the boy's body fitting over her in erotic intimacy. He was also bending her other wrist, but with his free hand Richard started to rub at the smooth flesh below Kathleen's breasts-his fingers slowly reaching up to encompass one of the ripe, still-wobbing titties…

And as his hand closed around the lower half of the swell, fingers sinking deeply into the soft mound and beginning to fondle at the resilient flesh, Kathleen felt the hot, wet lick of a tongue at her neck. Lisa had slipped downwards so that her body was now lying alongside the Governess's-and she, too, had one hand free to torment the helpless woman! The warmth of the little, 14-year-old girl's flesh against the side of her body made Kathleen shiver with apprehension. She knew that she was becoming uneasily excited by the situation, that her nipples were rising instinctively and that her quim had begun to grow expectantly moist from the pressure of Richard's stiffening prick on its mound. And now that Lisa was licking delicately at the back of her ear, Kathleen's eyes clouded with pleasure-an involuntary sigh escaping her lips as she felt the quivering wetness steal slowly from the base of her ear-lobe and down to the hollow at her throat. The girl's tongue returned, sliding in a deliberately arousing caress, moving again and again along the same path, until the woman moaned with sweet, unbearable delight…

“Oh, Lisa! Oh, darling, you mustn't-you really mustn't do that to me!”

Kathleen's voice was dreamy and husky. She had stopped resisting, and when Richard's forefinger roved across the pliable expanse of her breast and pressed firmly into her nipple, her only reaction was to arch her back and increase the contact: scoring the boy's digit more deeply into the scarlet teat, making it feel the hard, throbbing stiffness which pulsed through her titty. Immediately sensing that the Governess was on the point of capitulating, Lisa began to fondle her other breast; stroking down into the flesh with a steady, firm pressure of her fingers and moving the globe gently to and fro-causing it to rub sexily against its twin and form, briefly, a deep and exciting cleavage between the two lusciously full bosoms. At the same time, the girl increased her licking at Kathleen's ear and neck. She passed her tongue carefully along the fine bone until the woman was breathing unevenly, her body writhing in delicious torment, her large nipples fully extended and marvelously erect.

Lisa darted her tongue suddenly into Miss Wynter's ear. The tiny orifice tasted pure and clean, a delicate hint of perfume filling the girl's nostrils as she revolved her tongue just inside the opening and drove her Governess into a frenzy of unwilling delight.

“Please! Oh, please!” Kathleen begged her, gasping out the words as if she were drowning in a sea of passion. “I really can't… Oh, you bad, naughty girl! It's too much! You're making me do things I shouldn't!”

There was a knowing, cynical expression on Lisa's pretty face now; she understood only too well the irresistible forces which they had aroused in their Governess, and she continued to lick around the inside of the woman's ear-at the same time slipping her forefinger and thumb around Kathleen's nipples… squeezing gently at first, then increasing the pressure until her digits were compressing the teat as tightly as possible. Lisa was rewarded instantly by the hungry searching of her Governess's lips as Kathleen squirmed her face sideways and began to kiss her passionately on the mouth! Murmuring indistinct cries of feeble protest, the woman allowed her tongue to slide forward into Lisa's open lips-their mouths clasped urgently together, their hot breath mingling as Lisa eagerly returned the French-kiss and plucked with tantalising fingers, harder and harder, into Kathleen's nipple.

Miss Wynter had passed beyond rational thought. The desire which sparked like lightning through her body accepted no taboos now: she relaxed her thighs, spreading them more widely and enabling Richard to prod his hard, if slightly slender penis against the very damp slit of her cunt. The jet black hairs which grew in such profusion around Kathleen's sex felt like the silken threads of a spider's web to Richard as he pressed forward with his cock and sought the long, narrow opening. They clung tautly to the crown of his prick, seeming as if they wanted to bar his way: only retreating when he fucked strongly inwards, past them, his stiff little rod ploughing up through the rich red flesh and screwing snugly into the woman's slot. When it was completely inside her, Kathleen constricted her vaginal walls; tightening the pressure of her quim so that the tube sucked lovingly around the boy's dick. She could feel his small but very powerful knob leaping vigorously about, its entire length swallowed up by her cunt, and a surging pleasure passed swiftly through her loins and into her body at the knowledge that she was the first female to receive Richard's fucking!

For by this time, Kathleen had been released by the young couple-her arms freed as they realised she no longer intended to fight them off. And immediately, Kathleen's hand had stolen between Lisa's thighs: her fingers searching for the girl's quim, their continuing wet kiss inspiring her to seek an even moister intimacy! There! Her forefinger roved gently up and dawn the slit for a few moments, calming it before the penetration. Lisa's pussy was amazingly humid for a girl of her age, Kathleen thought. It seemed to burn her finger as she pressed it against the hot, moist cleft under Lisa's thighs-a warmth emanating from the small, half-open vulva that was exciting and interesting. Kathleen had almost forgotten the sensation of touching another girl's sex. Many years ago, she had briefly experimented with lesbianism; finding that its attractions weren't sufficient to appease her desire. But now-fondling gently upwards and finding the extreme tightness of the cunt which proved irrefutably that Lisa was still a virgin-the woman relived her earlier fascination with the sticky, liquid slit… exploring it with softly probing fingers and rubbing the tiny bud of the clitoris until it rose stiffly under her touch.

The convulsions of Lisa's body as the girl received this most disturbing of all caresses was terrifying to behold! She thrashed violently in Kathleen's embrace, her thighs working rapidly open and shut around the woman's hand-while Lisa's mouth sucked urgently at her Governess's lips, the sharp young teeth suddenly biting and drawing blood!

Through her pain, Kathleen smiled to herself. She understood immediately that the girl-due to some odd oversight-had never discovered the intense sexual excitement which could be derived from her sensitive little clitty! And she deliberately provoked the erect cunt-teat again: flicking the tiny stalk with the tip of her forefinger, driving Lisa into a renewed frenzy… the girl's entire body shuddering with passion.

So! Despite their love-games, they still had a great deal to learn, Kathleen thought grimly. Not only about each other's bodies-but also about their own! She was, she knew, already committed to the sharing of their secret. As a result of her unavoidable response to their seduction, she had become an accomplice in their unnatural intimacy. All right: Kathleen would teach them all she knew about the pleasures of sex! She had nothing to lose now… Her reputation was already shattered in the eyes of the children. And there was no possible danger that either of them would inform their father of her behaviour.

Kathleen Wynter made her resolution in a single second of time; the upward thrust of her loins against Richard's prick continued, the urgent kissing of Lisa's mouth didn't hesitate… And now she was bringing all her experience into play-grinding her hips so that the boy's cock received an even tighter screwing as it fucked in and out: whipping her finger along the cleft of Lisa's cunt and vibrating the girl's clitoris rapidly to and fro. Kathleen could feel Richard's knob trembling with a violent, uncontrollable throbbing. Despite his previous ejaculation, the boy had been aroused as never before by her sexy instruction-feeling for the first time in his young life the heat and closeness of a female sex around his penis… clenching into it, the wet walls rubbing encouragement to the laboured, fast-ramming tool!

He rocked up and down, squeezing into Kathleen's compressed pussy, hungrily slamming his belly down on hers and feeling the prickly bush of her pubic hair entwining with his thin crotch-strands each time their loins worked briefly together. Richard clung to the woman's breast as if it was an anchor. He had fastened his hand into the soft, ample swelling-digging his fingers in the creamy flesh until the nails were hidden-panting out his lust into the warmth of Kathleen's neck and hearing the wet kissing sounds which Lisa and the Governess were making as they dipped tongues into each other's mouths.

Madness possessed him, an insane fury which drove Richard faster and faster: his prick now raging back and forth-in…out! in… out! Soft dough was wrapped around his sex, sucking at it more beautifully than Lisa's lips! He had to let go! He couldn't stand the vibrations which were coursing like hot needles through his cock!

Kathleen felt his climax even before the sperm had begun to shoot. In her excited cunt, deep in the heart of her streaming funnel, she experienced the tell-tale pulsing; the tense quivering of Richard's weapon as it remained abruptly still inside the vagina-his balls wedged up tight against her slit. Kathleen waited eagerly for the moment of orgasm. She kept her hips revolving very slowly, lifting her arse upwards and gently encouraging the boy to shoot. And when the tickling in his cock had reached its height, the fresh sperm gathering its strength for the lightning-swift journey, Kathleen fucked herself urgently up and down again: timing her rhythm to coincide with the spattering of spunk that erupted from Richard's prick.

His white, pinched face lit with ecstasy. The shuddering motion of his penis as it spewed a healthy stream of hot, bubbling seed into the woman's womb brought the boy to an excitement which he hadn't dreamed could exist! He pressed tightly forward and used all his muscles to grind his crotch against Kathleen's pubis. Deep, utterly satisfying spasms shook his body. He pissed out the thick fat, jolting forward again and again, his legs twitching and his buttocks squeezed tightly together as the orgasm thundered through his cock…

Thus began Lisa and Richard's sex education. There could be no turning back to innocence for them now. Like Kathleen Wynter, the children were locked in a closely-knit, unhealthy relationship that would not only retard their emotional development-it would also prevent either of them from attaining a mature and wholly satisfactory love affair with an outsider.

Lisa, Richard-and now Kathleen…

They kept their secret well for a time, never betraying by word or deed the pleasures which they shared (and the instruction they received from their Governess!) during John Cunningham's absence. The years passed… and the step-brother and sister ripened into early adolescence: having no friends but each other, receiving no education other than Miss Wynter's private tuition-which had centred more and more on sensuality, erotic techniques and libertine philosophy. Their Father was a stranger who occasionally called them into his study and lectured them on trivial misdemeanours-for the sake of form, it seemed to Lisa and Richard, rather than from any deep concern with their upbringing.

And it wasn't until the summer of 1965, when the children were seventeen years old-and Kathleen Wynter had reached the age of 34-that they became too reckless; failing to realise that Cunningham's business affairs were now beginning to run themselves and that he was growing more concerned with the future of his offspring.

CHAPTER THREE

It really began with Kathleen's announcement that she had decided to accept a post overseas. The news shocked Lisa and Richard profoundly, since they had come to accept the Governess as a permanent member of their family. But she had felt the oppressive claustrophobia of the house (and their highly immoral association) becoming too intense during the recent years. Her attachment to the incestuous teenagers was severely limiting-both to herself and to them-and when the British Council advertised for a teacher at one of their private schools in the Lebanon, Kathleen applied for the lucrative assignment.

“I didn't tell you about it before because I knew it would upset you", she explained, breaking the news as gently as possible to Lisa and Richard. They were all gathered in the front lounge where, three years previously, the first seeds of their relationship had been sown. It was a hot June afternoon. Lisa and Richard had changed into swimsuits directly after lunch, lazing on the well-kept lawns at the back of the house-their scantily dressed bodies concealed by the high fence which John Cunningham had erected around the garden. Kathleen was to have joined them, but after donning her bikini in her bedroom the Governess had hesitated; realising that, with only a fortnight left before she caught the 'plane to Beirut, it was essential for her to explain her imminent departure to the children…

Rather than put the news off for another minute, she hurried downstairs and called them into the lounge. The French windows were open, letting a warm breeze blow into the room, but Lisa and Richard shivered at Kathleen's revelation that she was leaving them: as if a cold wind had suddenly whipped around their gently tanned bodies.

“You can't mean it!” Lisa exclaimed, her eyes filling with tears. “You wouldn't go away, Miss Wynter-you wouldn't do such a terrible thing to us!”

Kathleen took the girl's hand in hers. She pressed Lisa's fingers, keeping her resolution firm and trying not to weaken in the face of the shocked, thunderstruck expression in the children's eyes. (Despite their intimacy and the fact that Lisa and Richard were practically adult, she still thought of them as her pupils-her young, tender charges-and they had continued to refer to their Governess as “Miss Wynter”. It was a mark of respect, no more.)

“I have my own life to lead,” she pointed out as reasonably as possible. “I'm 34 years old, remember? And, in any case, your father will be dispensing with my services soon: you're both too old to have a Governess, you know!”

But nothing could quell the misery which descended on the boy and girl, and when Kathleen added that she had already written a letter giving her formal notice to Mr. Cunningham-and that she would be departing in just two more weeks, Lisa fell on her shoulder and clung to her neck as if she would forcibly restrain the Governess…

The near-nudity of the girl's body tempted Kathleen strongly. She could feel the warm flesh-now more rounded and curved-pressing tightly against her own scantily-clad figure, and when Lisa brought their breasts squashingly together-her nicely developed young titties rubbing deeply into the buxom orbs which jutted from Kathleen's bikini-top-the woman had to summon every ounce of her determination in order to gently thrust the girl away.

“No, my darling!” she insisted firmly, holding Lisa at arms' length. “We mustn't play our games any more. It would be too cruel to all of us! Try to think of them as pleasant, exciting memories; an interlude between childhood and growing up. It's time now to put these things away, to forget all about the past and concentrate on the future. You've both developed into attractive, intelligent young people. You must seek your own friends, your own lovers, from your own age-group…”

Even as she spoke, Kathleen realised the utter futility of her words. Lisa and Richard, psychologically speaking, were Siamese twins: they couldn't be parted, not in the real sense of the word. Oh yes! They might go their separate ways, temporarily be segregated. But such a tremendously powerful intimacy had been forged between them during the most important years of their life, that they would remain locked together-emotionally, if not physically…

And now Richard had joined his step-sister in entreating Kathleen not to go, imploring her with all the wiles, all the persuasion he could thing of-his muscular young body, the prominent bulge of his sex beneath the swimming trunks, adding to the Governess's tortuous dilemma.

But she remained firm. Nothing they could say or do would cause her to change her mind: Kathleen had already vowed to herself that she would be impervious to argument. And after several minutes of wasted effort, Lisa and Richard realised that Miss Wynter was adamant.

“Let's enjoy the sun, at any rate,” Lisa sighed, her voice unsteady from sobbing but apparently under control. “It's such a beautiful day-and you'll want to arrive in Beirut with a nice sun-tan, won't you, Miss Wynter?”

There seemed no harm in this and Kathleen followed them through the French windows and out onto the sheltered lawn; where lilos and a table of iced drinks were already awaiting them. She settled herself, face-down, on a cushiony, multicoloured lilo and allowed the hot summer rays of the sun to beat strongly on her back. The sensation was relaxing, and Kathleen soon felt the unhappiness lifting from her mind and being replaced by a dreamless, heavy somnambulism that made her limbs grow warm and listless. It was too much trouble to get up and take a glass of lemonade. Kathleen closed her eyes. The gentle murmur of the grass as the breeze stirred it and the musical twittering of the birds formed a lazy background to her reverie; allowing a sweet contentment to envelop the woman. The years had treated Kathleen kindly. She had retained her beauty well, and her figure was-if anything-even more voluptuous and exciting with the advent of her full maturity. In the brief bikini, with its leopard-skin pattern, her body curved beautifully; the ripe swelling of her thighs tapering nicely into sleek calves and neat, trim ankles; the hips full but sexily rounded and without excess fat; the breasts, bulging in a tight cleavage from the cups of her tiny swimsuit, firm and able to thrust outwards unaided by an uplift-brassiere.

Kathleen's face, too, had kept its youthful complexion and her forehead was unlined and smooth-no trace of a wrinkle appearing anywhere on her skin. Although well into her 'thirties, she could pass quite easily for a girl of 25 or so; but she knew that her remaining years of physical beauty were numbered… hence her decision to travel abroad and perhaps find a lover who would want to marry her. It had been three years since Kathleen Wynter had enjoyed the attention of a man. Richard's prick had grown amazingly big during the months of their frequent intercourse, but she hungered for the dimensions of a real man-not merely the adequate but still-adolescent cock of a teenager…

Kathleen's thoughts turned irresistibly to a daydream of sexual stimulation. She began to imagine the slow, commanding seduction which her new lover would give to her: the masterful touch of his fingers on her skin, arousing her to new heights of excitement… dominating her and making her forget the strange years she had spent with Lisa and Richard-when she had been the instructor!

Drowsy under the summer sun, Kathleen unconsciously began to press her thighs together-making the cheeks of her bottom clench and unclench in a subtle, but visible movement of lust. The bikini-pants left a fair portion of tanned arse exposed on either side of their cutaway embrace, and the squirming of the partially covered globes soon attracted Lisa's attention. The girl was sitting cross-legged on the scented grass, sipping lemonade through a straw, but when she saw the unmistakably aroused condition of the Governess, her eyes met Richard's in a silent and meaningful stare.

Quietly, Lisa moved to Kathleen's side. The woman was raised slightly off the ground by the inflated lilo, her body outstretched and already warm with perspiration from the blazing sun. Lisa knelt beside Kathleen, her hands going down on the Governess's back. Softly, the girl's fingertips began to glide over the damp, heated skin-caressing so gently that Kathleen thought for several minutes that the sweet pressure was a part of her daydream!

It wasn't until Lisa unhooked the back of her bikini top and Kathleen felt her breasts no longer held tightly by the bra that she understood what was really happening…

“Mmmm…” She tried to be stern with the girl, but it was terribly difficult to resist the cool touch of Lisa's fingers. They travelled completely over her naked back now, gliding from her shoulders down to the base of her spine; working her steadily into a state of acquiescent pleasure, Kathleen couldn't move. She lay pinned by her own desire, her bosom half naked as the frail bikini cups fell down the slopes of her breasts and permitted the girl to massage her: feebly telling herself that, if Lisa went too far, she would-of course! — immediately stop her.

But quite soon there were two pairs of hands touching her, as Richard joined his step-sister and ran his fingers slowly along the upper curves of her thighs-slipping them between Kathleen's legs and gradually insinuating his right hand so that it fondled at the plump mound of her sex. Unwillingly, yet of her own accord, Kathleen eased her thighs open. The boy immediately placed his palm squarely on the intimate zone halfway between her anus and her cunt: pressing down into the hot, bikini-covered place and stroking firmly over and over again, at the sexy heat of the woman's crotch.

For the first time since their original orgy, Kathleen was taking a completely passive role. She kept her head cradled in her arms, hugging the front of her body into the sticky rubber surface of the lilo, and submitting to their wandering fingers with a guilty conscience-and a great deal of pleasure! When Richard fitted his fingers into the waistband of her bikini briefs, she raised herself slightly-lifting her belly from the lilo so that he could tug the lower half of her swimsuit down past her buttocks and thighs. By the time the pants were completely off, Lisa had worked the bra portion of the bikini away from Kathleen's breasts. The bosoms now pressed nakedly into the warm, patterned lilo; their nipples erecting as they were driven deep into the resilient, fully-inflated mattress by the weight of Kathleen's body.

The Governess could heard Lisa and Richard whispering together, but their brief conversation was too low for her to distinguish the words. However, when Richard came around to the front of the lilo and crouched down bringing his swimsuited cock on a level with her face-Kathleen understood exactly what the lascivious children had been planning! Her heavy-lidded eyes opened. She brought her head up, leaning on her elbows, and gazed at the thick bulge which was thrusting towards her face. Richard eased himself closer to Kathleen-kneeling with his thighs open so that his sex was now brushing the woman's mouth. The weapon, though not erect, was promisingly large; and from her close viewpoint Kathleen could see clearly the shape of the crown: its swollen ridge of flesh, where the foreskin was gathered up in folds around the base of the prepuce, sticking out and clearly defined beneath the tightness of the bathing trunks.

She kissed it with a lingering pressure of her lips, feeling the meat harden instantly and swelling into stiffness against her mouth. Richard placed his hands on Kathleen's shoulders as she commenced to run her lips up and down his growing shaft-kneading his fingers into the warm, round flesh and slowly passing both his hands over her chest until they reached her breasts. Carefully, he scooped the globes up beneath his palms. They lay heavily in his fingers, creaming outwards and then squashing into an elongated shape as the boy squeezed more tightly into their plump orbs and began to fondle them with an experienced, masterful touch-as if they were firm mounds of dough which needed to be modelled while they were still warm and pliable…

And as Kathleen started to release his prick from the trunks-easing the snug-fitting swimsuit over his now ragingly erect tool-Richard's fingers wandered to her teats. The nipples were caressed lightly but constantly; as the Governess had taught him. He tickled around their stems first, then rubbed gently along the rising, stiffening buds-coaxing them until they flowered to a hard, feverish erection.

She sighed breathlessly, quickly tugging the trunks halfway down Richard's thighs, her open mouth blowing hotly on the revealed prick for a moment before her lips clamped urgently around its crown and she drew it swiftly between her parted teeth. Its swelling almost filled her mouth now: Richard's penis having achieved a complete thickening, it was vibrating strongly under the tantalising licking of the woman's tongue. Kathleen had grown to know the boy's cock so well during the past three years that she was familiar with every inch of the flesh: understanding exactly where his rod was most vulnerable, where it could be aroused to the most intense ecstasy by a certain pressure of her tongue…

She held it tightly between her lips, sucking midway down the shaft, her tongue seeking out those areas just behind the glans where Richard's prick was especially sensitive. It twitched urgently, thrusting in and out of her mouth as she tormented the rigid meat-and the boy's fingers scrabbled wickedly at Kathleen's teats, pinching at the huge nipples and jiggling her breasts to and fro as he swung his hands from left to right; stretching the crimson cherries to their limit and rubbing their gristly texture between his forefingers and thumbs.

Lisa, meanwhile, straddling Kathleen's legs at the woman's knees, was massaging firmly into the loose-fleshed buttocks. Her slim, tapering fingers worked deeply into the arse globes, opening and closing them with a kneading pressure. She stared down, bending forward, seeing the cheeks splay under the insistence of her hands; exposing the long dark crease and the small but easily-stretched hole of Kathleen's anus. It widened in a sexy, pink-rimmed slot each time Lisa parted the woman's bottom-and a little further down, gaping more clearly in a long, red puffy slit, she observed the thicker wound of her Governess's cunt…

Wafted on the hot summer air, the twin odours of the two holes came up into Lisa's nostrils. They smelt particularly pungent and exciting, merging with one another to form a spicy, intimate musk: and the girl soon wriggled herself down between Kathleen's thighs-pushing her face against the thrilling, intimate flesh; her eager lips sucking first at the rich orbs of arse, then delving urgently between the cheeks to kiss directly onto the Governess's rear orifice. She stuck her tongue out, burrowing the wet muscle forward until it began to slide deeply into the back-entrance, holding both cheeks widely open with her hands and pressing her nose to the warm cleavage at the base of Miss Wynter's spine.

There was a sticky wetness against her chin as Lisa tongued the Woman's anus. It came from Kathleen's agitated pussy, the aroused slit oozing a steady stream of honey-dew as she sucked on Richard's prick and herself received a very thorough arse-reaming from the boy's stepsister. Within a few minutes, Lisa had wriggled further downwards and had applied her lips to Kathleen's cunt: gluing her mouth firmly to the rear of her Governess's body and guzzling greedily at the wet wound.

Kathleen had opened her legs to make them form into a widely inverted V-her haunches writhing and her thighs tensing at the two sources of pleasure which she was enjoying. Her nipples were on fire from the constant stimulation given them by Richard's fingers; her mouth ached from sucking at the boy's cock; her quim felt more and more itchy as Lisa's tongue darted around and around inside the hot-fleshed hole… but she couldn't bring herself to stop the wonderful experience, even though she knew that it would be more difficult than before to bid the sexy young couple goodbye…

They had been apt pupils, Kathleen thought excitedly. Lisa's tongue lapped beautifully against her clitoris-keeping the red stalk in a constant state of titivation: making it swell thickly and bringing her to one copious climax after another… the spurting love-juice trickling down the girl's throat and causing Lisa to make rude but thrilling slurping noises at she valiantly kept her mouth pressed tightly to the spending slit.

The threesome made a lascivious picture on the quiet, respectable lawn; cut off from prying eyes by the high fence, although none of their neighbours would have suspected that such a orgiastic scene could be taking place in their vicinity. From the cloudless blue sky, marred only by the thin vapour trails of a jet 'plane, Only the sun looked down on their pleasure: burning its rays into their naked flesh, rippling their bodies with a clean hot light as they kissed and sucked at each other's most private places…

Kathleen tried vainly to bring Richard's cock to a climax. No matter how skillfully, how temptingly she worked her lips up and down its swollen, pulsing shaft, he kept his self-control and refused to jerk into his orgasm. She wanted so much to taste the frothy nectar of his spunk. It would ease the fierce torment in her nipples to gulp down his manly sperm, letting the thick bubbles wash into her mouth in the strong, swift jets which she loved to feel. In the early stages of their love-making, it had been easy to force the boy's ejaculation. Whenever she wanted it, Kathleen had only to apply her lips more tightly to his penis and wring them violently up and down… within a few seconds, the seed would erupt-his shuddering cock unable to withstand such a persuasive fondling.

But not now! Richard had gained too much experience. He could resist the pressure of her mouth (or her cunt for that matter) and hold out until he desired to shoot. And no amount of licking and sucking by Kathleen could bring about his climax!

She was panting harshly now, her strenuous efforts and the continual stimulation of Lisa's lips and tongue as the girl petted her cunt making the Governess feel exhausted. The unremitting heat of the sun also contributed to her enervating condition, steaming her body and causing beads of perspiration to break out all over he flesh. Lisa lapped at the salty liquid, swallowing it together with the stronger liquid of Kathleen's spunk as she drank deeply at the fat, throbbing fountain of the woman's quim.

And Richard, feeling the droplets of sweat running over the deep curves of Kathleen's breasts and onto his fingers, paused in his fondling of the titties. He dipped his annointed digits quickly into his mouth, sucking them dry before returning them once more to the very slippery nipples.

The urge to fuck was mounting in the boy by this time. Richard slipped his cock free of Kathleen's lips-not without difficulty, for the Governess clung desperately to her prize, gripping her mouth tightly around the staff as she felt it withdrawing-and pulled Lisa up from her position on the woman's back. Lisa pouted, but obeyed her step-brother's request: changing places with him and ripping down the lower half of her bikini so that Kathleen could console herself with the wet hole of her sex. Kathleen grunted as Richard's weight came heavily onto her buttocks and spine, his well-greased prick sticking homily between the cleft of her arse and riding thickly against the hot furrow. He stretched his body out, bringing his face down on Kathleen's neck-nape and planting moist kisses behind her ear and along the backs of her shoulders. His hands stole beneath her armpits and grabbed once again at the jutting bosoms which were partly resting on the cushion of the lilo, partly sticking out in the air. While he levered his cock downwards and tucked its crown warmly under the woman's thighs so that it could seek the cunt which his step-sister had just been sucking, Richard fondled Kathleen's nipples: now pressing the teats to make them disappear into the elastic flesh of her breasts-forming two neat little hollows into which the boy thrust his fingers. He dug his digits deeply into the creamy skin, pushing harder and harder, feeling the nipples squirming and trying to spring back to their rightful position. And when he did release them, easing the pressure of his fingers and allowing the buds to pop into view again, they had grown even harder than before! The stiff cherry-stones flared hugely as Richard held them out for Lisa to see-his two forefingers supporting the nipples, letting the hot, throbbing bits of gristle rest on the pads of his digits.

The girl nodded approvingly at the sight; her eyes half-closed with pleasure as Kathleen's lips delved between the opening of her pussy and began to suck. Lisa's cunt had also grown considerably since her Governess had first started to stimulate it: the folds of pink flesh which formed a shelter for the humid cave becoming thicker and more elastic; the vulva itself wider than normal for a girl of her age, thanks to the constant, regular attention it had received from both finger and prick. (Kathleen had selflessly instructed Richard in the gentle art of penetration, showing the boy how to fuck his step-sister's virgin slit and break her hymen with little or no discomfort to Lisa…)

Lisa's pubic hair was also thicker, although the strands remained blonde and silky; and Kathleen, as she licked up the funnel and wiggled her tongue across the girl's clitoris, couldn't refrain from congratulating herself on the success of her sex-instruction. Lisa had, perhaps, been the most forward of her pupils: learning even more quickly than Richard how to enjoy subtle stimulations and how to give such pleasures in return. The sensitivity of the clitoris, for example… As Kathleen lapped at the enlarged red stalk with her tongue, she recalled how rapidly the little protuberance had grown since the early days of their sex games. It was now so prominent and stiff that it required merely the slightest touch of a finger-or, better still, a tongue-for the caress to provoke Lisa into an orgasm.

Even as she thought this, Kathleen became conscious that Lisa's hips were working urgently backwards and forwards; thrusting in hard, tight movements that made the girl's wet, open sex-slit rub fiercely against her mouth. The juice spurted forth, flowing into the Governess's throat and clinging stickily to her tongue-just as Richard found the slot of her cunt and sent his prick driving strongly up the channel, penetrating her in a single, ruthless motion that sent glorious waves of passion spreading throughout the woman's body.

His stomach was pressed against her buttocks, welding their flesh, the skin sticking together with the adhesion of their sweat, and Kathleen's arse cheeks were slightly open, sending a greater heat searing up into Richard's abdomen as the raw hole of her anus burned against the boy's under-belly. His prick was rising into her cunt from an angle-and the large mounds of her bottom which wobbled like slabs of pink jelly as Richard fucked in and out required a greater effort than usual if he was to slam his cock to the hilt each time it entered her slit.

He clung to the woman like a leech, his body fastened to her back as if they were two rutting dogs. Beneath them, the lilo bounced steadily: its air-filled mattress providing a none-too-secure bed for their lust. One of Richard's hands crept beneath Kathleen's tummy. He slid his palm down to the moist, furry triangle and his fingers began to fondle at the hard ridge of flesh, feeling the powerful movement of his knob through the skin-its thick, surging rhythm seeming to make Kathleen's pubis swell out each time it fully entered her quim, and then subside for a second or two while he withdrew again.

Soon, his fingers ventured to the extremely wet lips of her sex. They stroked the open flaps, occasionally touching his own prick and examining the thick, juicy moisture which coated it-the pungent slime of his Governess's love-cream now running freely and seeping out of her crack in a rich, apparently endless trickling…

Without warning, a sudden flash of horror struck through Kathleen Wynter's mind. A dreadful premonition, a terrible guilt, struck like lightning across her pleasure and shattered it; and although she was unable to name the awful numbing fear which created this sensation, Kathleen couldn't resist the urge to violently scramble free of Richard's quickly thrusting cock and fight her way clear of the couple!

Lisa and Richard were too amazed to restrain her. They cried out in simultaneous frustration and anger, but their limbs were paralysed-they couldn't believe that the woman would terminate the wonderful joining of their bodies when-only a moment before-she had been sucking Lisa's cunt with gusto and receiving the fucks of Richard's cock so gratefully!

“I–I can't go on!” Kathleen sobbed. “You don't understand-but I mustn't let you seduce me like this!”

She couldn't begin to explain to the children, nor could she provide any logical reason to her own mind to account for her strange behaviour. In tears, and with her body shuddering with longing-a longing she knew she had to suppress-Kathleen snatched up her bikini and hurried into the house…

Lisa and Richard stared at each other, incredulous and tormented by the painful ache in their genitals: the girl biting her lower lip in anguish as she felt the throbbing emptiness in her quim; the boy wincing as his prick twitched redly, its glistening shaft now rearing uselessly up against his stomach.

Their need was too great to be delayed while they ran after Kathleen and persuaded her not to be so stupid. Uttering strange, guttural animal-sounds, Lisa and Richard fell into each other's arms. They sprawled together on the hot grass, their naked bodies yearning for fulfilment, their arms reaching around one another, their loins straining passionately and Richard's pulsing cock stabbing frantically at the soft wet meat of his step-sister's cunt.

It slid into the eager mouth like a knife slicing into rancid butter. The straining, rigid flesh of the boy's knob crammed tightly into Lisa's slit, pushing aside the moist and agitated lips, fucking straight up into the depths of her quim with a force that buried it in one swift movement to its hilt. He reached beneath her, scooping his hands into her buttocks and lifting the girl upwards. She opened her thighs to their widest extent-her legs quivering from toe to crotch on the warm, well-trimmed grass-jerking her hips up and down as she received the mighty strokes of Richard's knob.

Wildly, they screwed to a climax: the battering force of the boy's sex-weapon filling Lisa with hot, satisfying sperm as he pounded out his orgasm within moments of entering her cunt. The long, sustained outpouring was physically satisfying, but their emotions were still in a state of turmoil at Kathleen's unaccountable disappearance at the height of the orgy. They remained locked together, the powerful shaft of Richard's prick continuing to vibrate inside his step-sister's quim even though the last drops of spunk had dripped from the weapon. A sense of isolation came over the couple, an emptiness that baffled and perplexed them…

Breathing deeply, with their bodies tightly entwined and their flesh bathed with perspiration, they didn't hear the crunch of gravel as their father's car entered the driveway to the garage at the side of the garden.

Nor did they realise that John Cunningham was now striding down the path towards them, his features undergoing a frightful series of contortions. At first, he had merely glimpsed their naked figures and assumed that they were romping playfully-in itself a misdemeanour which warranted serious punishment. But as he drew closer to the children, seeing that their bodies were motionless, that Richard was lying on top of Lisa and that the girl's legs were spread wide beneath her step-brother, Cunningham's face turned white and his hands knotted into big, angry fists.

For a moment, as he towered over the couple, and as they turned their startled, fearful eyes upwards, he half-believed that he was imagining the scene; that his mind was playing a cruel trick, that the loathsome and impossible degradation before him was a figment of fantasy…

Then Cunningham rubbed his knuckles fiercely into his eyes-as if trying to wipe away the dreadful imprint on his retinas, — and when he removed his hands, seeing the same filthy picture confronting him, he lost all control: punching wildly and furiously into the flesh he had helped to create, veins standing out on his forehead like thick red cords as he struck them again and again…

CHAPTER FOUR

It was conceivable that force of his violent anger might have led John Cunningham into killing the boy and girl with his bare hands. But, fortunately, the brutal punishment which he was inflicting on Lisa and Richard was interrupted by Kathleen before any serious injuries had been suffered by the children.

She came running out into the garden directly she heard their screams-a dressing gown donned hastily but concealingly around her body. After a strenuous blows from the man's wildly swinging fists, she succeeded in calming him down a little… sufficiently, at any rate, for Cunningham to stop beating the helpless, cringing young couple and lurch away towards the house; his body shaking with fury.

Kathleen managed to drive home the message that his violence would attract the attention of the neighbours, and it was this factor above all other considerations which persuaded Cunningham to desist. Whispering quickly to the children, urging them to keep out of the way while she talked to their father-and pleading with terrified eyes for them not to implicate her in the scandal which had erupted-Kathleen followed Cunningham through the French windows and into the lounge; waiting and trying to control the trembling of her knees while he poured himself several stiff brandies and gulped them back in swift succession.

He kept his back to the Governess while he drank, and when he finally turned to face the woman Cunningham's face was drained of colour-his normally ruddy complexion a pasty white. He sank heavily into an armchair. His eyes had lost their fire and seemed glazed; his voice was defeated and a mere shadow of its former deep timbre.

“Did you know about this?”

Kathleen shook her head, not trusting herself to speak just yet.

“I can't believe it!” Cunningham whispered. “They had everything! I did everything a man without a wife could do… they never wanted for a damn thing!”

Kathleen knew better than to contradict him. She hovered anxiously near the French windows, which were now closed, listening until the long tirade of his self-pitying monologue had exhausted itself. Cunningham eventually lapsed into silence, and she summoned up the courage to approach him. Tentatively, Kathleen suggested that perhaps the best-the only-solution might be to separate Lisa and Richard in the hope that their forbidden intimacy would be allowed to die a natural death.

“Please try not to be too hard on them, Mr. Cunningham,” she pleaded. “I realise what a terrible shock this discovery has been for you, but they aren't unique: oversensitive, introverted youngsters who don't form relationships outside their own family have unfortunately been mutually attracted before. History is full of-.”

“I don't give a damn about history-or your psychological explanations!” Cunningham roared furiously. “To think that children of mine could…” He broke off for a few moments, obviously close to tears. Then: “But you're right about separating them. By God!” Cunningham vowed, clenching his fists again. “I'm going to make sure that neither of them set eyes on each other again! Tell them to come in here-we're going to settle this right now!”

Nervously-more afraid now that either Lisa or Richard would expose her part in their sex-games-Kathleen pushed one of the windows open and called to the children.

There were bruises on their bodies and their mouths were bleeding where Cunningham's brutal fists had scored into the lips. But hey seemed strangely defiant, holding their heads high and looking their father in the face; although both Lisa and Richard took care to keep a distance from the seated, glowering man-and diplomatically stood well apart from each other as well. They had donned their swimsuits, and Kathleen had to turn her face from them in case she betrayed the involuntary excitement which she couldn't keep from her eyes at the sight of the half-nude bodies which her hands and her lips had known so intimately…

John Cunningham controlled himself with a visible effort. He stabbed an accusing finger at the guilty pair, his hand shaking.

“From this moment on you're strangers to me!” he thundered. “You'll be provided for, but I never want to see either of you again as long as I live! I don't want to hear explanations-there's nothing either of you can say, nothing you can do to defend yourselves! Just think yourselves damn lucky I didn't kill you out there in the garden…

“You, Richard!” The boy quailed as Cunningham turned the full force of his attention on him. “I'm sending you to a private boarding school. You'll go at the end of the week! It's something I'd been planning for you in any case, but now I can see I was foolish to hesitate.” He got up from his chair and towered over Richard, finding great difficulty in keeping his hands from striking his son again.

“They'll make a man of you there!” Cunningham pro-missed, tight-lipped and sneering. “They'll knock these filthy ideas out of your head! And when they've turned you into a healthy, red-blooded specimen-when they've beaten and disciplined you into shape-you'll be prepared for entry into Sandhurst military academy!

“Yes!” Cunningham nodded to himself with grim satisfaction. “And if you fail the entrance exams, my boy, do you know what will happen to you?” He leaned so close to Richard that his son could feel the spray of Cunningham's breath. “I'll have you committed to a mental hospital, that's what I'll do! I'll pull all the strings I can-not that it will be difficult to have you declared insane: not after your disgusting behaviour with your sister this afternoon!!”

Cunningham paused for breath. Nobody dared to speak, no one ventured to break the silence which had now fallen upon the room. The rays of the sun glinted through the French windows and then faded as a grey cloud drifted across its face; reducing the light to a pale shadow of its former glory.

“And as for you, you dirty little bitch!” Lisa flinched, her blue-gray eyes blinking rapidly as she awaited her father's decision…

“I don't know which one of you is more to blame, but both of you share the guilt-and the punishment!”

He creased his brow, apparently uncertain as yet of the most fitting retribution for Lisa's part in their “crime”. Kathleen Wynter glanced surreptitiously at the girl. Now, if ever, was the time for Lisa to reveal her participation in their sexual wrong-doing. Without doubt, John Cunningham's anger would then be deflected on Kathleen-as he would most certainly hold the Governess responsible for his children's misbehaviour, even if Lisa admitted that she and her brother were already lovers before Miss Wynter came on the scene…

But Lisa remained silent. A strange but honourable code seemed to exist between Richard and herself: and Kathleen sighed with profound relief as she momentarily met Lisa's eyes and understood that her secret was safe. The children were willing to accept all the blame themselves-and Kathleen felt the cold knife of conscience turning in her heart, a sharp stab of guilt resulting from her inability to own up and perhaps spare Lisa and Richard some measure of their father's wrath. But even if she couldn't bring herself to confess, surely there was something she could do to ease their punishment?

Beirut! The private school in the Lebanon!!

Quickly, before Cunningham could make his decision, Kathleen came forward and discreetly plucked at the man's sleeve, drawing him aside so that they could confer in one corner of the room-out of the children's hearing.

She made the proposal in a hushed voice, reminding Cunningham that, although she had perhaps been remiss in not appreciating Lisa and Richard's terrible intimacy, she would certainly be on her guard in future-and would ensure that the girl, under her chaperonage, was kept under the strictest possible guard: never let out of her sight for an instant…

Kathleen managed to look the man directly in the eyes as she spoke, putting such a burning conviction in her gaze and in her words that Cunningham eventually nodded his tentative approval.

“Mind you,” he told Kathleen gruffly. “I'll have to fly out there myself to inspect the place before I let her enroll. But on the face of it, your plan seems to be the best solution in the circumstances. And you say that you won't be returning to England for a vacation?”

“Not for at least three years,” Kathleen assured him. “And there are, of course, several other English teachers at the school who will also keep a close watch on Lisa. It's naturally a highly-respectable establishment: run mainly for the children of diplomats who are based in Beirut. There won't be any possible danger of bad influences on the girl…”

“She's already been subjected to bad influences!” Cunningham growled. “Her damned brother!” He ran a hand through his thick black hair, ruffling it and giving himself a boyish, tousled look that gave Kathleen a brief glimpse of the kind of man Cunningham might have been… if he hadn't suffered in the past and allowed himself to grow bitter and puritanical. Insanely, she thought for one fleeting second of attempting to seduce him-overcoming his hatred of sex and showing him that his intense indignation was misplaced…

The madness of such a scheme made Kathleen tremble again. She couldn't hope to undo the years of ingrained loathing for female flesh with one gesture, however tempting the notion appeared! No, her only chance now was to salvage the children's' future…

“I don't know whose fault it is really,” Cunningham was saying-more to himself than to Kathleen. “I can't blame you any more than I can blame myself for what has happened. If only they'd inherited my personality, instead of their mothers' traits! Like Phyllis and Judith, their minds are sickly; their souls are weak and inbred…”

Kathleen stopped herself as she was on the brink of blurting out that it was precisely because Lisa and Richard had inherited their father's earlier character-his amoral, inquisitive lust-that they had succumbed to the temptation of turning to each other for relief. The urges which possessed them could find no alternative outlet, thanks to the restrictions and prohibitions which their father had imposed on them. But it was both useless and stupid to tell Cunningham where his error lay: and Kathleen contented herself with the knowledge that she would at least have one of the children under her continued care-though Richard, she feared, would have to be left to the tender mercies of the private school selected for him by his father…

Within a month, the last tearful goodbyes had been exchanged. Cunningham had moved with his customary swiftness, taking an overnight flight to Beirut and thoroughly checking every detail of the school, returning to England and signing the papers which would commit Lisa to a three-year term-expressly forbidding the school's authorities to permit her to take a vacation outside the Lebanon during this period. He also stipulated that his daughter must be under constant supervision-not only in school hours, but at evenings, weekends and during the holidays.

Visas and tickets were issued in record time, and Richard's enrolment at Fernleigh Preparatory School a secluded and very expensive establishment situated deep in the heart of the Kent countryside-was arranged with equal speed. Cunningham applied himself to the operation with the single-minded thoroughness which he had used to such devastating effect in his business life; no detail was overlooked, no formality neglected…

He had expressly forbidden the children to see each other or speak even over the telephone prior to Lisa's departure. They were kept under keen surveillance, night and day, but Richard nevertheless managed to snatch a few brief moments with his step-sister on the eve of their separation-vowing to her in a voice shaky with emotion that he wouldn't be broken by the discipline of his new school; that he would find some way to be with her again… before the eternity of the three years had elapsed.

Cunningham remained at the house with Richard while Miss Wynter supervised the loading of her luggage and the packing of Lisa's pitifully few belongings into the private car which was to take them to London Airport. He refused to bid farewell to his daughter. John Cunningham confined both Richard and himself to the upper storey of the house until the girl's heartbreaking sobs had been drowned by the car engine-as it picked up speed and scrunched noisily down the driveway.

During the long, miserable week which followed, he also refused to speak another word to his son. And when the day at last arrived for Richard to set off on the journey to his boarding school (in the charge of a burly and well-briefed valet), the boy experienced a sense of relief: almost welcoming the isolation and the forthcoming atmosphere of discipline and quasi-military training. It wouldn't-it couldn't! — be worse than the terrible oppression he now felt in his father's presence…

When he was finally alone in the house, its strange emptiness and its tangible mood of guilt and perverted desire pervading every room, Cunningham knew that to save his sanity he had to obliterate from his mind all memory of the terrible sin which his children committed. Some men would have turned to alcohol. Others to drugs or suicide. But Cunningham found a safer means of erasing his pain and his crushing though largely subconscious-sense of failure.

Having placed standing orders with his bank to meet all necessary payments in respect of Lisa and Richard's education, he plunged furiously into a new phase of work: starting fresh companies, taking on more and more responsibilities, never pausing except for hastily snatched meals and irregular sleep.

And soon, by deliberately contrived effort, he succeeded in forgetting that his children were incestuously attracted-succeeded almost in forgetting that he had a son and a daughter at all. School reports were scanned quickly and given to his secretary for filing. Any other mail with a Beirut or a Fernleigh postmark was destroyed unopened..

CHAPTER FIVE

They had arrived in the midsummer heat of the Lebanon, flying down into the dazzling sunshine and seeming to skim over the clear blue water of the Mediterranean before their BOAC jet landed them safety at Beirut international airport.

Lisa's homesickness was banished almost at once by the exotic surroundings; her nostrils inhaling the mixture of salt sea spray, scented with the pines which grew in great abundance around the perimeters of the city; her eyes widening at sights she had previously glimpsed only in travel books. Kathleen proved to be a capable guide, even though this was the first time she had set foot outside Europe. Before driving out to the school-which was situated to the north of Beirut itself, in a small town called Byblos-the Governess treated Lisa to a sight-seeing tour around the capital: hiring one of the numerous carriage-and-pairs which took tourists on a leisurely, meandering excursion through the ancient and modern quarters of Beirut, passing the main boulevard of Rue Hambra with its neon-lit shops, cinemas and restaurants; then abruptly turning into a totally different world-as if the buggy was a time machine that traversed the centuries as well as the miles! — by entering one of the narrow, intimate streets (called “souks", as Kathleen instructed Lisa) where goldsmiths, silk merchants and jewellers displayed their wares from open-fronted, tiny and over-crammed shops.

The city was truly cosmopolitan, Lisa discovered. It combined the best of the Arab and French cultures, offering to visitors the attractions of mosques, a near-perfect climate and the fascination of unpaved, dusty streets which led into the old quarter of the town-the unspoilt, primitive Beirut-together with superb restaurants and that indefinable yet unmistakable air of sophistication which the French had brought with them when they invaded the Lebanon so many years ago.

“They call it 'the Paris of the Orient',” Kathleen smiled. She was holding Lisa's hand lightly as they jogged slowly along, feeling happy that the girl looked so bright-eyed and excited; the first time she had worn such an expression since her father had discovered her with Richard in the garden. “But it's much more than just another Paris, you know,” Kathleen continued, her own heart lightened as they rode at a snail's pace through the bustle and the tangy smells of the bazaars. “There are so many things to do here-or so I'm told! And guess what? Did I mention that one of my old boy friends is living here in Beirut?”

Lisa shook her head absently. She was only paying scant attention as Kathleen rambled on: more enthralled with the novel and interesting scenery around her than in her Governess's reminiscences. She had no idea that Beirut would be like this. Lisa had imagined a dirty Mediterranean backwater-a completely primitive and commercialised Arabian resort-not the obviously sophisticated, jet-age city in which she found herself. It seemed to open new vistas in her mind, awakening her to possibilities for excitement which had never occurred to Lisa before. Her cloistered, claustrophobic life had concealed such romantic urges; but now she was beginning to realise that her suffocating intimacy with Richard had prevented her from so many wonderful experiences…

“I found out by accident just a few days before we left,” Kathleen was chattering gaily. “During my final interview at the British Council, someone who had just returned from Beirut happened to mention a man named Louis Chabrol. Imagine! I knew him years ago… Well,” she corrected herself hastily. “Some time ago, anyway! Apparently, he's become quite a notorious figure in the city: he owns one of the biggest night-clubs here-and he's also earned a rather scandalous reputation. I can't wait to learn all the details at first hand!

“Of course…” Kathleen patted Lisa's bare knee affectionately, reassuringly. The girl was wearing a thin, print dress which was as close to a “mini” as respectability would permit. “… I wouldn't dream of keeping you a prisoner in the school-you did realise that, didn't you, darling? We'll be able to slip away as often as we like: every weekend if that's what you want! After all, Byblos is only twenty-odd miles from Beirut.” She squeezed Lisa's knee with a meaningful pressure of her hand. “And even if Louis doesn't remember me, we won't have any difficulty in finding new friends to show us around…”

In her enthusiasm, Kathleen Wynter had unfortunately overlooked one vital factor: the disparity in their ages!

She had forgotten that Lisa was only 17, while Kathleen herself belonged to a different generation-even though her 34 years rested so lightly upon her beautiful shoulders. And it didn't occur to the Governess, as she prattled on about the wonderful times they would share together, that the girl might be more attracted to members of her own age group now that she had gained her freedom…

After lunching at Ajami-one of the most famous restaurants in Beirut, at a table which overlooked Saint George's Bay-Kathleen telephoned the airport and requested their chauffeur to pick them up. It was time to begin the drive to Byblos, and although Lisa was feeling rather sleepy (her senses befuddled by the consumption of several glasses of Arak, the Lebanese national drink, made from grape alcohol and anis, and the unfamiliar rich food), she enjoyed the breathtaking scenery as the air-conditioned limousine climbed steadily up the coast road towards her future home.

The sparkling blue bays were soon stretched out below them like a series of miniature lagoons; dotted among the shore and glistening with breathtaking beauty under the enormous white sun. They passed close to the Casino of Lebanon-situated on a high hill and erected at a cost of over four million dollars. It was like a palace, Lisa thought enviously, its pale blue pillars inlaid with glass and reflecting the glory of the afternoon sunshine. She must certainly persuade Kathleen to take her there one evening; if not to gamble, at least to enjoy the thrill of watching vast sums of money exchanging hands across the tables. She wasn't surprised when her Governess informed her that the Casino was reputed to be the largest of its kind in the world…

Eventually, their car turned into a cypress-lined driveway and they had arrived at the school. Lisa was taken like a sleepwalker to her room-which she would share with one other girl, at present attending a class although her personal belongings were scattered untidily around the pleasant, sunny “bed-sitter.” She was only half aware of Kathleen's hands undressing her, the excitement having finally caught up with her and rendering her utterly but blissfully exhausted…

Hours later, Lisa was awakened by feeling the bed sheet being drawn gently away from her body. She stirred, still clinging to the sweet memory of her dreams, but it was too warm in the room now and she welcomed the sensation of cool air on her flesh: stretching prettily and not realising for several minutes that she wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing!

Lisa opened her eyes. Standing over the bed, smiling down at her, was another girl-presumably the roommate whose clothes and various knick-knacks were strewn so carelessly about the chairs and on the floor.

“Hi! I'm Candice Badel. You must be Lisa Cunningham-welcome to Byblos!”

She was clearly an American, probably from one of the more Southern States judging by her accent. Lisa controlled an impulse to cover the nakedness of her body-fearing that the girl would immediately mark her down as a prude, a naive little virgin-but she couldn't help squeezing her thighs together, instinctively hiding her sex and leaving only the small mound of pubic bush visible to Candice's frank, unhurried appraisal.

In the short space of time before Lisa answered her greeting, the American girl's eyes had wandered leisurely over her body: finally nodding approval, as if she was well satisfied with what she saw.

“Miss Frazer asked me to rouse you,” Candice explained, sitting informally on the edge of Lisa's bed. “She wants to see you in about an hour-just for a quiet chat and afternoon tea. She's a bit prim and proper, but she doesn't interfere with us too much!”

Lisa had taken an instant liking to Candice. The girl seemed to be very poised and self-assured, a first impression that was confirmed as Candice began to tell her about the school routine, about the opportunities for fun and amusement outside school hours, about the freely available-very eager! — young Arab boys whose parents were fantastically wealthy…

“… on the surface, of course, it's a dull old place with a heavy curriculum so that our parents think we're spending all our time with our noses in text books. But that's only half the story!” Candice smiled winningly, showing a set of incredibly white teeth-like a movie star's Lisa thought a little enviously. The American girl was casually dressed for the warm climate, her arms bare and well-tanned, a nicely-filled brassiere showing through the thin cotton dress that had rucked up carelessly around her thighs. Her hair was longer than Lisa's, but tied in two pigtails: creating an effect of curious contrast-making Candice look like a very young teenager, although the fullness of her body and the sophistication of her language belied this conclusion. She was, Lisa decided, at least 19-possibly 20 years old. And her mouth surely bore more than a trace of lipstick? That alone gave Candice an added allure in Lisa's impressionable eyes: she herself had never been allowed to touch her face with any form of make-up…

As she chatted, her new friend started to untie her pigtails, slowly letting her hair fall down in beautiful, bleached-blonde tresses over her shoulders. Candice shook her head to make the hair swirl across her back, then glanced at her slim gold wristwatch.

“My goodness!” she exclaimed. “Here I am-talking away to you, and you're probably dying for a shower before you meet 'The Dragon'! Come on-.” Candice grabbed Lisa's wrist and yanked the girl forcibly up from the bed. “I'll show you how to work the thermostat…”

The next moment, Lisa found herself being propelled into a plastic-curtained shower stall; and a second later-she shuddered and tried to squirm away as icy-cold jets streamed down on her, shocking her into complete wakefulness and making her to scream shrilly!

Candice, standing in the still-open doorway, laughed helplessly.

“I'm sorry!” she spluttered. “You've just been initiated, Lisa! Everyone has to go through it, I'm afraid! You'll get over the shock in a moment-hey! No, don't! Wait-I've got all my clothes on-!”

Candice, wailing and struggling, was dragged forcibly under the shower by a determined Lisa! The girls struggled together, but it was already too late: Candice was soaked, her pretty dress plastered to her skin and her hair streaming as the icy water poured down! Frantically, she managed to reach up and turn the thermostat control-raising the temperature of the shower quickly, making the spray grow immediately warmer and bearable.

“Oh, you little bitch!” But Candice was laughing again, her brief anger vanishing as she saw the poetic justice of Lisa's attack. “Well,” she giggled, brushing her hair away from her face and unbuttoning her dress at the back. “We're both wringing wet now-why don't we save water and take a shower together?”

Lisa made room for her under the wide arc of the spray, facing Candice and tilting her face back so that the lukewarm, refreshing water splashed directly onto her closed eyelids and her cheeks. When she opened her eyes again, Candice was naked. Far from showing the least sign of inhibition, the American girl drew Lisa's attention to her body: rubbing her hands down over her nicely proportioned breasts and then lifting them out, holding the globes gently beneath her palms so that her room-mate could admire their size and their firmness.

The shower rained sharp droplets onto the tits, striking at the nipples and causing them to stiffen and grow fully erect before Lisa's eyes. Playfully, Candice moved closer until their nude, dripping bodies were almost touching. She released her own breasts, letting them wobble gently back into their relaxed but still upright thrusting position, then calmly put her hands directly on Lisa's titties!

Lisa again closed her eyes, unresisting-as if she had half-expected this advance to be made. Candice fondled her breasts firmly, using a stroking movement of her fingers that filled Lisa with a warm, quivering pleasure. Gently, she put out her own hands and slid them first onto Candice's hips and then around the girl's waist. The skin was rubbery from the moisture which trickled over it, but the girl's flesh had a softness, a yielding plumpness that Lisa found very attractive.

By unspoken consent, they moved tightly into each other's arms. Candice slipped her hands from Lisa's breasts and cuddled her, pressing her fingers into the curve of the girl's spine where Lisa's arse-cleavage began; very slowly moving them downwards into the deep divide, separating the cheeks with a persuasive caress of her hands. She then rubbed an especially inquisitive forefinger into the heart of Lisa's buttocks; making it pause when it reached the tight rear hole and then softly circling the faintly raised bump of the anus in a long, provocative wonderfully exciting massage…

Lisa strained forward against the heat of the other girl's bare body. Their breasts kissed and squashed quickly together, the nipples perking to a bright ruby hardness as they made contact. The girls' naked bellies were now breathing in and out with an impassioned, uneven rhythm-pulsing urgently as Lisa and Candice tightened their embrace, their navels locking in moist intimacy.

It wasn't very long before their lips also met: warm water streaming over their mouths as they kissed shyly at first, then with an increasing pressure that soon parted their teeth and allowed first Lisa's, and then Candice's tongue to slide forward and taste the hot saliva inside their lover's sweet-tasting mouth.

Lisa began to moan, the long weeks of enforced celibacy making her more eager than ever to experience the joys of mutual fondling and kissing. She cupped Candice's bottom in both her hands, returning the girl's caress but swiftly dipping her fingers beneath the cleft of the arse and stretching them up against the wet, slender lips of the cunt. It was hard to tell whether the slit was damp from excitement or from the shower-probably both, Lisa decided! She felt the girl gratefully widening her thighs to assist the exploration; at the same time, gradually sticking her own finger deeply into Lisa's anus…

Although the water was still only lukewarm, the shower stall had grown and humid-the heat of the girls' bodies in the confined space making the air close and adding their perspiration to the wetness which surrounded them. Lisa could only delve partially into Candice's quim from her present position (approaching the girl's sex from the rear, her hand pressed tightly between the full, fleshy buttocks) but she succeeded in opening the deep gash to a sexy extent-sufficient, at any rate, for two of her fingers to disappear inside the slit and frig pleasurably up and down its narrow, hot-walled funnel.

When both girls were highly stimulated, they slipped hand-in-hand from the shower and Lisa was led across the room to where a glass-fronted door opened onto the balcony. She hesitated, fearing that they might be seen if they ventured out and remembering with horror that terrible moment when her father had…

“It's okay,” Candice assured her, stroking Lisa's flank with a loving, lingering caress. “There's a high surround so that we can sunbathe without being spied on… no one can see us…”

Reluctantly, Lisa allowed herself to be persuaded. But Candice was right. Even in a sitting position they were completely concealed from view: and there was a huge bath towel laid out on the stone floor, inviting them to spread their bodies and be assured that no glimpse of their love-play could be observed…

The girls sank eagerly down on the hot, sun-baked towel. They renewed their embrace, Candice spreading herself out on top of Lisa-her strong, tanned arms going about the English girl's waist and again sliding down to the bottom which she seemed to love so much. Their tongues merged, now licking together with fierce, no longer amid laps; writhing in and out of each other's mouths like fat, wet snakes. Lisa could feel the hard hump of Candice's pubis grinding into her own prominent mons, the two sets of blonde bushy hair entwining as Candice rode steadily up and down: using the curved bone of her sex-mound as a kind of foreshortened prick-frigging it skillfully down until the girlish horn rubbed the lips of her lover's cunt.

It really was quite similar to the sensation of a man's cock, Lisa thought with excitement. She sucked gratefully at Candice's tongue as it darted deeply into her mouth, thrusting upwards with her own pubis and learning how to return the girl's thrilling movements. Taking turns, Lisa and Candice worked their respective cunts into a lather of passion. They adopted a vigorous, sexy timing; their rhythm allowing first Lisa's, and then Candice's mons veneris to ride under the other girl's crotch-pressing stiffly into the hot, juicy lips and giving them a brief but glorious bruising…

The sun soon dried their bodies, but under the intoxication of fondling, kissing and rubbing their flesh together, the girls became damp with perspiration. Their breasts seemed to stick against one another, the soft skin of the young orbs becoming adhesive, the bright and prominent nipples quivering as they were fumbled back and forth; while their thighs and lower limbs soon grew moist and gluey with the love-seed which trickled slowly from the girl's pussies.

“I love you! Oh, how I love you!” Candice breathed. She stroked Lisa's hair with her free hand, tenderly caressing the girl's face. A deep, wondering expression of compassion and adoration welled up in Candice's large blue eyes, and then she closed them blissfully-biting down into Lisa's mouth and sucking first the upper lip and then the lower lip strongly between her teeth. Lisa opened her mouth, unresisting. And Candice sucked with a steadily increasing passion, making muffled but obviously ecstatic cries as she dipped her tongue down between the base of Lisa's gums and the girl's cruelly distended lip.

A few minutes of this wild petting fired Lisa for more intimate kisses. She reached down to Candice's hips and pulled the girl gradually upwards-making Candice slide slowly over the front of her body. Reluctantly releasing the juicy morsels of Lisa's lips, the American girl wriggled obediently forward; pausing when her breasts were level with the other girl's mouth and raising herself up on her elbows so that Lisa could give the down-hanging titties a long, generous mouthing.

Lisa chewed wetly on the thick nipples-transferring her lips from One to the other-sucking at the teats until they seemed to! her feverish imagination as if their ripe red udders were yielding a sweet flow of warm milk…

When they popped free of her mouth, Candice's nipples were swollen and had turned to an even deeper shade of crimson. Around them, scored deeply into the white flesh of the breasts, were the sharp indents left by Lisa's teeth: the slow-fading marks giving an appearance of cruel maltreatment to the pure, creamy skin. Candice sighed contentedly, jigging about and making her titties swing heavily from side to side-so close to Lisa's face that they brushed against her nose. Then she levered her body further upwards, bringing her belly down like a soft pillow against her lover's mouth…

Lisa kissed the hot tummy, her lips puckered and moving all over the gently curving slope, past the curl of the navel and down to the whiteness just below the belly-button-where Candice's swimsuit had left a tell-tale tidemark of untanned flesh. She stuck her tongue out and licked tormentingly along the right-hand furrow which made a deep crease from the girl's hip to her crotch. Candice shuddered with beautiful delight.

“Oh, that feels so marvellous!” she gasped. Her thighs opened and she urged her loins even closer to Lisa's mouth. “Please do it again, baby! Tease me some more!”

Willingly, Lisa applied her tongue to the warm furrow, so soft and so moist with salty perspiration. This time, when she had traced completely down the groove, her tongue slipped uncontrollably into the girl's red cunt-its wet, probing tip licking against the slit and curling upwards to stab urgently at the throbbing button of Candice's clitoris. Holding her new friend firmly, with I both hands clamped to the cheeks of her arse, Lisa made the small but wildly stiff stalk twitch about under her tongue. She could hear the moans and the breathless panting which Candice was trying desperately to suppress-knowing that too much noise might attract attention from teachers and pupils who were probably sunning themselves on the adjoining balconies. But Lisa was pitiless.; She recalled in detail how Kathleen Wynter had explained that the clitoris was the most sensitive organ in a girl's body: needing only a brief stimulation to create tremendous excitement-even an orgasm-in the female who was receiving this kind of caress. And she worried at the virile, fishy-tasting bud until Candice sobbed urgently that she must stop… that she couldn't stand it..'. that her quim was growing too itchy and painful!

Under Lisa's fingers, the plump flesh of the girl's buttocks rose and fell-squirming in vain as they tried to thrash up and down. Deliberately, Lisa was holding them as tightly as possible: preventing Candice from giving full vent to her feelings, keeping the girl as nearly motionless as possible…

When Candice finally began to spend, the climax was incredible! Lisa quickly shifted her lips to the pumping wound-clamping her mouth widely over the streaming slit so that she could catch every drop of the precious liquid which Candice was losing. The flow trickled away, but another spurt commenced as Lisa tentatively thrust her tongue into the dripping hole of the girl's vulva and licked it around in an exploring, arousing movement; her nose pressed tightly to the humid mound of Candice's pubis.

When this further climax had also abated, the girls struggled into a new position: Candice squirming quickly around and rolling over so that she could repay Lisa for the glorious excitement she had just received. Lisa spread her thighs boldly, eagerly. She trembled all over as her friend's mouth came down on her quim-feeling the soft, firm bite of Candice's lips as they sucked into her own swollen-lipped sex and the girl's tongue lapped with the speed of a thirsty pussy-cat into the slit.

Lisa again applied her lips to Candice's cunt. The hole was absolutely soaking; the skin around the actual inlet sticky and awash with love-cream that was still dripping from her lovely gash. Candice was once more on top of Lisa, but her naked body now pressed into the English girl from the most exciting position possible: her breasts squashing into Lisa's belly, her crotch grinding down on Lisa's face, her chin resting firmly on the blonde patch of pubic hair… while her mouth guzzled noisily at Lisa's thrusting quim.

As Candice fondled her hands along the soft inner flesh of Lisa's outstretched thighs, Lisa herself scratched arousingly into her room-mate's back; moving her sharp little fingernails from the middle of the girl's spine, passing them across the writhing white cheeks until red criss-cross marks appeared on the beautiful flesh. She occasionally drove her nails between the buttocks, scratching with a lighter touch over the tender crack of Candice's anus, all the time sucking strongly at the pungent mouth which had grown so inflamed and glutinous.

The girls rocked in a sweet, increasing rhythm. They cried out several times as the pitch of their excitement made them breathless and near to swooning, yielding that honeyed mucous-so hot and heavily flavoured! — until their bodies gradually subsided and they felt satisfied and content merely to kiss gently at each other's dripping, tingling cunts…

Lisa wasn't given time to lay quietly and savour the experience, however, for the Headmistress was waiting to officially welcome her to the school! Drowsy and pleasurably aching, she let Candice take her back to the shower so that they could remove all traces of the tell-tale odours of lust; and as she leaned intimately against Candice, her arm wound tightly around the girl's waist, Lisa decided that she was going to enjoy her enforced stay at Byblos School.

For a second or two she felt a stab of conscience. She hadn't once thought of Richard since her arrival in the Lebanon. Poor Richard! He was probably going through hell at that horrible-sounding preparatory school. And Sandhurst would be even worse for him J..

But then Lisa-to her surprise-dismissed her stepbrother from her mind. She had her own life to lead, she decided. And it was up to her to make the best of it…

CHAPTER SIX

Dusk was falling as the two boys walked stealthily along the narrow, winding lane, their ears straining for the sound of pursuit and their heads turning sharply to look over their shoulders at the slightest noise from behind them.

The crescent moon shone wanly out of an overcast sky, lighting their way with shafts of pale illumination. They walked faster, keeping close together, their breath coming harshly and their senses alerted for danger. Fernleigh School now lay two miles from their present position, sprawled out in its private grounds to the south. As they jogged steadily forward, Richard glanced at his companion. The boy caught his eye and grinned: punching Richard's shoulder in a friendly, encouraging fashion, panting quietly:

“Not far now! The lane bends in a moment-and they should be there, waiting for us!”

Richard could feel a stitch beginning to burn in his side. He slowed down a little, letting the other boy move slightly ahead, and realised that it wasn't so much the exercise as his reluctance to meet the two village girls that was making him dawdle. Spencer had said that they often-what was the phrase he used? “put on a show?” Well, he doubted very much that a couple of young country tarts would be able to excite him: after all that he had experienced with Lisa and Miss Wynter. Anything that happened to him after those horny women had given him such thrilling sex-instruction would be an anticlimax. But Spencer, of course, knew nothing about his affair with the Governess and his step-sister. Richard hadn't been able to confide such intimate details-not even to his best friend…

Spencer Prendergast was Richard's senior by just over a year. He had also been removed to Fernleigh Preparatory School by his parents-although Spencer's misbehaviour had taken a more extroverted course than Richard's. He was a wild, rebellious boy of 18; difficult to control as a child, he had proved to be the rotten egg in an otherwise highly respectable middle-class family. By the age of 17, Spencer had already made two girls pregnant, and another-a much younger servant girl-had committed suicide while under the influence of LSD… administered to her by the careless, totally amoral eldest son. This was intended to be Spencer's last chance. Discipline at Fernleigh, followed by an even tougher regime at Sandhurst. If he couldn't be drilled and battered into shape by these institutions, his family had promised to disown him.

But despite the fact that this would mean losing a considerable inheritance, Spencer showed no sign of reformation. He flouted all the rules, brought drugs into the school, slipped out almost every evening for rendezvous with local village girls-and took a keen pleasure in persuading newer boys (such as Richard) to join him in these escapades. Spencer wasn't a particularly complicated personality: he simply didn't give a damn!

Still, unintentionally-for the only wayward member of the Prendergast family wouldn't have raised a finger to help another human being-Spencer had saved Richard from the kind of black despair that could easily have led to suicide. He had invited Richard to be one of his cronies at a time when the boy's morale was at its lowest ebb; some six weeks after Richard had first been delivered into the hands of the school authorities. And Spencer had quickly taught Richard to bear the injustices, the canings and the strict discipline: he had shown him how to harden his nature, sneering at the masters while they lectured and thrashed him; refusing to allow his will to be broken by their measures…

Within the space of a few weeks, Richard's face had begun to lose its delicate, sensitive expression. He became sullen, his eyes set in a perpetual glowering that made the blue-gray irises darken to a listless, inattentive ashen tone. He followed eagerly in Spencer's footsteps, experimenting with the marijuana and pep-pills which the older boy freely passed around. But tonight was Richard's first truancy. He hadn't dared to refuse Spencer's invitation; knowing very well that he would be cast off like an unworthy ally if he turned down the offer to join Spencer in one of his regular “get-togethers” with the village girls. But Richard couldn't forget Lisa. The memory of those hot, passionate nights haunted him, making his body burn at night and he secretly masturbated to relieve the fierce tension in his loins. It seemed pointless to seek satisfaction with other girls. They couldn't begin to compare with the ecstatic, the completely fulfilling joys he had shared with Lisa and Miss Wynter…

Spencer disappeared around a sudden, sharp bend in the lane and Richard quickened his pace, breaking into a jogtrot to catch up with the older boy. Spencer was waiting impatiently for him.

“Jesus!” he complained. “They aren't going to wait all night for us, you know. Come on!”

Richard walked off the lane with Spencer, crossing a dry, weed-filled ditch and passing among the dark, gaunt trees which loomed on either side of the winding secondary road. An owl hooted mournfully, and then-above the faint sounds made by the night animals-came a peal of girlish laughter. The boys stopped. A twig cracked ominously beneath Richard's foot, and Spencer imitated the call of the owl: cupping his hand over his mouth and answering the giggling girls, locating their whereabouts and then grabbing Richard's arm-pulling him through the dense bracken until they came to a small clearing where two teenage girls were standing hand-in-hand. Spencer made a mocking formal bow.

“Richard-I want you to meet Carol and Jean!” he introduced, nudging the boy meaningfully. “Two of the sexiest little bitches in Fernleigh!”

Richard nodded at the girls, not feeling shy in their presence but wishing that he had the courage to tell Spencer that he simply wasn't interested in them. Although it was difficult to see them clearly, Carol and Jean appeared to be a pair of ordinary, reasonably pretty girls; dressed in roll-neck sweaters and dark-coloured miniskirts-their hair style (shoulder-length and probably a mousy blonde), their very similar build and height making them look like twins. They were of an indeterminate age: possibly only 14 or 15; although the fairly prominent swelling of their breasts as a ray of moonlight broke through the trees and illuminated the girls more clearly, suggested that they could be in their late 'teens…

Spencer indicated to Richard that they should settle themselves on the ground, loosening his school blazer and pulling his de off. As Richard sat gingerly on the mossy, damp-feeling earth he glanced at his companion. Spencer was staring avidly at the two girls, his handsome but already depraved features outlined whitely by the moon. He had a rugged build and there was no denying the intelligence which burned in his mind. If it hadn't been for Spencer's streak of recklessness, he could probably have been an exceptional scholar, a prize-winning athlete. Despite his lack of experience in judging human nature, Richard realised that his friend was deliberately wasting his life away… squandering his existence on blind rebellion on cheap thrills such as this evening's “entertainment”…

Neither Carol nor Jean seemed inclined to make an attempt at conversation. Instead, after controlling the new fit of giggling which had seized them, they turned to each other and began to make love! Richard fidgeted uneasily. The girls obviously weren't attracted to each other-at least, not in a sexual way. They avoided the meeting of their lips, pawing and helping one another to undress with awkward, mechanical gestures: so very far removed from the loving, sexy disrobing which Lisa and Miss Wynter had performed in order to excite him…

Carol and Jean were now standing before the boys wearing only their black panties. Crudely, they started to fondle each other's breasts-Carol posing in front of Jean so that her friend's hands could slip beneath her armpits and fasten on the white globes in full view of the watching schoolboys. There was very little passion in the caress, however. Jean's fingers rubbed into the tits as if they were shaping nothing more exciting than plasticine; and it was only when her hands tickled at the nipples that either girl began to show enthusiasm. Then, as the teats perked stiffly into life, Carol sucked at her lower lip and her eyes closed. Her head tilted back, resting against Jean's shoulder and she moved her thighs urgently together-squeezing her upper legs tightly and making the small curve of her pubis strain out more prominently against the black sheen of her briefs.

Soon, the girls changed places and it was Jean's turn to receive the breast-massage. Carol wedged her body up close behind her friend, thrusting forward with her loins so that her crotch pressed snugly into Jean's buttocks. She was certainly the more passionate of the two-and the neat tickling of her fingers across the other girl's bare nipples gave Richard's prick a pleasant surging warmth that started the flesh pulsing thickly. He stole another glance at Spencer. The older boy was openly fingering his sex, pushing his hand down on the hard bulge which had risen in his grey flannel trousers, licking his lips as he savoured the girls' love-play.

The ritual which was being enacted for them by Carol and Jean continued, though it advanced too quickly for Richard's tastes. Lacking finesse-or more probably not caring very much for the game Spencer insisted they perform-the girls ripped down their panties and sat briefly in front of the two boys: thighs widely parted, showing their cunts in blatant detail by peeling open the lips. Richard tensed himself, ready to get up and choose either Carol or Jean-certain that Spencer was more than eager to begin fucking the girls.

But his friend showed no sign of movement. He nodded his satisfaction, staring through the now well-lit clearing at the exposed pussies, continuing to rub his cock yet apparently content to remain a spectator!

Richard frowned uncertainly. He watched as Jean and Carol came together again, this time putting their faces intimately against one another's sexes in the “sixty-nine” position: hearing their irregular breathing as the girls began to suck at the moist, humid gashes-their up-thrust arses rendered white as freshly-laundered pillows by the strong beaming moon.

It was practically impossible to see any detail of their genital contact now, but Spencer seemed satisfied merely to listen to the wet, liquid sounds of cunt-licking and to look on as Carol and Jean wiggled their bottoms up and down. Well, Richard decided, he wasn't content to sit on the uncomfortable ground and watch this amateurish display by the young lesbians! He scrambled to his feet without looking at Spencer again, unfastening the belt of his trousers and letting them drop to his ankles as he approached the entwined girls. Spencer made no move to stop him, but he remained where he was: smiling a secret, ambiguous smile that hinted at a preordained plan…

Richard climbed out of his underpants but kept his shirt and vest on; it was still rather chilly, even in the middle of summer-out here in the countryside late at night. He also kicked off his sneakers and rolled his socks over his ankles before catching hold of Carol around her waist and plucking the girl up-tearing her away from Jean's body and pulling her surprised face next to his own. “Hey!”

Richard could smell the strong odour of cunt on Carol's lips as he pressed his mouth against them. The girl clutched at him for support, her body off-balance as Richard dragged her down beside him on the mossy, twig-strewn ground. But she returned his kisses avidly-her small, moist mouth working greedily as soon as Carol recovered her composure, the tongue which had been licking deeply into Jean's quim now darting wetly between Richard's teeth.

He could feel the goose-pimples disappearing as he pressed their bodies more and more tightly together. Carol stopped shivering with cold and began to shudder with pleasure; her arms and her legs enveloping him, winding about Richard's back and thighs-showing no inhibition whatsoever as he pushed his prick against her crotch and stabbed with it at the newly sucked slit.

Under their combined efforts, the long wedge of Richard's cock slid into Carol's vagina like a key fitting into a well-oiled lock. It eased its fleshy nose forward, penetrating the outer lips and driving them urgently apart, then burrowed deeper-fucking upwards in a quick, cramming motion that brought sobs of excitement from the girl. He gripped the underside of her thighs, delving his fingers into the fleshy curves and pulling the limbs more widely open. Soon, Carol was spread-eagled beneath him; her legs held as far open as they would stretch, her little pubic mound straining upwards to work against Richard's crotch as the boy fucked his cock savagely into her slimy slit.

He showed her no mercy, treating her like the whore she was: slamming his thick, quivering tool again and again into that wet hole-heedless whether he was giving Carol pleasure or pain. The moisture at the girl's sex increased, sending a hot, wet flow of treacle trickling down the inside of her thighs and onto Richard's fingers. He sucked ruthlessly at her mouth until the lips trembled and a warm, salty taste seeped between his teeth. Carol squirmed more urgently, bucking the lower half of her body up and down, gasping and raking her nails down his bare back. She was like an animal caught in a snare: fighting vainly to escape, her struggles only increasing her torment…

Richard wondered briefly about her background, whether she gave her body to Spencer (and other boys from the school) out of lust, boredom or because she received some form of payment for her services. But his momentary interest in Carol's motives quickly subsided; it was her body he wanted-her flesh, her tight, pulsing little slit! And when he caught a glimpse of Spencer-now preparing to mount the other girl, Jean, his long, upright cock brandished proudly in one hand while he fondled at the girl's breast with the other-Richard understood that his friend also required nothing more than gratification from these anonymous village tarts. They helped to ease the frustration and the humiliation of the school. On their willing, pliant bodies, Spencer could purge himself of countless tensions… ridding himself of the anger and the pent-up indignation at being confined by his parents to such a strict institution as Fernleigh School…

Richard's full attention returned to Carol. He felt suddenly that he wanted to heap indignities on the girl, vent his own fury on her hapless, complaisant flesh. His hands pushed roughly up her thighs until they felt the softer cushions of her arse-cheeks under them. Fiercely, Richard pulled the small but shapely spheres open: his fingers pinching into their white, sleek skin and stretching the tiny, red-rimmed hole of Carol's anus until it gaped open under his remorseless pressure.

He fucked deeply inwards and held his prick still, completely embedded in the girl's cunt. Before pulling out again, Richard worked his right forefinger up into Carol's arse-jamming the digit into her soft, meaty slot until it was buried to the second joint. He wiggled it gently about, smiling cruelly as she panted with sharp ecstasy and hammered her loins backwards and forwards: trying to make him fuck her and give her the release which her body demanded. But Richard moved his crotch with hers-keeping his dick stiffly in place, not allowing it to slip along her wet funnel at all!

Instead, he frigged her arse with a passionate, rapid stabbing of his finger; holding the digit as unbending as possible, relishing the urgent, circular screwing of Carol's loins as the girl grew more and more excited.

“How are you making out?”

Richard heard his own voice ring loudly across the clearing, full of authority and curiously devoid of feeling-as if he was engaged in a commonplace task instead of the supposedly intense joy of copulation.

“You picked the wrong girl!” Spencer answered, panting and grunting as Jean-her thighs straddling him, her body shuddering as she wriggled her impaled cunt on the boy's cock-rode faster and faster. “This one is the real bitch, aren't you, darling?” he grinned up at the girl, stroking her wobbling breasts and giving the nipples an affectionate tweaking. “She can screw all night when she's in the right mood! And, Jesus-she knows how to wiggle her pussy about!!”

“So do I!” Carol pouted. Richard's love-partner seemed to be fired by the taunt in Spencer's voice. She brought her legs up higher and crossed her ankles tightly around the small of Richard's back. This movement opened her cunt more widely, stretching the lips further apart and making the hole a more voluptuous channel for the boy to fuck his prick. He rammed in and out, jamming his finger in rhythm with his cock-penetrating the girl's two sex-slots at once: while his eyes remained fixed on Spencer and Jean!

Richard studied the stimulating spectacle in great detail, seeing the stiff upward lunges of his friend's penis as it scored into the girl's pussy, then remained in place for a moment or two-buried fatly to the hilt-his large scrotum dangling outside the slit, his heavy bullocks swinging slightly and rubbing against Jean's thighs. The quickening of his own prick took Richard by surprise-he hadn't expected the climax to erupt so soon! But he didn't try to hold the juice back… this was strictly an animal orgasm: a full-blooded explosion of spunk that shot searingly into. Carol's cunt, and although the girl was obviously writhing in genuine pleasure-her mouth sinking into his shoulder and her teeth biting in delicious agony-Richard didn't really care if she was satisfied or not! He made his finger twitch rapidly inside her hot, compressing little anus; but this was mostly in order to fondle his own sex through the filmy gauze-like skin-the tip of his forefinger rubbing against the crown of his knob, feeling the strong pulse working through it as the cream spewed forth…

When he had forced every precious drop out, Richard kept his hips tensed. He allowed Carol to enjoy the sensation of having a still-throbbing cock lying inside her quim, and he also retained his finger in her arse: idly moving it about and letting the warm, gluey flesh quiver around his digit while he watched Spencer and Jean.

The other girl was riding frenziedly on his friend's prick now, her torso shuddering backwards and forwards as Spencer thrust upwards and into her womb-his hands resting on her white hips, his forceful fucks lifting Jean again and again, until he suddenly held himself absolutely still: a moaning “ahhhh!” coming from his lips as the seed leapt out of his dick and drove through the hot furrow of the girl's cunt.

Richard closed his eyes and re-experienced his own orgasm, remembering how wasted and pale it seemed compared to the ecstatic moments of his Lisa/Miss Wynter climaxes. Somehow, he thought, somehow I've got to get away from here and find Lisa again. There isn't anyone else-not for me! I've got to get back to her!

They dawdled along the lane in the direction of the school, although Richard kept urging Spencer to hurry. The older boy brushed aside Richard's anxiety-strolling casually with his hands deep in his trouser pockets, kicking at the loose pebbles and apparently well-content with the evening's entertainment.

“There's an even hotter bitch I know in London,” he told Richard suddenly. “Maybe I'll take you to meet her one day-she likes quiet, arty types like you! Those cows-” he jerked his head back the way they had come. “They're all right for a one-night-stand-and out here you have to be thankful for whatever you can get! But Elizabeth is a really horny bird! Mind you, she's a bit kinky-she doesn't like just one cock up her, she takes all she can get…”

Spencer continued in this vein until they came in sight of the school gates. He had evidently formed a loose kind of association with the nymphomaniac-a wealthy, but apparently very attractive woman in her early 'forties-but hadn't seen her since he had been torn from his old Life more than a year ago. Richard paid scant attention to his stories of this legendary, boy-devouring libertine. His mind had been made up in the clearing, before they had left the girls: however difficult it might be, no matter what obstacles were put in his way, he intended to abscond from Fernleigh and join his step-sister in Beirut… He felt convinced that Elizabeth Hayes however experienced and eager she proved-couldn't compete with Lisa; or with Miss Wynter for that matter…

But icy fear clutched his heart as they jumped down from the six-foot wall, well to the side of the main gate. There, a grim expression on his face, stood Dr. Westerham and two of the senior prefects!

It was far too late to run. Even if Richard's feet hadn't been turned to stone, flight would have proved useless. They were trapped and escape or denial was equally impossible. As the stern countenance of the Headmaster came closer to him, Richard waited with a terrible hopelessness drilling through his mind. Uppermost in his thoughts was the fear that he would be returned to his father for punishment. Cunningham would certainly hear of his stupid adventure in any case-and would make sure that he never had even this slight opportunity to escape from the school…

Whatever happened, Richard could see the ruin of his newly-laid plan to join Lisa. The authorities would watch him day and night; and for the sake of a few mildly stimulating hours he had spoiled his chances of a more permanent-and an infinitely more thrilling-absconsion…

Tight-lipped, he prepared himself for the worst punishment of all-total confinement and no possibility of rejoining his step-sister.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“To entertain you beautiful girls is such a wonderful pleasure for me!” Louis Chabrol beamed. He raised his champagne glass in a toast. “Beirut, of course, is full of lovely women, but our city has never been graced by a more charming and adorable couple! To you, my darlings-and to our closer friendship!”

Lisa and Kathleen giggled and finished their fourth glass of bubbly, the pink lights of the night-club dancing before Lisa's eyes as she let the frothy, tickling champagne wash down her throat. Chabrol snapped his fingers and a waiter hurried to their secluded table. Quickly, a new bottle was place in the ice-bucket and the suave, polished and decadently-handsome owner of “Bacchus Cavern” (situated underground on the Avenue des Francois) refilled their glasses to the brim.

“I feel as if I know you intimately already,” Chabrol murmured, laying a soft, manicured hand on Lisa's knee. “Kathleen has been telling me so much about you…” The girl made no attempt to move her leg away, although the Frenchman's hand was straying gently under the hem of her dress-his fingers caressing lightly into her thigh. Instead, Lisa closed her eyes and let the pulsing of her blood merge with the subdued rhythms of the dance-band; feeling pleasantly tipsy and completely uninhibited.

Even with her eyes open, the club's decor and size was indistinct. The dim lighting, casting a rosy glow everywhere, made it impossible to judge exactly how large or small the room was: and after her generous helping of champagne Lisa felt too light-headed to care about her surroundings. She knew that the night-club was fantastically expensive and that Miss Wynter couldn't possibly have afforded to take her to it unless they had been guests of the owner. But it seemed right that she should be here; Lisa felt utterly, wonderfully at home in this indolent, de luxe atmosphere, sipping vintage champagne and listening to the steady stream of compliments paid her by the sophisticated Chabrol. She sighed, almost purring with pleasure, and eased her legs discreetly apart so that Louis could place his hand on her already moist and quivering sex-mound…

They were sitting side by side at the alcoved table, with Kathleen opposite-her breasts spilling ripely out of a low-cut evening gown as she leaned towards them. This was Lisa's fourth month in Beirut. She had settled in at the school, quickly overcoming a brief bout of homesickness, and her circle of friends had increased rapidly. During the hot summer months her body had developed a beautiful tan; bronzing deeply through the long hours she spent at the breaches, sunning herself and swimming in the beautifully clear blue sea. Lisa and Kathleen had succeeded in keeping their liaison a closely guarded secret, and even Candice Badel-Lisa's first love affair at the school-hadn't realised that the teacher and her pupil were very intimate friends.

Lisa had met Louis Chabrol on several occasions. With her quick mind and intuition, the schoolgirl understood only too well-although Miss Wynter didn't seem to appreciate it-that the Frenchman was primarily interested in her, and that he encouraged the woman to visit his night-club and joined their weekend beach-parties because he was planning the seduction of Lisa!

Not that Chabrol had made any open advances towards the girl. Oh, no! Not yet, Lisa told herself with a smile. He was clearly too experienced, too practised in the art of corrupting young girls to try to force his attention on her during the early stages of their friendship. No, Chabrol was biding his time, Lisa had decided. And tonight..

Well, either his patience was now exhausted-or he considered that the time was now ripe for her to be captured and added to his famous 'collection'! Rather like one of his notorious butterfly specimens, she thought wryly.

For the night-club owner had two, equally renowned, hobbies: he collected butterflies from all parts of the world, pinning the insects in giant glass display cases which lined the walls of his office; and he prized these above all his other possessions. It was also whispered that he took almost as great a pride in his other hobby: adding young (and preferably virginal!) girls to a long list of sexual conquests-which he kept methodically up-to-date in a locked and secret ledger…

Lisa didn't mind the thought of being one of Chabrol's playthings. She was eager, in fact, to widen her experience; realising that-with the exception of her stepbrother-her sexual partners had all been female so far. Not completely drunk yet, the girl opened her eyes and appraised the man, staring frankly at Chabrol, noting his attractive silver hair-parted in the middle and giving a distinguished yet somehow boyish appearance to his smooth, unlined features. She wondered what colour his eyes were. It was impossible to see them clearly through the smoked-lensed spectacles which he constantly wore; but she decided that they were probably blue, since-despite his indubitably French background-Chabrol certainly had more than a trace of Nordic blood in him. How old was he? Lisa remembered that Kathleen (she no longer thought of her late Governess as Miss Wynter) had known him several years ago, which placed him in his midthirties at least. And yet he seemed, to Lisa's eyes, of indeterminate age; certainly more handsome and debonair than any of her father's friends at any rate.

“I must invite you to one of my skiing parties,” Chabrol whispered to her. “Up on the mountains at this time of year the climate is simply perfect. And we could get to know each other… more intimately, perhaps?”

His hand was now pressing firmly into Lisa's sex, the smooth white fingers probing down the front of her pubic bulge and making a furrow in her panties. Lisa rubbed her thigh against Chabrol's leg. She felt an irresistible urge to rest her head on his shoulder, but instead contended herself with discreetly allowing her own hand to fall onto his lap; feeling with surprise the enormous length and stiffness of his cock. It had grown to a full erection already, the hard flesh twitching under her fingers as she closed them more tightly around the shaft. Chabrol was wearing a thin pair of white trousers, and Lisa was sure that these were the only obstacle between her hand and his prick: he couldn't be wearing underpants! The shape of his knob was too well-defined, its contours too exposed for there to be another garment stretched over it!

Yet the man's voice continued on a more or less even level as he chatted to her about the ski resort high above Beirut where he owned a villa, betraying no evidence of the excitement which Chabrol must surely be feeling at their mutual fondling…

Kathleen's eyes were glazed and she was finding it increasingly difficult to keep her head from dropping sleepily forward. She vaguely realised that Lisa and her ex-lover were engaged in rather more than casual social chitchat, but she couldn't focus her attention properly. However, when Chabrol stood up and eased Lisa's chair back-remarking that he was going to show the girl his famed butterfly collection-even the tipsy Miss Wynter became aware that Chabrol's sex was bulging obscenely against the fly of his trousers!

She forced herself to climb to her feet, clutching at the table for support, insisting in a slurred but raised voice that she couldn't, with propriety, leave Lisa on her own with him!

Chabrol seemed to realise that Kathleen was quite capable of creating a scene in his night-club if he didn't bow to her wishes. Smoothly controlling a flash of anger towards the woman, he gave her one of his most charming smiles and protested that-naturally! — he had no intention of excluding her from his invitation…

Gallantly taking her arm, with his other hand on Lisa's hip-the fingers moving lightly through the filmy silk of the evening gown, rubbing over the quite beautiful swell of the girl's curves as she walked close beside him-Chabrol led them to his private office. Lisa deliberately undulated her buttocks as they climbed a short flight of thickly-carpeted stairs at the rear of the club, and was gratified to feel the man's hand slide immediately downwards… resting for a few exciting moments on the flank of her arse and fondling the rounded flesh, leaving her in no doubt whatsoever about his intentions…

Leaving Kathleen to sink bleary-eyed into an easy chair, Chabrol paused only to lock the door and dim the lights before he swept Lisa into a tight embrace; holding her lithe, but well-proportioned young body against him until she panted for breath. Hard against her belly, Lisa could feel the virile throbbing of Chabrol's cock: its powerful surging making her giddy with desire, although she wondered with a twinge of alarm whether her very narrow pussy would be able to take such a monster-without suffering acute distress…

He was resting his cheek against hers, running his hands slowly up and down Lisa's back, his lips murmuring close to her ear. The words were French, but the girl understood only too well the kind of language Chabrol was using! His voice grew husky and confidential, speaking directly into her ear now, and Lisa shuddered involuntarily as his fingers stole through her long, brilliantly blonde hair, gently sweeping the soft tresses away from her neck so that his hand could caress at the nape and feel for the zipper which fastened her gown.

As he slid the dress with tantalising slowness over her shoulders, Lisa felt his lips burning suddenly on her exposed neck. The quivering wetness of his tongue licked against her skin, travelling gradually beneath her ear-lobe and then-before Lisa could twist her head away-lapped over the dry, fleshy pearl and darted quickly into the orifice itself!

An unbearable tickling sensation gripped her. She tried to dislodge the probing, seeking tongue, but Chabrol persisted-keeping his face pressed against her head and licking deeply into her ear, turning his tongue-tip around and around, crushing her body with his surprisingly strong arms until Lisa's moaning became a helpless, sobbing cry of erotic anguish…

Finally, he relented. Withdrawing his tongue, Chabrol framed her face with his hands and forced her to look him in the eyes.

“You're feeling very hot, mon petite cherie!” he whispered, his breath warm and sweet from the champagne. “I think you should slip off your lovely gown-ah, like so!”

And he dropped his hands onto Lisa's shoulders, shaking them gently until the girl's dress rustled away from her body and fell in loose folds around her ankles. Lisa stood very close to Chabrol, her tight, pale blue panties swathed to her hips and loins; her breasts heaving as she breathed in deep, tremulous spasms. The brassiere which she wore had been cleverly designed to thrust her breasts together and the close-fitting cups lifted the orbs, squashing them halfway out of the lace-trimmed semi-circles-with the rest of the bra-material so transparent that the dark red studs of her nipples showed enticingly through the flimsy silk.

Controlling himself for the moment, Chabrol stepped back slightly so that he could admire the girl's semi-naked charms. He kept both his hands on Lisa's shoulders, molding the well-fleshed bones under his fingers, and let his eyes travel slowly downwards…

Lisa swayed and her body no longer seemed to be under her authority; her legs were trembling so violently that she felt sure they would buckle beneath her if Chabrol's strong hands hadn't been clasping her shoulders so tightly. Gooseprickles of delight tickled her skin as the man's eyes moved appraisingly over her bosom, her belly-and finally remained fixed for several moments on the region of her crotch. She knew that he was carefully studying the outline of her sex-lips-and Lisa was fully aware that the two fleshy portals had grown extremely prominent in the past few years. They had become plumper, largely because of the constant fondling they had received; both from Kathleen and Candice, whose fingers had pinched and pulled at the juicy flaps until they responded to the frequent caresses by ripening into two large, sleekly fat lips that could be wiggled between a clever forefinger and thumb, then drawn outwards to an amazing degree.'

Chabrol gently persuaded her to turn around. His hot eyes gleamed behind the smoked glass of his spectacles, a sibilant whisper escaping his lips as he stooped a little in order to gaze at the girl's bottom from a more advantageous position. The cheeks pouted beautifully; swelling out beneath the tightness of the bikini briefs and quivering very slightly as Lisa subtlely contracted the muscles. A few inches of the white globes were actually nude: protruding from the panties in a sexy exposure, the snowy hue of the skin contrasting sharply with the deep tan of the girl's bare thighs.

“Exquisite!” Chabrol murmured. “Absolutely delightful!” He drew himself up to his full height again, kissing along Lisa's shoulder until his lips had worked one of her bra-straps loose. Expertly, he transferred his mouth to her other shoulder-licking and sucking at the skin, finally biting at the thin second strap and easing it over the girl's rounded shoulder-bone.

Chabrol now pressed himself tightly against Lisa, his hands caressing into her nude midriff. He kissed more fervently into the back of her neck and slowly brought his right hand up onto her breast. Through the loosened bra-cup he could feel the titty resting plumply under his palm. Its nipple strained against the silk, seeming to burst through the thin material in a rich, red ripeness-and when his finger roved across the bud, Lisa thrust her breasts forward, urging her teat more closely to the man's probing digit…

Gently but firmly, Chabrol eased first one and then the other breast free of its warm confinement. He eased the soft globes out of their brassiere, then swiftly unhooked the hasp which kept the halter tautly stretched across Lisa's back. The bra dropped soundlessly to the floor, and Lisa strained her bosom proudly upwards to make the curves lift as high as possible under Chabrol's fondling hand. He massaged her young breasts with a masterful, gloriously arousing motion of his fingers; shaping the titties as if he were examining them for the tiniest blemish…

Between her arse-cheeks, Lisa could feel the hard length of his prick. It was hotter now, thrusting with such a powerful vigour that she suddenly realised it must be free of Chabrol's trousers!

Yes! Surreptitiously, the Frenchman had slid his pants down and stepped out of them-and his naked shaft was now throbbing fiercely against her scantily-covered bottom! Lisa moaned with a deep, soulful sigh; the penis was far larger and thicker than she had supposed, its uncoiled length pulsing mightily as Chabrol pressed his loins forward and began to rub the cock up and down her warm, silkily-protected buttocks.

Meanwhile, his other hand had slipped over Lisa's belly and was stroking firmly into the bulge of her pubis: the fingers moving across the little mound and easing gradually down its centre-exaggerating the furrow between the girl's cunt-lips and making the cleft widen more prominently. Moisture, hot and glutinous, seeped through the silk and onto his questing fingers. A dark stain appeared at Lisa's crotch, spreading slowly and shamefully down the vee of her briefs, and her sex throbbed with pleasure as Chabrol stroked it to a steady, rhythmical climax.

Squirming around in his arms, Lisa offered her wet, open mouth to the man. She tilted her head, gasping with excitement as Chabrol's lips clamped suddenly on hers and his rapidly-quivering tongue slid between her teeth. Frantically, the girl rocked her crotch backwards and forwards, hammering it against the virile knob which reared so God-like from the man's loins. Her breasts flattened in a squashing, bulging warmth as Chabrol hugged her to his chest, and for several long minutes they stood with their arms around each other-kissing and embracing, their bodies clamped together as if joined by glue.

Kathleen Wynter, slumped deeply in her easy chair, her evening gown rucked up high over her thighs-exposing not only the whole length of her legs but also the enticing wedge where her cunt-lips kissed each other under the pressure of her panties-was only vaguely aware that Chabrol was seducing Lisa before her eyes. She had sat quite still for the past few minutes in a pleasant stupour, but she now realised that her right hand still held a champagne glass; carried in from the club half-unconsciously. Smiling tipsily, she raised the glass to her lips-and mistimed the gesture rather badly, pouring the bubbly in a cold trickling into the deep cleavage of her dress!

She squealed with shock and the ice-cold liquor brought her abruptly to her senses. Shuddering, Kathleen began to mop ineffectually at the spilt drink. In doing so, she considerably loosened the top of her gown; enabling one cheeky, thrustful breast to pop right out of its bra-cup!

When she saw Lisa and Chabrol-their bodies rubbing urgently together, the girl's briefs already being tugged slowly over her hips by Kathleen's ex-lover-the Governess decided that it hardly mattered if her bosom was exposed!

A little indignant that Chabrol should have used her merely to seduce the younger girl, Kathleen nevertheless shrugged off her resentment and decided not to interfere with their love-making. It might even prove instructive, she thought, to see how Louis performed with Lisa… And she freed her other breast, pulling the gown and its cunningly-devised, built-in brassiere right away from her chest, boldly revealing both of her buxom beauties and sticking them out proudly: though, unfortunately, neither Chabrol nor Lisa was paying her any attention! Kathleen decided that she might just as well dispense with her clothing altogether. After all, Louis-having slid Lisa's panties completely over the girl's legs-was now swiftly unbuttoning his shirt. She saw no reason why she shouldn't join them in their nudity-even if she wasn't permitted to play an active role in their coupling.

Even though she was drunk, Kathleen knew better than to interfere with Chabrol's pleasure. Perhaps on another occasion, when he had savoured Lisa's body and knew the girl more intimately, he would encourage her to participate. But for now… Kathleen wriggled completely out of her dress and slipped one hand firmly down the front of her panties, pushing two of her fingers into the slightly moist cleft of her sex and playing with the slit while she watched the couple. Yes, she giggled to herself. It would be nice to sit here quietly and fondle my quim while they do all the work of exciting me! Kathleen drew her legs up and settled herself into a comfortable position, pausing to drain off the rest of her champagne and then concentrating on her private, skilful wanking…

After she had experienced some five minutes of Chabrol's experienced fondling, Lisa's passion had been aroused to a crescendo. She clung to his neck, her naked body twisting and thrusting against him, the reddened lips of her cunt pressing and rubbing at Chabrol's prick: pressing the knob with a pleasing, sensuous massage as the girl moved up and down-stretching on the tips of her toes to make contact with his iron-timbered sex. Chabrol eventually decided that she was ripe for his particular brand of love-making. He eased the girl steadily towards an ottoman which lay at one side of his luxuriously-fitted office: a large, red-velvet covered antique which happened to face towards the easy chair where Kathleen was slowly masturbating. Lisa was putty in his arms. She would do anything for this wonderful man! He had given her more thrills in the first minutes of their meeting than either Richard or Kathleen! And when Chabrol gently insinuated her body across one plush arm of the ottoman; positioning her so that she was resting her breasts on the soft, spacious velvet arm-her head and her hair dangling over its side and her knees, nicely apart, pressing into the deep cushions-Lisa willingly adopted the pose. She knew that the attitude of her bottom gave him a revealing view of her sex-its upward-thrusting globes enabling the Frenchman to see every particular of her unavoidably opened cunt-but she assumed that Chabrol merely wanted to caress these private quarters…

Lisa was quite unprepared for the next stage of her seduction!

The astute and versatile Chabrol knelt behind her, crouching low so that he could pass one hand beneath the girl's crotch. He brought his fingers up, bending them at the second joint and pressing them tightly against Lisa's streamingly wet pussy, then coaxed the slit more widely open by applying the tips of his fingers to the sticky, swollen lips. It required every ounce of iron determination for Lisa to remain passive during this slow, tickling penetration. She could feel the furnace of her quim blazing up as Chabrol fondled with such infuriating care into the slot: his fingers peeling the treacly membranes apart and inching oh-so-gradually upwards…

But this was merely a preliminary! When he judged that the girl had been sufficiently provoked, Chabrol changed hands-bringing his right arm across the front of Lisa's belly and transferring his fingers so smoothly that the girl scarcely realised that her cunt was now being fondled by a new set of digits. The love-juice which was liberally smeared on his previously frigging fingers was wiped carefully on Chabrol's penis. He lubricated the shaft with Lisa's sex-cream, and was pleased to discover that several dewdrops of his own spunk had seeped out of his cock; enabling him to mix the two liquids together and thoroughly grease his knob from crown to hilt. When he had finished, the rod shone with a glistening, oily polish: its flesh was sticky to the touch, the plump arrow of the crest especially well-annointed.

This lubrication was vital-as Lisa was soon to appreciate!

Chabrol held his rigid penis around its base, bending the thick member until its pointed phallus was again nudging between the girl's arse-cheeks. He breathed harshly as he felt the meaty hole of the anus contract against his prick. The probing crown was now sticking upwards-at a perfect angle for penetration-and Chabrol frigged more violently into Lisa's cunt (wanting to stimulate her until she was willing to permit any cruelty-even the violent fucking of her arse!)

At first, through the red mists of her ecstasy, Lisa though that her lover had misjudged his aim. The enormous shaft couldn't possibly hope to cram into her rear passageway! Why… it would be difficult enough for it to fuck her tender little pussy, let alone-!!

“Ahhggg!” The choked, frantic scream rang from Lisa's mouth as if her body had suffered an extreme electric shock. She went white with pain, every nerve in her body flashing danger signals to her brain. A searing hotness flooded up into her bowels, the dry entrance suddenly ripped into a wider cavity than it had ever experienced as Chabrol ruthlessly fucked his prick into the tight, fragile little anus!

Lisa felt too weak to struggle. The agony of feeling her arsehole being impaled on such a terrifyingly large stick seemed to numb her; freezing all action and making the girl grow limp with nervous exhaustion. The pain reached a zenith as Chabrol's cock drove to its limit and remained in her anus, quite still and throbbing with a controlled, even rhythm. Soon, Lisa was able to catch her breath and stop the terrified whimpering which bubbled from her trembling lips. The fierce poker still agonised her, but she felt irrationally proud that she hadn't fainted-that she had borne its terrible first onslaught with relative composure.

And now that the worst was so obviously over, Lisa cautiously moved her buttocks; experimenting to find out if the hard engine which was lodged in her arse would give her a similar sensation to being fucked in the more usual orifice. It was a strange, disquieting feeling… She was aware of an emptiness in her cunt, a curiously hollow emotion along the passageway to her womb, while the rear entrance contained all the stiff flesh it was capable of holding…

Chabrol allowed her to recover from his unexpected attack. He waited, enjoying the extremely tight pressure which surrounded his knob, softly caressing the outer lips of Lisa's sex and crouching closely over the girl, his mouth kissing her quivering back as if she was a terrified doe caught in a trap. When he considered that she was now ready to receive a thorough arse-fucking, he began to ease his tightly-clamped cock slowly backwards… withdrawing the hot-blooded penis an inch at a time and savoring every moment of its passage through the humid, red-tinged meat of Lisa's anus. Before the spearhead could slip free of the small, bruised mouth, Chabrol checked the movement. He paused for a few seconds, then fucked forward again-driving his rod back into the puckered shit-place and leaning his weight on the girl until it slid beautifully to its hilt once more.

Lisa was prepared this time. She concentrated on keeping her sphincter as relaxed as possible, facilitating the thrust of Chabrol's dick by yielding passively to its thick progress along her rear tube.

At the third inward lunge, Lisa actually began to enjoy the sensation! She screwed her arse-cheeks around in a provocative, encouraging undulation; shamelessly flaunting her hind-quarters and pushing her buttocks strenuously against the incoming prick. The cheeks rubbed intimately into Chabrol's crotch each time he fucked forward, moving reluctantly but briefly away from the hairy loins as he withdrew.

Gradually, the momentum of his arse-fucking increased. Chabrol was now driving lustily in and out of the forbidden slot, working his cock furiously back and forth-reaming out the brown tunnel until Lisa's response was as violent as his hot lunges; her uptilted bottom waggling around, her breasts shimmying as they hung loosely over the arm of the ottoman. She went into rut-jerking her hips insanely and crying out in fevered, sobbing phrases that her cunt was filling with cream…

“Fuck me! Fuck me!!” Lisa urged shrilly. “Stick it into me-harder, harder, you bastard! Oh, I could shit all over your prick! It's so stiff! It's fucking right through my body! I'm going to come-I'm going to come out of my arse, you beautiful fucker!!”

Chabrol stabbed more and more violently into her anus, his strokes keener now-his hard-fucking weapon ploughing and slewing through the wet, shitty meat as Lisa spurred him on with her obscene, crazed ranting.

Facing them, now leaning forward and scrabbling wildly into her cunt, Kathleen watched the couple in profile: seeing her ex-lover's cock poking vigorously into the girl's arse-now disappearing between the raised, urgently working cheeks, now sliding free of them and pausing for a second or two, poised at the darling's white buttocks, its stalwart red length quivering with naked violence before it again sank out of view and fucked into its dark, wetly welcoming domain… Suddenly, after a frantic series of jerks that sent Chabrol's prick rapidly in and out of Lisa's anus, the pair locked together-their bodies shuddering with the joy of simultaneous orgasm. Kathleen's eyes lost their focus. She frigged her quim until the slit dripped with come, whipping the long forefinger of her right hand in a rapid motion that scratched at the red, juicy walls and made her thighs pump open-and-shut. And with the excitement of her own climax, the woman no longer cared that she was excluded from the far more ecstatic union which Lisa and Chabrol were sharing…

This was the pinnacle of Lisa's sexual experience so far. She had never, in her most erotic daydreams, imagined that an orgasm could be so violently thrilling-especially without being aided by the penetration of her cunt! But the gouts of spunk which Chabrol was shooting into her arse more than compensated for any lack in her sex-slit: as he fucked stream after stream of thick, curdling cream through her anus and skewered her much-stretched bum-hole on his massive shaft.

The girl collapsed into a mind-expanding, pyrotechnical world of flaming suns and multi-coloured star patterns; her senses reeling uncontrollably with each pulse of the man's knob. Comets flared before her closed eyelids, bursting into showers of lumpy, porridge-textured spunk that rained heavily over her body and filled her nostrils with the pungent smell of male sperm.

As Lisa tightened her sphincter, involuntarily contracting the deep muscles of her arse, Chabrol felt his sex being squeezed by a powerful, fleshy vice. He thrust the prick in and out-fucking twice more into the girl's sodden, rigidly-clamping tube of a shitter-and ejaculated another, final, flow of semen into her bowels before his orgasm was spent…

Lisa emerged from this shattering experience a fully-grown woman: not only in a physical sense, but also psychologically. She had been brought abruptly to maturity, her always-present sensuality ripened into full flower by Louis Chabrol's violent seduction. From him, and the other men who were to follow in swift succession, Lisa learnt that her body was a magical garden where thrilling and often strange seeds could grow; it was an oasis, a watering-place for quick or gradual desire, and she came-in the years of her late adolescence-to realise that her sex (that small, private and ever-moist cleft between her thighs) attracted worshippers both male and female… all of them anxious to sacrifice their lust at its deep, possessive fount.

Thus began Lisa's true separation from her step-brother. From this time on, she diverged in ways both spiritual and emotional from Richard: enveloping herself in a world of growing eroticism, sharing the delights of her body with any healthy man or woman who cared to seduce her. And the easy tempo of life in the Lebanon also inclined Lisa towards a more introspective nature, there being no necessity for the girl to concern herself with materialism or financial worries.

Kathleen Wynter remained as a constant companion, but Lisa was drawing further and further away from the ex-Governess as well. During the first few months in Beirut, the woman was useful to Lisa; but when she had exhausted Kathleen's few contacts in the city, the girl no longer bothered about her faithful teacher… making new friends without Kathleen's aid and gradually excluding her from the parties and the sexual orgies which Lisa attended every weekend.

Fortunately for her, Kathleen was too loyal to betray the girl to John Cunningham. She remembered the debt which she owed Lisa and Richard: and Kathleen now repaid their silence by writing encouraging letters to their father, telling him that Lisa was proving to be a model pupil-“a shining example to the other girls at Byblos,” she lied shamelessly…

There was only one vital link now existing between the step-brother and sister. Their deep-rooted and omnipresent obsession with each other made it impossible for either Lisa or Richard to sustain a relationship with a third person…

CHAPTER EIGHT

Richard knew now what it felt like to be a wanted man. Every stranger they passed seemed to stare suspiciously into his eyes, every police constable was regarding him with a quizzical expression-probably running through his mental file of dangerous criminals, about to stretch out a strong, uniformed arm and grab him by the shoulder!

But they strolled through the ticket barrier at Charing Cross railway station without incident; and although Richard caught a glimpse of his hunted, anxiety-ridden expression in the reflected glass of the public telephone kiosks, nobody was really paying him any attention. He shuffled nervously from one foot to the other, wishing Spencer would hurry up with the telephone call. Standing here by himself, jostled by the rush-hour crowds, Richard felt conspicuous and transparent: certain that at any moment he would be recognised and dragged back on the next train to Fernleigh and the dreaded school…

It had been Spencer's plan to abscond. Left to his own devices, Richard would have suffered whatever punishment was meted out to him and resigned himself hopelessly to his fate. But Spencer had decided that he, personally, had already taken all the discipline and petty restrictions he could stomach. It was time to leave, time to break forever the chains which still bound him to his unreasonable family.

And Richard-required to make up his mind in the space of a few brief minutes-had thrown caution to the wind, packed as many of his clothes and belongings as he could cram into a single suitcase and joined Spencer on an early morning train from Fernleigh to London. Surprise was the boys' greatest advantage. Apparently chastened and terrified at being caught out-of-bounds, nobody suspected that they would have the audacity to run away from the school that same night. With reasonable luck, Spencer told Richard as they pulled in to the London terminus, their absence hadn't even been noticed yet. And now that they had safely arrived in the metropolis, it would be easy for them to quietly disappear-swallowed up without trace among the millions of drifters, students, hippies and others who roamed the streets, coffee bars, clubs and parks of England's capital city…

But Spencer didn't intend that they should be homeless. He had frequently spoken to Richard about a woman named Elizabeth Hayes; and he was now telephoning her, making arrangements for them to stay at her “open house” until they settled independently in London and decided on the easiest means of earning a living.

“What did she say?” Richard pulled open the door of the kiosk immediately Spencer replaced the receiver.

“Don't worry!” Spencer laughed. “I told you everything would be all right, didn't I? She says that she can't wait to meet you! You're going to be another stray waif for Elizabeth's collection!” He grabbed Richard's arm and steered him through the thinning crowd towards the broad pavements of The Strand-glancing at the big clock above the station exit. It was now ten a.m.

“I've just got enough money on me for the 'bus fare,' Spencer told him, breaking into a run as a Number 74 double-decker started to move away from the stop. Richard jumped on the platform, following Spencer upstairs and feeling a knot of excitement pulsing just above his heart. If only half the stories he had heard about Elizabeth Hayes were true, then the wealthy nymphomaniac was going to be quite an interesting character! She might provide an amusing diversion for him while he made plans to gather sufficient funds to get to Beirut… and Lisa!

For this was still Richard's main objective. He wanted more than ever to continue his intimacy with the girl who had been both his childhood and his adolescent lover; and although his intellect warned him that such a liaison-locking them together in adult life, also-could destroy them so far as more normal relationships were concerned, he couldn't resist the urgent impulse to return to his stepsister…

Elizabeth Hayes opened the door to them and stood in the jamb, her watchful green eyes taking a methodical inventory of their appearance and their physique. A faint smile creased the corners of her rather full mouth, and then she stepped aside-sweeping them through into the hallway with an expansive, theatrical gesture that reminded Richard irresistibly of a prima donna.

Her apartment, located in one of the new blocks of flats overlooking the Kings Road in Chelsea, was lavish and cluttered with a weird assortment of pop- and op-art paintings, kinetic sculptures which revolved slowly and sparked with multicoloured lights, obscene but artistically designed figurines and a mountainous heap of ragged-looking manuscripts…

(Richard learned later that these were some of the works of art donated to Elizabeth by her numerous “kept boys”: small tokens of appreciation for services which she had rendered to them).

Elizabeth had a pot of percolated coffee bubbling on an electric ring, and after Richard had consumed three cups of the black, steaming stimulant, he felt more relaxed in her presence. He sat back, his body sinking luxuriously into the soft cushions of a settee, letting Spencer do all the talking; conscious that Elizabeth's eyes remained fixed on him, regarding him with a frankness that-a year or two ago-would have made Richard uncomfortable. She listened while Spencer explained the circumstances of their leaving Fernleigh, nodding her approval, but saying very little. Spencer seemed to feel very much at home. He stretched his legs out on the deep pile of the carpet, crossing his ankles and grinning confidently at Richard-winking at him as if to remind the boy that he could expect the seduction to begin at any moment…

Elizabeth either failed to notice Spencer's implied lewdness, or she had long ago ceased to care what her boy-friends thought of her. She was a tall, attractive woman; her body slender but well-curved, the movement of her breasts under the man's shirt which she wore betraying ample evidence that they were generously buxom-and unfettered by a brassiere. Her long, showgirl's legs were concealed by a tight-fitting pair of white slacks: their crotch so snug that Elizabeth's pubic mound could be seen bulging like a small child's penis, straining against the tautly-swathing material and clearly unrestrained by panties.

But Richard found himself more interested in the challenge of her clear green eyes. They held him, commanding his attention, a heady, hypnotic quality to them which made him feel as if he were staring into two dry pools of bright jade. She apparently misinterpreted his steady, inquiring gaze. Richard was curious about her, wondering about the kind of experiences she had suffered-wondering why Elizabeth chose to confine her lovers to youths rather than mature men. But she took his appraisal for sexual interest-probably because she was unable to believe that anyone was concerned with her other qualities-and Elizabeth rose from her chair, a faint and resigned smile on her lips. As she stood over him, Richard could smell the giddy jasmine scent of her perfume; and then she was reaching down for him-drawing him to his feet, her very long fingers crooked into his armpits.

“It's time to examine you, darling!”

Elizabeth's voice became husky as she let her fingers slide down his body and press searchingly into his hips. She was almost as tall as Richard, and wisps of her loose, auburn hair tickled his forehead as she leaned closer to him.

“Slip your clothes off, there's a good boy!” she urged in a whisper that was pregnant with erotic meaning. “I like to see if my guests are worthy of my hospitality before I let them stay with me! Come along, you mustn't be shy! See?” she coaxed him. “Spencer is already undressing… he knows what's required of him!”

Richard glanced at his friend. Nodding encouragement, Spencer was indeed disrobing; shucking off his shirt and trousers, kicking his feet out of his shoes and then lolling back in an armchair to peel off his socks. Nervously, Richard ran his tongue over his lips. He felt travel-stained and grimy, for one thing. And he would have preferred to be alone with Elizabeth-the idea of sharing her with Spencer suddenly filled him with distaste. But the woman again misunderstood his expression…

“Poor boy!” Elizabeth soothed. Her hands stole up to his jacket buttons and swiftly opened them. “You're bashful, aren't you? You think I might not be pleased with your body? Don't be silly-I'm sure you're very well-equipped, Richard! Here… let me help you… I really must see what you have to offer me…”

Her busy fingers soon removed his jacket and shirt, and they caressed arousingly through the string-vest-rubbing temptingly at Richard's nipples, the long nails scratching across the boy's tiny teats-before Elizabeth hauled the undergarment over his head. She worked his trousers down, helped him out of his shoes and socks with her eyes fastened on the bulge where Richard's prick rested beneath his Y-front briefs, but allowed him to keep the pants on while she turned to Spencer and beckoned him closer.

When both boys were standing on front of her, Elizabeth knelt between them. She put her hands on their thighs, caressing slowly up and down from their knees to their groins, watching intently to see the first sign of stirring at their pricks. Elizabeth leaned closer and Richard could feel her hot breath on his bare leg: this, combined with the incessant, arousing movement of her fingers as they stole along his thigh, brought his sex slowly to erection-and she exclaimed greedily as the flesh thickened before her eyes, ignoring Spencer now, concentrating all her attention on the younger boy… slipping her hand beneath the tight elastic of his underpants and pressing her fingers into the warm, hairy skin on either side of Richard's stiffening cock.

“My!” Elizabeth whispered. “You are a horny darling, so big and strong-and I haven't even touched it yet, have I?”

She swiftly repaired this omission, tugging his briefs urgently over his hips and dragging them with unseemly haste down Richard's legs. The penis quivered, moving strongly in its excitement as Elizabeth brought her palms together around the shaft and closed them tightly in a praying attitude. Its dark-red crown and the pinker meat of its upper length bulged thickly from between the woman's fingers: gathering a fresh surge of power as it felt the warm, massaging pressure against its middle. With deliberate slowness, Elizabeth began to rub the cock in her hands. She brought it away from Richard's belly, forcing the swollen dart to thrust at an acute angle from the boy's abdomen-sticking out almost horizontally, the hard flesh jerking in fierce protest but unable to escape from her firm, kneading clasp.

Elizabeth held his prick in this position for several moments, relishing the power she was exerting over his proud virility. Then, still keeping one hand wrapped securely around the shaft, she proceeded to tuck Richard's sex between her thighs! A flush of pain went through him as his penis was eased under the woman's legs and made to rear up thickly against her trouser-covered cunt. But Richard controlled himself, refusing to give voice to his discomfort, staring down as the swollen, erecting cock disappeared from view and Elizabeth moved her hand from it.

The crisp white linen of her trousers made the boy's prick throb violently: through the material he could feel her compressed slit-its fleshy lips writhing gently on top of his weapon-and Richard boldly put his hands on Elizabeth's bottom, fondling the cheeks immediately his fingers came to rest on her arse-globes; pulling the woman more tightly against him and returning the hot, taunting stare of her eyes.

Elizabeth smiled, already well satisfied with her new “discovery”. She unbuttoned her shirt but left the garment closed across her breasts, although the deep inner curve of the spheres swelled proudly into view-the pink rims of her nipples also poking nudely out-as Elizabeth raised both her arms and began to wiggle her hips, rocking her body backwards and forwards in a mocking “dry-fuck” that brought beads of perspiration to Richard's forehead.

Slowly, like a particularly sensuous stripteaser, the woman shrugged her shoulders until the shirt slipped reluctantly over them, then fell backwards to the floor behind her. She lifted her arms again: offering the smooth, hairless hollows to Richard's mouth-swaying the right side of her body towards him so that he couldn't mistake her invitation. Still caressing her buttocks, Richard buried his lips in Elizabeth's armpit. He kissed the warm, perfumed flesh, his nose nudging into the hollow and his tongue stealing out to lick around and around-tormenting the sensitive skin until the woman writhed and sobbed with pleasure. But she kept her arms high above her head, forcing herself to submit to the wet tickling, squeezing her thighs sharply together and compressing the boy's cock in her beautiful anguish.

Spencer evidently knew what was expected of him, for he came to Elizabeth's side and, stooping, pressed his mouth into her other armpit! Together, Richard and Spencer gave the nympho a resounding, prolonged kissing and licking; their tongues working into the now-salty-tasting flesh and making the woman moan in wild, gasping cries that raised their own lust to a tense urgency.

Richard moved his face first. He sucked down the soft skin until his lips were moving deeply into Elizabeth's right breast, and when they came to the stiff protuberance of her teat his mouth seized the nipple violently, gripping the red stalk and stretching it hungrily between his teeth. Spencer followed suit: and now they were both feasting on her titties-pulling at the globes and forcing them to swing away from each other, their firm flesh distended, their teats elongated in two inch-long crimson buds.

Elizabeth shuddered ecstatically. She continued to clench and unclench the muscles of her thighs-giving Richard's tightly-held knob a tremendously fervent wanking. When she finally released it, the penis was stained to an angry crimson; slapping back against the boy's belly and glowing with a fierce, mottled power.

Gasping and shivering with lust, the woman stood with her legs spaced widely apart, the limbs shuddering inside her skin-tight slacks, waiting while Richard and Spencer fumbled them down her thighs. As he tugged the waistband over her pubis, Richard saw that his assumption was correct: Elizabeth wore no panties, and her mons veneris was extremely well-pronounced. Protected by a triangular bush of ginger hair, the hard mound formed a thick, curving portico to the wet, fishy-smelling slit which gaped below it; a gash which was already bubbling with come-traces of the colourless, pungent fluid glistening down the flesh of her inner thighs. Directly the slacks were completely removed, Elizabeth sank on her knees in front of the boys. She brought her head urgently down on Richard's cock, slithering her lips along the fat shaft as it entered her mouth and then sucking wildly on the knob-grunting and hissing between her teeth as it twitched in a vigorous pulsing under her tongue…

When she had feasted long enough on this penis, another one was awaiting her pleasure!

Spencer quickly thrust his larger, thicker shaft into Elizabeth's face-and when she had gobbled it completely within her mouth, he grinned at Richard, nudging the boy over the woman's bobbing head and holding his thumb up in a victory sign!

Richard refused to acknowledge the smile or the gesture. He felt suddenly ashamed that he was a party to this scheme: taking advantage of Elizabeth's craving for young men in order to tide them over a difficult financial period. It was degrading, somehow… and the correct word for what they were doing flashed into his mind, turning his shame to anger. They weren't gigolos. That was too respectable a word for what he and Spencer had become. No, an apter phrase was “male prostitutes!”

His brow darkened and his disgust manifested itself in a sudden urge to spoil the plan which they had so carefully hatched. It was clear to Richard that Elizabeth wanted to dominate the love-play. She obviously derived a great deal of her pleasure from forcing her lovers to submit to her positions: metaphorically snapping her fingers as if they were hounds on a leash…

Very well! He would wreck their chances of an easy, self-indulgent life in London by refusing to cooperate!

While Elizabeth was still busy with Spencer-her lips smacking loudly as they slid lustily up and down the boy's throbbing, strongly erect cock-Richard moved stealthily behind the woman. He slid his arms around her waist, sinking his fingers into the softness of her belly, and heaved violently!

There was a gulping, slurping noise as Elisabeth's mouth came abruptly away from Spencer's prick, followed by a sharp, angry cry of protest.

“You little bastard! What the hell do you think-”

Richard twisted her over onto her back and the full weight of his body crushing down on top of Elizabeth smothered the rest of her outraged shout. Before she could resist him, he had forced open her legs-lunging his cock up between her thighs and pinning her to the carpet, his strong young hands grasping her wrists and holding the woman's arms flat above her head.

Richard was prepared for a desperate struggle, but Elizabeth suddenly went limp: her body relaxing under him and her flashing green eyes softening and becoming moist with a new kind of desire.

“Oh, you bad boy!” she breathed. “You couldn't wait, could you? You had to take me now-while your prick was burning so hotly! And I'm so helpless!” Elizabeth said faintly, her expression pleading and vulnerable. “You could do anything you wanted with my body, couldn't you? Please treat me gently, don't fuck me too roughly, my darling! I promise not to struggle…”

It was hopeless. Richard realised that with this kind of jaded, insatiable sophisticate, any form of kinky behaviour was acceptable: especially the pretence that she was a demure young innocent about to be raped!

But he couldn't stop now. His own lust was boiling through his loins, heating his cock and making it yearn to sink deeply into a wet, tightly-squeezing cunt. He jabbed the crown of his sex forward-ramming it past the invitingly parted lips of the woman's quim, crying savagely as it entered the slit and fucked higher and higher into the juicily-moist hole…

“Ahhh! Ahhh, darling! More gently… please, oh, don't treat my poor pussy so cruelly!”

Her voice told Richard that she meant exactly the opposite-and he made a piston of his cock; working it in and out of her dribbling cunt until Elizabeth slurred her enticing endearments, the words becoming a low, grateful moaning-punctuated with sharper cries as he fucked in a wide, sweeping arc, screwing the length of his sex so that it turned thickly around; stirring into the wet pudding of her quim and provoking the woman into a series of swift, violent climaxes…

But Elizabeth wasn't satisfied with this one-man fucking-however pleasurable and tinged with overtones of rape it might be. She summoned Spencer to her side with an imperious inclination of her forefinger, and turned her head to greet his prick as the boy crouched down and offered his well-sucked weapon to her mouth. It sank between Elizabeth's lips again-a grateful sigh escaping her as she felt the two most sensitive orifices of her body being filled with thick male meat!

Spencer's testicles were fondled until they ached by her inquisitive fingers, the nail of one digit scratching persistently at the thin fold of skin at the hilt of his cock; tormenting him ceaselessly until the boy suddenly jetted out a stream of spunk-straining urgently forward, the hairy base of his knob pressed to Elizabeth's mouth, while the sperm gushed down the woman's throat.

The taste of his ammonia-flavoured seed sent her into a near-hysterical frenzy: and as Elizabeth sucked Spencer's prick, swallowing mouthful after mouthful of the thick spunk it was ejaculating, she bounced madly up and down beneath Richard's fucking loins-her buttocks rising from the carpet and her crotch pulsating so rapidly that her young stud felt his juice rising in answer to the woman's crisis-

He rode with punishing, brutal strokes into her cunt, trying to fuck in and out as many times as possible before the orgasm erupted, finally shaking and sobbing as the mighty wave of climax took possession of his body and carried him into a white-hot haze of ecstasy.

Richard's spending was glorious and sustained. He hammered again and again at Elizabeth's slit, pouring his rich milk into the red hole, wanting to fill her with the cream until it ran out of her mouth and her ears…

But the victory belonged to Elizabeth. As he collapsed, drained of sperm and energy, across the woman's body, Richard knew that she was well-content with his performance. Instead of forcing her to reject him, he had won his spurs in her estimation: showing himself to be a worthy addition to her “stable” of well-paid lovers!

All right, he vowed angrily. If that's what she wants, then I'll be the best damned cowboy she's ever had! I'll fuck her day and night-until her cunt is so sore that she screams for me to stop! And I'll take her bloody money and her presents… I'll earn them, and I'll enjoy them! What does it really matter, anyway? Beirut was just a dream, a schoolboy's fantasy! I'd starve out there-or be shipped home by the fucking Consulate! Lisa can manage on her own. She's got Miss Wynter to take care of her… and now I've found someone to look after me!

A transformation was etched into Richard's features as he made this promise to himself. The eyes now lost their final trace of wistful innocence; the mouth set into what was to become a permanent, cynical hardness. He knew, for one brief, disappearing moment, that he was tasting the bitter fruit of corruption… but that insight quickly faded, leaving him determined to enjoy his new life to the full-no matter what price he had to pay for Elizabeth's patronage…

Sullen-faced, Richard forced his tired body into alertness and prepared to fuck his mistress again.

CHAPTER NINE

For the first two years of her stay in Beirut, Lisa had confined her company to the English and French community. She was naturally acquainted with several Arab-Lebanese servants and shopkeepers in the city, but it wasn't until her third summer at the school that Lisa formed a more personal relationship with the rightful inhabitants of the country.

By this time, in the early summer of 1967, the girl had lost every trace of the gauche mannerisms and the slight shyness which her cloistered early environment had given her. Lisa's personality was bright and self-assured. She attended all the social functions to which she was invited, making friends easily with the diplomats, smiling serenely at the bitchy remarks made in her earshot by their wives: knowing that her reputation was perfectly safe so long as the diplomats themselves were nicely under her thumb! Although Beirut could hardly be described as an outpost-a dull, end-of-the-world assignment for these Foreign Office officials (is was, of course, precisely the opposite)-they nevertheless found it intriguing that a girl as young as Lisa could behave with such total freedom! It was, after all, an Arab country; with all the necessary moral restrictions which that implied…

Yet Lisa Cunningham not only flaunted herself quite openly, sleeping with anyone who caught her eye-male or female-she also got away with it!

If she had reason to suppose that a particularly stuffy diplomat might be thinking of making a complaint (either to her Headmistress at the school or by letter to her father in England), Lisa had only to seek him out privately… often a mere fondling in the darkness would suffice…

She had never had her intimate advances rejected!

One of Lisa's favourite haunts was the Casino at Juni Bay. Unfortunately, even her powers of persuasion could not gain her entrance to the huge gambling palace-since the rules were unyielding; minors under 21 were not admitted, and in any case no one from the finishing school could take part in the games of chance. But she would spend long hours on the pleasantly pastoral hillside outside the Casino, enjoying the wonderful view down onto the white buildings of Beirut, wistfully looking forward to the day when she, too, would join the sophisticated millionaires and businessmen under the dazzling chandeliers…

Lisa preferred to be alone on these occasions, walking the few miles to Juni Bay with a packed lunch and strolling down to one of the deserted beaches towards late afternoon for a dip in the sea before she caught a taxi back to school. It wasn't really surprising that the beautiful English girl's solitary presence on the hill-every Saturday afternoon and not infrequently on Sundays as well-should eventually be noticed by the local Arabs.

Ahmed and Mustafa bin Mohammed were brothers who led a small but fanatical group of spiritual/political revolutionists, dedicated to overthrowing the present Lebanese regime. They were total pacifists, their strict adherence to the Moslem religion making it impossible for them to conceive of using violence in furthering their cause. Ahmed and Mustafa planned a peaceful but nonetheless triumphant rebellion: using the weapons of propaganda and preaching, attacking the Government from within by persuading its higher officials that their methods of ruling the country were more idealistic, more worthy and more practical than those currently in operation…

Needles to say, their pathetic and foredoomed programme was tolerated with great amusement by everyone who came into contact with the brothers. Only a tiny lunatic fringe believed that they had any chance of success; and the Government officials who listened to their soap-box orations or read their earnest (but fundamentally quite ridiculous) pamphlets gleefully shared the joke with their colleagues and superiors… until, before long, Ahmed and Mustafa had become the laughing-stock of middle- and upper-class Beirut. In certain quarters of the city one had only to mention their names to be confident of producing a knowing smile-or a burst of merriment.

Doggedly undeterred by this degrading reception, the brothers continued to press their case for revolution and reforms.

They were young, light-skinned Arabs; attractive to European tastes, and possessing those large, soulfully expressive brown eyes which are capable of charming the most prejudiced of English matrons. Despite their ill-starred and impractical dream, Ahmed and Mustafa had enough commonsense to realise that their physical appearance and their undoubted sexual prowess could be of assistance to them: namely, that they could use their charm and their handsome, well-built bodies to gain funds for their cause…

Neither of the brothers were above prostituting themselves for the sake of their beliefs. And they catered willingly to the many tourists who flocked to Beirut in the summer months, even providing female company for the men (and the lesbians!) who preferred the body of a ripe, athletic young girl. Her name was Darena. She was one of the few loyal friends the brothers had left, committed to their peaceful revolution, with as great a fervour as Ahmed and Mustafa…

When they first set eyes on Lisa, the trio hesitated. She was so young-surely she didn't have the means to make a contribution to their funds? But word reached their ears that the girl's father was a wealthy London businessman-and that Lisa herself was only too eager for new sexual experiences!

They waited no longer. One late afternoon, as the sun was beginning its slow descent, staining the horizon a bloody, glorious crimson, the trio converged on Lisa as she was making her way to a favourite, secluded little cove. The girl, picking her sandelled feet carefully among the sharp rocks on the final slope to the sandy beach, didn't notice them. She hummed softly under her breath, her hair flowing freely over her bare shoulders-long and bleached to a beautiful honey-blonde after her long sojourn in this sunny climate. The sand was still hot beneath her feet, though the dying rays of the sun were fast-fading. Lisa slipped out of her pink cotton dress and deftly unfastened her bra. She had a deep tan which covered every inch of her body: nude sun-bathing bronzing her breasts and buttocks so that there were no unsightly patches of white anywhere on her flesh.

Leaving her few clothes in a pile on the beach, Lisa skipped happily into the warm sea, splashing waist-deep through the gentle waves and then lying blissfully on her back-floating easily on the buoyant water, the tips of her breasts protruding above the clear surface and shimmering as they were lapped in a caressing motion by the sea.

The slow-setting sun was still providing a beautiful red glow over the beach when Lisa eventually emerged from the water. She shook her head quickly, spraying salt droplets from her hairs, and then flinging herself face-down onto the soft white sand. Only now, as their elongated shadows stretched out across her, did Lisa realise that she was no longer alone…

“Forgive us,” Ahmed smiled. The first thing Lisa noticed about him was the dazzling whiteness of his teeth. She was startled-but only for a moment. The strangers were obviously harmless; their voices cultivated, their European clothes and their gentle manner calming her initial anxiety, and she returned the young man's friendly salaam by raising her own arm in the ancient greeting gesture.

“You may possibly have heard about our little organisation", Ahmed said tentatively, offering Lisa a neatly printed card and a pamphlet printed in Arabic and English. “Please-could you be so kind as to glance at this humble booklet? It tells about our aims, our ambitions.. ”

Lisa took the pamphlet and opened it curiously. After scanning the wordy introduction, she immediately placed the 'organisation'-recalling several recent cocktail parties where the pathetic political movement had been subjected to cruel ridicule. Glancing up at the two young men-and at the lovely Arab girl who stood politely behind them-Lisa felt a sudden compassion for their futile but sincerely-held beliefs. She saw the burning religious intensity in their soft brown eyes, and was brought close to tears by her realisation that they, at least, had a purpose to their lives: however misguided it might be. Whereas Lisa herself…

She was overcome by a wave of self-pitying emotion. Ahmed and Mustafa were taking turns to explain why they had approached her, but Lisa caught only the gist of their hesitant, bashful appeal for a contribution to their cause. Abruptly, the pleasant, carefree afternoon had changed for her. She desperately wanted to become a part of some meaningful society, her whole being aching to belong-to believe in some kind of future.

Without any further prompting, Lisa volunteered to give them half of the allowance she received from her father each month: adding quickly that she would feel honoured to assist them in any other way possible!

Ahmed and Mustafa stared at each other with astonishment. Such generosity was staggering! The girl must surely be mad? But they couldn't afford to lose this amazing benefactress, and after exchanging a brief nod, the brothers prepared to show their gratitude in a tangible, perfectly natural manner…

Lisa had forgotten that she was lying naked in full view of the Arabs; although her lack of modesty in this respect was scarcely unusual. However, she was taken aback-in her present mood of quiet meditation-when Ahmed and Mustafa began to remove their clothes and then, settling themselves closely beside her, put their hands on her shoulders and started to stroke gently towards the warm flesh of her spine!

Lisa stiffened warily. But the movement of their fingers, gliding so carefully, so soothingly down her back was like the whisper of a dove's feathers across her skin. She allowed her body to relax, sensing the gratitude which the two young men felt and understanding that they wished to express it in this unusual but very pleasant fashion. Lisa closed her eyes and rested her cheek on the fine-grained sand. She sighed as their hands passed the sensitive small of her back, feeling the long, supple brown fingers petting sweetly across the dimpled cleavage of her bottom-and then quickly moving upwards again, as if they were ashamed of their own daring!

Lying full-length on either side of the girl's naked body, Ahmed and Mustafa admired her beautiful figure with their hands and their eyes; nodding appreciatively to one another as they silently remarked on the wonderful smoothness of the girl's flesh. Encouraged by her passivity, the brothers grew bolder. Their fingers now travelled over Lisa's buttocks, stroking the full, well-tanned cheeks and then sliding down to the backs of her thighs: fondling the lusciously curving muscles and gently easing the limbs apart.

Her skin was still moist and salty from the sea, and Lisa could feel the grains of sand clinging to the front of her body as she pressed herself voluptuously down; her breasts and belly coated with the sticky white particles. A few grains had also adhered to her buttocks, and Mustafa carefully brushed them away before he fondled the globes open and began to caress his fingers lightly into the hot, dark furrow of the girl's bum-crease.

She felt the Arab's hand resting firmly on her open arse now, wedging the cheeks with his palm so that they remained in a widely-spaced position. Lisa wriggled slightly, easing the pleasant tickling which prickled through her body. She moved her thighs until they were lasciviously well-parted: allowing Mustafa to slide his fingers over the pouting cleft of her cunt, the lips sagging opening in a sigh which released the warm breath of her love-juice.

Very slowly, Mustafa explored the outer flesh of the girl's sex. He rubbed both of Lisa's quim-flaps, massaging the puffy pink labia with a tenderness that made her writhe in quick passion-the spasmodic clenching of her buttocks holding Mustfa's hand firmly in place, the plump brown spheres closing tightly and straining to meet despite the firm obstacle which was in their path.

Ahmed, meanwhile, seeing that his brother had commandeered the most exciting region of the girl's body, had to be content with Lisa's breasts. He worked his nearest hand beneath her chest, burrowing into the sand and making a hollow so that his arm could stretch comfortably under her and his fingers could cup her sand-smothered titties with ease. Ahmed pressed one of the soft, fleshy orbs, tightening his hand until the globe assumed a delicious pear-shape. He fondled it lovingly, rubbing the hard little nipple up and down-pushing it against the sand until the rose bud was stimulated to a complete erection. With his free hand, the Arab stroked Lisa's neck; moving his fingers in a coaxing, skilful massage… behind her ears, along her nape, through the shining strands of her long hair-which were now caught by the dull-red glow of the dying sun, colouring the tresses to a golden hue…

Lisa's bottom was beginning to work up and down with excitement. She breathed rapidly, digging her toes into the sand and squirming her crotch in an endeavour to make Mustafa's fingers probe into the slit of her cunt. At last she felt them starting to penetrate her! The lips slid eagerly open, forced into a gaping oval shape by the forward thrust of the young man's digits: two of them entering the girl's pussy at the same time, frigging easily up into the rube and then wiggling sexily about.

When she had been pampered in this way for several minutes-Mustafa bringing sweet pleasure to her quim, Ahmed handling the bosomy spheres of her tits until they throbbed with an aching passion-Lisa felt a strong desire to see and examine their cocks. She remembered the exaggerated stories about Arab pricks, whispered amid excited giggling by the girls at the school, and she wondered if the rumours were true. Did they have bigger and fatter dicks than the European races? Were they so much better endowed than her previous lovers? Lisa couldn't wait to put this theory to the test-

Easing herself over onto her back, she relinquished the sensation of being fondled by the two men-dislodging their hands carefully so that they didn't misunderstand her action-and sat up. Ahmed and Mustafa understood immediately what the girl wanted. Proudly, they displayed their weapons: sitting with legs crossed and faces beaming, the brothers faced each other with Lisa between them, looking as anxious to please the girl as two young children!

She studied Ahmed's prick first. It was certainly formidable, a thick staff of rigid flesh that swelled up from his loins-uncircumcised and with a crown that glowed bright red, in contrast to the brown hue of his remaining inches. Lisa stretched out her left hand and stroked the rod tenderly. It twitched against her rubbing forefinger, springing of its own accord-without any assistance from Ahmed's hips-in a stiff to-and-fro motion that delighted the girl. She pressed her finger more strongly into the hard meat and the Arab's cock gave an even fiercer response to her probing: the hot poker jumping wildly and vigorously, until Lisa stopped its movement by clutching the midway point of the shaft tightly in her clenched fist.

Gripping it with a rapid spasm of her fingers so that the erect penis throbbed in a stiff, exciting rhythm, the girl turned to Mustafa. He was eagerly awaiting her attention, panting with lust as she teased him for a moment by describing a tantalising circle with her forefinger and thumb around the top of her sex: making the digits touch to form an “O", but not bringing them into contact with the pulsing crown!

Mustafa's face became animated with passion. He rolled his eyes, licking his pink tongue over his lips and shuddering as he pleaded with Lisa to touch his prick. Coolly, her other hand wanking strongly at Ahmed's cock, Lisa brought the circle of her thumb and forefinger downwards. She slid them slowly over the quivering arrow, regarding its agitated trembling with a pouting of her lips and a goading expression in her eyes that increased the man's ardour-fanning his lust until Mustafa was shivering from the intensity of his desire…

“Is this what you want?” Lisa demanded suddenly. She gradually closed the circle, tightening her digits around the fevered knob and working them steadily downwards until they came to the thicker section of his horn-which her fingers couldn't possibly encompass…

“This?” she urged him, squeezing more and more violently.

“And… this!!”

Her forefinger and thumb were now joined in their task by Lisa's remaining fingers. Her entire hand was now screwing into the throbbing flesh of his cock, making the veins stand out in thick brown ridges.

“Can you stand any more?” Lisa taunted the Arab. “Would you like me to hold your prick even more tightly?”

Bravely, Mustafa nodded. Tears of pain were filling his eyes, but his pride would not allow him to refuse the challenge which Lisa had flung at him.

The girl relentlessly applied as much pressure to his sex as possible; summoning every ounce of strength from her aching muscles. Harder and harder, tighter and tighter clenched her fist: but Mustfa's penis would not yield. Its stiff, unbending flesh remained proudly erect, and Lisa was finally forced to acknowledge defeat…

She eased the compression of her hand, and then generously rewarded him by taking the ripe crest into her mouth. Her warm lips sank down Mustfa's valian sex-shaft, her tongue licking at the swollen meat as it crammed steadily, deeper and deeper, into her mouth. Lisa continued to frig Ahmed's cock while she sucked at his brother's tool; and when she had enjoyed the ill-treated weapon for some minutes, the girl transferred her lips to the second prick-fondling with a gentle movement of her fingers at Mustafa's juicily-moistened helmet as her mouth slid slowly up and down the fresh (and equally virile) cock-shaft owned by the other Arab.

Lisa changed the object of her passionate mouth yet again before she sank back on the sand-her eyes misty with sexual hunger and her cunt itching to feel one of the pricks she had been sucking so avidly. Both of them had received two lengthy sessions with her lips, and their surface was coated with the girl's hot saliva, little dribbles of her spittle running slowly down Ahmed and Mustafa's rods and tickling into their pubic hair.

For a moment, it seemed as if the young men were to forget their pacifism and fight for the honour of fucking Lisa first! They rose to their knees, glowering at one another, then reached a typically Arab compromise: Ahmed lay beside the softly moaning English girl, rolling her over on top of him and adjusting their bodies so that his sex could aim potently between her open thighs. He caressed her bottom, then slid the fingers of both hands onto Lisa's unprotected crotch-stretching the lips of her quim fully open, pinching at the wet ridges of cunt-flesh until they were wide enough to permit the entrance of his throbbing prick. Lisa felt it sliding up through the vulnerable hole of her vagina in a steady, dominating thrust. She was gradually being lowered by Ahmed's cock, her loins bearing down on the Arab's, her pubis sinking slowly to meet his crotch. At last they were joined! Every inch of the big penis had fucked into her cunt-and Lisa pressed her bosom warmly into Ahmed's chest, straining down to make sure that her quim had taken his knob right to the hilt…

Mustafa gazed down at the splendid, beautifully symmetrical spheres of the girl's arse. He fingered his prick thoughtfully, wondering if it would hurt her too much when he probed into her tight little anus with the monster-unaware that Lisa had successfully passed through the ordeal of being arse-fucked several times! (It was, as a matter of fact, the only method which Louis Chabrol favoured; his perverse nature inclining him exclusively to the pleasure of sodomising his female lovers).

But Mustafa was too aroused to hesitate for long. He climbed carefully on top of the couple, making a pyramid of their naked bodies, knowing that his brother was strong enough to bear the weight of Lisa and himself, but nevertheless positioning his knees so that they rested on the sand while he commenced the task of introducing his cock to the girl's arsehole.

Mustafa's hands prised open the warm, fleshy bum. They held the cheeks apart while his penis roved slowly along the crease, searching for the forbidden slot. Ahh! He grunted with satisfaction, feeling the hot puckered mouth burning against his sex-crown. Now… gently and easily, Mustafa told himself. Don't ram too quickly! She mustn't be alarmed or hurt by your hard, fat snake!

He leaned down on her buttocks with a considerate pressure, drilling his cock as slowly as possible into Lisa's anus. But when it was only a quarter of the way inside her bottom-with the tighter section of the channel still to come-Ahmed started to fuck the girl: thrusting upwards with all his strength and driving his brother's prick suddenly and deeply to the heart of Lisa's shit-hole! The two shafts were now penetrating her: both of them lodged thickly in her front and her rear flesh-slots, impaling her like one of Chabrol's butterflies.

As the surging momentum of Ahmed's upward thrust forced Lisa's arse onto his penis, Mustfa's mind boggled with amazement. His tool had fucked so comfortably into the narrow cavern! It had slid all the way inside the girl's anus without any difficulty whatsoever-and yet she was merely crying out in a brief, gasping exclamation that was more excitement than pain!

Before Mustafa had time to recover his wits, Ahmed was beginning to screw Lisa more fervently. She was jolted up and down by the fierce strokes of his cock, and with each withdrawal of the prick from her cunt Lisa was compensated by the inward penetration of Mustafa's sex: its long, bulging shaft sticking thickly into her arse and sending violent tremors through the girl's rudely invaded bowels.

Sobbing ecstatically, Lisa ground her lips onto Ahmed's mouth. She drove her tongue in a frantic, wiggling licking between his teeth-not caring that the tender muscle scratched against the sharp eye-tooth in her haste to make their union as intimate as possible. The Arab's breath was sweet-flavoured with pleasant tasting spices-and Lisa worked her tongue against his, drinking down the saliva which trickled past her lips… goading her body into a maniacal, threshing passion.

She could feel the two enormous pricks fucking in unison now: ploughing backwards and forwards, sliding in and out of her cunt and arsehole, until, to the girl's fever-bathed mind, the twin slots seemed to split and become one large orifice-the thin layer of skin which separated them losing all sensation and ceasing to exist! It felt as if Ahmed and Mustafa's cocks were now a single, gigantic organ; welded together and fucking through the distended slit between her thighs with a pounding, sledgehammer beat…

They screwed on and on… Lisa trapped and sandwiched between the virile Arab boys, biting fiercely at Ahmed's lips while the sun sank below the horizon and the waves of the incoming tide began to lap around their ankles. The preoccupied trio didn't feel the cool washing of the sea. It gradually spread further up the beach, now trickling in a salty caress between their shuddering limbs; causing the wettened sand to shift beneath their bodies-but Ahmed and Mustafa fucked relentlessly on: the rhythm of their hard-working pricks growing faster and faster… until Lisa waited breathlessly for the inevitable discharge of their spunk.

However, each time the moment of climax arrived, both brothers paused; controlling the wild twitching in their cocks, waiting for the threatened spasm to pass before they started to build up their strokes again… repeating this pattern until Lisa was nearly exhausted by the many-orgasms which her less-restrainable sex had endured.

During one of these brief interludes, she realised that the pretty Arab girl was watching them enviously, her hand moving at her crotch as she stood a short distance away, staring down at the entwined trio. Feeling sorry for the girl, Lisa beckoned her closer-indicating that she should take off her clothes and join them in their exciting orgy.

Darena needed no further invitation! She came eagerly forward, and at Lisa's insistence-unwillingly at first, since he wanted to give the English girl all of his attention-Ahmed allowed her to squat over them: Darena's black-bushed cunt opening to Lisa's lips, while Ahmed himself was obliged to support the girl's buttocks with his hands and dart his tongue along her arse-crease…

And now the party was complete! Lisa rested her face on the Arab girl's smooth brown thigh, licking rapidly into the different-tasting slit of her sex: intrigued by the spicy odour of Darena's quim, digging her tongue deeply between the oily lips and bringing the over-excited girl to a rapid, drenching climax.

Sensing that their lovely patron had reached the final peaks of her pleasure, Ahmed and Mustafa no longer kept a tight rein on their lust. They spurred their pricks without any restraint now-fucking joyously into the wet, clinging targets, ramming into Lisa's cunt and anus until both of the quivering channels were mashing around their thick, almost-spunking weapons.

Caught up in this whirlwind of sexual delight, all of Lisa's previous adventures evaporated in her memory. She couldn't bear another instant of the ecstasy which was assailing her from both quarters of her private parts; and her teeth fastened savagely on Darena's hapless quim-folds-chewing deeply into the sticky flesh as Ahmed shot his sperm in an explosion of hot, spattering cream that poured high into her cunt. The rich, fast-spurting jets were no sooner washing around her womb than Lisa felt an even more abundant flow of semen shooting through her arsehole! Mustafa jerked his belly down on the girl's buttocks, grinding furiously, every last centimetre of his massive prick buried inside her anus. The rod surged and boiled over… filling Lisa's back-entrance with curdling milk, fucking at the compressed hole until its discharging spunk began to wash out of the girl's arse-cheeks… running in thickly spreading globules down Mustafa's twitching knob and becoming thoroughly mixed with the sperm which his brother had shot into her cunt.

The four young people remained locked together, their sexes pulsing in harmonious intimacy, while the white, frothy waves of the Mediterranean stole around their bodies; calming their lust and cleansing the powerful sex-juices which trickled from their sated genitals. It was growing dark now. Overhead, from a magnificently black heaven, the first stars began to shine down on their hot, satisfied flesh.

CHAPTER TEN

The seasons passed more and more quickly for Lisa and Richard. Now that they had both settled into a new way of life, the years seemed to gather momentum; sweeping the step-brother and sister through the final stages of their adolescence and bringing them abruptly to adulthood.

Richard continued his association with Elizabeth Hayes. He extended his circle of intimate friends, however, moving self-confidently among the jet set and the hippie world with the same assurance-throwing himself into a succession of increasingly bizarre experiences. Within a year of their arrival in London, he had left Spencer far behind; keeping the older boy as a crony, but venturing into the kind of perverse and dangerous situations which even Spencer-for all his bravado-recognised as being foolhardy…

But there was no longer any limit so far as Richard was concerned. He attended drug parties (using the hard narcotics such as heroin and cocaine) with a carelessness that shocked his erstwhile school friend; he engaged in sexual acts that were considered outrageous even by London's permissive standards; and he showed himself to be a totally ruthless young businessman in his dealings with the pathetic junkies who provided Richard with his chief source of income.

He was cautious enough not to allow his own mind and body to become addicted to these killer drugs. Richard used them in moderation, confident that he could control their effects providing he kept the doses to small quantities.

There had, of course, been a hue-and-cry over his absconsion from Fernleigh school. Richard's father instigated a country-wide hunt for him, enlisting the aid of Scotland Yard as well as private detectives in an effort to locate his prodigal son. But Richard remained on their 'missing persons' file. He couldn't be traced. And it was with a certain grim satisfaction that he sent his father a letter-mailed from New York by an obliging friend-telling the man exactly what he thought of him! The hunt was doubtless being pursued across America now… and Richard felt a bitter kind of triumph that his father was wasting hundreds of pounds on a useless attempt to catch up with him-simply in order to vent his wrath!

As for Lisa… She divided her time between Louis Chabrol, with his wealthy and extensive group of sensual French-Lebanese acquaintances, and the Arabs-Ahmed and Mustafa. There was a schism in Lisa's personality at this stage of her life. She felt herself drawn by the idealistic, yet Quixotic philosophy of her beach-fuckers, defending them to her more blase friends and keeping her promise by faithfully handling over half of her allowance to the would-be revolutionists each month. Yet Lisa couldn't embrace their cause wholeheartedly. The lure of materialism was still very attractive to the girl. She loved the rich life offered her by Chabrol and his ilk; and she drifted uneasily between the two widely disparate worlds… enjoying them both, but feeling guilty when she was in the company of the Casino set and suffering from occasional bouts of impatience that Ahmed and Mustafa were keeping her from a more exciting rendezvous!

From time to time, Lisa also longed to feel Richard's arms around her, pining for her step-brother with a sharp desire that was undiminished by their several years of separation. She frequently wondered what had become of her first lover, but Lisa's only clue to his whereabouts came from a letter which her father sent to Kathleen Wynter: informing the ex-Governess that Richard had disappeared from his school and asking her if, by any chance, he had turned up in Beirut-hoping to join his step-sister.

For a number of weeks, Lisa abandoned all her friends in her excitement at the possibility of seeing Richard again. She combed the streets at every available opportunity, checking hotels, bars and student hostels-only to meet with total disappointment.

Eventually, she returned to her established routine, realising that if Richard had succeeded in making his way to Beirut he would have contacted her within hours of his arrival. It was a false trail, a romantic finale to their forbidden love affair which didn't belong in the realms of reality. Lisa embarked on a round of all-night parties and orgies, exhausting her body in an attempt to free herself once and for all from the enervating obsession-her ever-present lust to be fondled and fucked by her stepbrother. But as always, the fever returned-stronger than ever… until the girl was forced to accept the fact that her physical love for Richard would never die…

The dramatic liberation from their father's domination came to Lisa and Richard in the autumn of 1970.

They were 22 years of age, and Lisa was due to return to England for the first time since John Cunningham had despatched her to Byblos finishing school: more than five years' previously. Although her departure date was still some weeks away, the girl had already begun to pack her winter clothes and make plans for the forthcoming vacation when Richard's telegram arrived.

“Father died of heart attack yesterday afternoon, (it read tersely). Solicitors say entire inheritance left to you. I'm disowned. Help! Deepest love, Richard.”

There was an address in the preamble to the telegram; a mews in South Kensington…

Lisa caught the evening jet to London. She carried no luggage. She even travelled in the clothes she had been wearing when the cable arrived!

CHAPTER ELEVEN

By any standards the party had been an outstanding success. Resplendent in dinner jacket and evening gown, Richard and Lisa stood by the open door of their lounge, bidding a polite farewell to the majority of their guests; accepting the accolades with graceful, well-mannered smiles-playing the perfect young host and hostess. The house in Surrey belonged to them now, since-although the property was in Lisa's name under the terms of their father's will-she had legally transferred half of her inheritance to her step-brother.

That dark depression, the black cloud which had been hanging over their heads since childhood-like a proverbial Sword of Damocles-was lifted with their father's death. Lisa and Richard were finally free. They could now live the lives which they desired, instead of the straight and narrow paths chosen for them by John Cunningham.

It had been a mere fortnight since their father's funeral, and they were still tasting the first reckless joys of liberty; gradually appreciating the fact that there was no longer a threat to their happiness, yet at times being unable to believe that they didn't have to conceal their physical passion for each other. Lisa had abandoned her Arab I friends-Ahmed, Mustafa, Darena and the others. Callously, she had decided that they were unsuitable for her new life; that their crazy philosophy and ludicrous schemes for a “peaceful revolution” didn't fit in at all with her future plans.

But Lisa had remained loyal to her more sophisticated Beirut lovers. Louis Chabrol, Candice Badel and Kathleen Wynter were brought over to England at her expense-merely to stay with them for a long weekend's “celebration”. And Richard's 'society' friends had also been invited to the party: Lisa refusing to entertain his hippie or drug-addicted acquaintances, chiefly because she was bored with the dreamy, passive nature of this group. She wanted to be surrounded by gay, extrovert lovers! The only members of her step-brother's clan who belonged to this category were Elizabeth Hayes, a girl named Gillian Sandell-who was supposedly related to one of England's leading pop stars and who had intrigued Lisa at their first brief meeting-and, by a slight margin of doubt: Spencer Prendergast!

These assorted and much-envied people formed the nucleus of the couple's private party. They were chatting together when Lisa and Richard re-entered the room, closing the door behind them and moving among their special guests; rather like prospective buyers at a cattle auction, selecting their favourites and running their eyes carefully over any new breed which they might have previously overlooked…

Lisa eventually settled herself beside Gillian, a rather plump, blue-eyed girl with fair hair that was cut too close for Lisa's tastes-though she responded warmly to the compliment which Gillian paid her: touching her own, almost waist-length tresses as the girl sighed that she would love to have such gorgeously long hair.

“I'm sure you make up for it in other ways,” Lisa reassured her. “For instance, your breasts are much fuller than mine! They stand out so firmly, don't they? Would you mind if I…?”

She put both hands on Gillian's bosom, pressing them into the ripe mounds and squeezing gently.

“I thought so!” Lisa exclaimed. “You don't even have to wear a bra! They're absolutely superb, Gillian!” The girl showed no embarrassment when Lisa kept her fingers on her titties, nor did she seem to resent this intimacy. Continuing to murmur flattering phrases, Lisa pursued her quarry. She slipped her fingers into the low hemline of Gillian's dress, delving them right over the fat flesh of the orbs and making the shoulder straps part with an ominous ripping sound.

“Oh, I'm terribly sorry!” Lisa apologized. But she made no attempt to remove her hands, instead lifting the girl's breasts and squeezing them softly. “Perhaps you'd better take it right off,” she suggested. “Naturally, I'll buy you a new gown…”

But there was a strange light in Gillian's eyes as Lisa pulled her forward-gripping her tits more tightly and using them to force the girl into a raised position so that she could slide out of her dress. She trembled as the gown fell to her waist, staring yearningly into Lisa's face while she wriggled her bottom and tugged the loosened material past her thighs and onto the floor at her feet.

“You-you won't make me do sexy things, will you?” Gillian whispered urgently. “I'll struggle if you try to seduce me! You'd have to tie me up before I submitted to your horrible caresses!”

She gasped out the last word as if it excited her merely to voice what was transparently her deep-felt desire. Lisa smiled, understanding perfectly well the kind of game Gillian wanted to play. Swiftly removing her own dress, she unhooked her brassiere and used the straps to tie the girl's wrists together: making an ineffective and purely symbolic bondage which Gillian could have easily broken had she so desired. But although the kinky young woman protested indignantly, she made no attempt to free herself; pretending to strain at the loosely-tied knots in the bra which kept her arms behind her back, yet clearly deriving a violent thrill from her mock-helplessness.

Lisa pushed her down on the settee and knelt menacingly across her scantily-clothed body. The two girls wore only panties now, their figures highlighted by a standard lamp which burned close to the settee; enabling Lisa to see that Gillian's black briefs were adorned by three pearl buttons-positioned sexily from the centre of the crotch, with the lowest button fastened across the girl's bulgy cunt-slit.

Slowly, Lisa rubbed her fingers up and down the unnecessary fastenings: pushing one of them gently into the space between the second and third button, feeling Gillian's wet quim trembling with liquid passion as she inserted her digit firmly into the hot, already spending vulva. The girl moaned and writhed, careful not to struggle too much in case she unwittingly freed her hands! And when Lisa stretched her other arm forward and started to tweak her nipples, a violent jerking took possession of Gillian's belly and loins. She thrust up and down with uncontained lust, driving her alleged tormentor's finger directly into the fleshiest part of her cunt-where Lisa tickled around and around… frigging the girl with the merciless passion which Gillian so obviously desired!

But the girls weren't left alone in their pleasure for more than a minute or two. Louis Chabrol had been watching them closely, and he appreciated the bondage fantasy which Gillian was enjoying. It appealed very-much to his own perverse nature, but a stimulating variation had occurred to him while he observed Lisa's fondling of the girl…

Unseen by Gillian, the Frenchman whispered his little plan into Lisa's ear; and when she smilingly assented, Chabrol stripped off his clothes, waited while his hostess swung herself off their intended victim's body-then deftly took Lisa's place on top of Gillian!

Before the girl could resist, Lisa had raised her shoulders up-sliding onto the settee at Gillian's side-and was cradling the plump blonde's head in her lap. The next moment, Gillian felt her arms being pinned in earnest: Lisa seizing her wrists and holding them in a half-nelson, rendering her truly helpless to Chabrol's advances! It was too late for Gillian to think of pressing her knees together. They were stretched widely apart by the man's thighs, and his hands-gripping like a vice into her fleshy calves-forced her legs to bend sharply; making a vulnerable target of her sex.

But although he could have penetrated the girl's cunt without difficulty (Gillian's panties were already sliding over her buttocks, and the moist, crimson slit peeped nakedly out from the disarrayed briefs), Chabrol had another orifice in view. He gazed down between her wide-open thighs and licked his lips at the sight of Gillian's partially exposed arse-cheeks-their chubby flesh curving in two ripe hemispheres which became more prominently visible as Chabrol urged the girl's legs into an even higher angle.

Her struggles were deadly serious now. Gillian fought urgently against the humiliation which lay ahead. It was all very well to be pinned and bound in fantasy-when you could easily escape if you wanted. But it was an entirely different matter to be forcibly raped…

Between them, however, Lisa and Chabrol easily restrained the girl. And to the accompaniment of a bloodcurdling scream from their hapless, betrayed young victim, Chabrol's arse-loving prick began to fuck stiffly and accurately into Gillian's anus!

While this drama was being enacted, Kathleen had shyly attempted to strike up a conversation with Spencer; introducing herself as Richard's private tutor and feeling suddenly conscious of her age as the boy had glanced casually up and down her body, nodding absently-his attention wandering back to the thrilling spectacle on the settee: where Gillian's anguished cries attracted amused stares, inspiring lust rather than pity for the painful arse-fucking which Louis Chabrol was giving to her.

Kathleen flushed with embarrassment at Spencer's rejection. It was true that nearly twenty years lay between their ages, but this discrepancy had never disturbed Richard or Lisa! She still took pride in her appearance, she was, perhaps, revealing a few signs of approaching middle-age-but, damn it! Anger made her determined to risk a more blatant and humiliating rebuff. Unzipping her dress, she proudly forced Spencer to look at her: baring her breasts and, quickly stepping out of her panties, rubbing the silky material enticingly across them-the friction making Kathleen's nipples perk thickly, her teats swiftly ripening and jutting in two stiff stalks against the near-transparent white of her briefs.

He stared at her, his interest quickening as he realised to what lengths the woman was prepared to go in order to capture his attention. Out of the corner of his eyes, Spencer noted that Richard was beginning to make love with Elizabeth Hayes and Candice-the girl from his step-sister's school. He shrugged. Maybe the old bitch wasn't such a bad bargain after all! She certainly had a decent pair of tits, and her mouth looked as if it had been designed to suck at a cock: the lips full and moist, with the tip of her tongue quivering between her teeth as if it itched to play up and down his sex…

Spencer reached out and took the panties from Kathleen's hand, uncovering her white, ample bosom. He wadded the briefs into a tight, silken ball, then pressed the warm panties to his nose and mouth, sniffing deliberately at the moist crotch-until Kathleen could no longer meet his eyes. She went down on her knees, half in shame, half in excitement; clasping her hands around Spencer's thighs and burying her face against his crotch.

Relenting, Spencer unbuckled his belt for her and guided the woman's fingers to his fly. Eagerly, her hands trembling with anticipation, Kathleen drew the steel zipper down and tugged the boy's trousers rapidly down his legs. She didn't wait for him to step out of them. Her lips were already moving onto his prick, kissing the slack penis through Spencer's underpants and urging it to come to an erection by giving the limp phallus an urgent fondling with her mouth.

Very slowly, like a lazy snake emerging from hibernation, the length uncoiled. It stiffened in a series of spasmodic jerks against Kathleen's lips-growing thicker as she fumbled the briefs past the swelling knob, finally bursting up in full flower and bobbing with miraculous power in front of the woman's face.

Kathleen slid her lips hungrily along the underside of its now-virile shaft. She sucked at the foreskin, managing to draw it a fraction of an inch away from Spencer's penis-holding the supple red skin tightly and worrying it until the fold of thin flesh had pulled down to the middle of his penis. The small gash where Spencer pissed-set in the exact centre of his rosy helmet-crest-was in a direct line with Kathleen's eyes, and she stared at it until the tiny slit seemed to grow larger and larger… her hazy vision blurring completely at the hot, arousing fantasy, making her gasp with pent-up excitement.

Stretching her body, she shrouded the juicy red cock with her hair; obscuring the obscene slavering which her lips made as they pursed wetly just above Spencer's knob and then descended in a wide, voracious gobbling over the crown.

He felt the stiff contractions beating through his prick, making it throb against the roof of Kathleen's mouth. He took a deep breath, steadying his body by leaning forward and resting his hands on the woman's bare shoulders. Spencer could just see her breasts through the wildly swirling movement of her hair; they were shaking like mounds of white blancmange, topped with thick ripe cherries-and he fucked his cock more urgently between his sucker's lips at the sight: his eyes filling with fierce lust, the pupils dilating and returning to black pinpoints under the emotion which was now racking his sex…

Elizabeth and Candice had both been ogling Richard during the earlier part of the evening; the older woman and Lisa's lesbian schoolfriend finding themselves mutually attracted to the handsome but dissolute young man. Although Richard still called on her at reasonably frequent intervals, it had been several weeks since Elizabeth had last enjoyed his sexual favours. She was determined not to be disappointed this evening-even if she was forced to share her lusty lover with another greedy little cunt!

Richard took them to a beautifully thick white rug which lay conveniently close to the settee where his stepsister was still holding Gillian's wrists; watching the regular fucking of Louis Chabrol's cock into the girl's arsehole and pressing Gillian's face sideways so that the sore-assed blonde could sob piteously against the bulge of Lisa's pubis… her mouth working in a semi-conscious sucking at her captor's tensely thrusting loins.

While Elizabeth attending to the removal of his clothes, Candice snuggled into Richard's arms. The girl kissed him at the corners of his lips, then moved her mouth firmly against his. She experienced an especially voluptuous pleasure at tasting the tongue of Lisa's step-brother-feeling close to her one-time lover at the school by sucking on lips that had been fashioned from the same flesh. And when Elizabeth had stripped the boy completely, Candice thought that it was her right to enjoy his prick first…

“Oh, no you don't!” Elizabeth told her sharply. He's mine! I undressed him, and I'm going to be fucked before you are!”

She thrust Candice aside, straddling Richard without waiting to take off her dress or her panties! Diving one hand beneath her gown, Elizabeth hooked a finger into the crotch of her briefs and tucked the tight-fitting, sheer nylon to one side of her cunt-lips. The moist red furrow searched for the boy's prick, its slit kept open by the woman's forefinger which was wedged just inside the hot, spacious cleft. She wormed about until the stiff, fleshy brute of Richard's cock rubbed against her sex, then-with a triumphant cry-Elizabeth wiggled her loins down on the rod, uttering a low, satisfied moan as it slid easily upwards and connected their bodies like a thick umbilical cord.

Candice, sulky and frustrated, hiked her own dress up to her waist. Her legs were encased in a pair of thin mesh tights, and these also served as panties since she wore nothing else around her hips and crotch but the slightly reinforced upper section of the hose. Hoping to stimulate Richard and encourage him to change sex-partners, the girl knelt very close to his face-opening her thighs as widely as possible-and, when she was absolutely sure that his eyes were fixed upon the lower half of her body, Candice deliberately started to rake her fingernails into the tautly-stretched seam of her tights… at the exact place where it covered her sex!

The material began to yield. A long, revealing vent appeared beneath the girl's fingers and she scratched steadily at the split-worming her digits into the hole which she had already made and creating a space that was large enough for her swollen quim-ridges to be completely exposed.

As Candice had planned, Richard became so intrigued by the very sexy state of her underwear that he thrust his hands under Elizabeth's armpits and lifted her impatiently away from his prick, lowering the startled woman unceremoniously to the floor! Glowing with excitement, Candice mounted the now-riderless stallion. She urged his cock into her cunt with both hands, cramming the stiff shaft between her sex-lips and panting with relish as the knob-made wet and sticky by its thorough immersion in Elizabeth's cunt-ploughed swiftly home.

Richard ran his hands roughly up and down the exciting black mesh of Candice's tights while his gleaming dick lunged to the first stroke of its penetration. He ripped the flimsy leggings in several places, rubbing and pinching at the girl's beautifully shaped thighs. And now that his prick was fucking more deeply into her cunt, the boy received an extra thrill from the disarrangement of her tights: his sex scored against the rough, frayed edges where Candice's hose still clung to her loins, creating a warm, tickling friction around the shaft.

Sitting proudly upright, her body rocking to and fro as if she was perched on a fairground carousel, Candice began to remove her dress and brassiere. The cups swung open, revealing a pair of breasts which were as deeply tanned as Lisa's-their golden flesh tapering into two blood-red nipples that jolted hypnotically up and down before Richard's eyes…

And when she was naked (apart from those tantalising, rudely-ripped tights) the girl leaned forward, making her titties loll seductively, swinging the heavy-fleshed spheres until Richard caught them in his hands; steadying their motion and twisting the teats sharply around between his fingers and thumbs.

Elizabeth was forgotten. She stared with icy eyes at Candice, only the fear of losing dignity preventing her from attacking the girl-clawing and spitting like an alley cat!

Her other protege, Spencer, was also too preoccupied to be of service to her; his lips vibrating rapidly as he slammed his prick in and out of Kathleen's chewing, wetly slobbering lips. Even as Elizabeth watched, the boy cried out in a passionate voice that rang through the room-clutching the back of Kathleen's head and pumping his sperm down her throat. The woman sucked with all her might on the discharging penis, holding every inch of its long, thick shaft in her mouth until the gusher subsided..

Closer at hand, the trio who were making the settee cushions bounce rhythmically up and down also offered no solace to the frustrated Elizabeth. Chabrol's cock was giving one last reaming to Gillian's anus; driving in and out of the much-stretched, rubbery little hole with a speed that made his dark-red weapon blur. The girl was no longer in pain and was giving Lisa abundant proof that she bore no grudge for her ill-treatment. Twisting her face down between Lisa's juice-stained thighs, her lovely mouth contorted with passion, Gillian sucked through the girl's panties and swallowed the sticky love-cream which filtered past the soaking briefs.

Suddenly, as a fearful enema of spunk poured into her arsehole, Gillian tore her lips from their lesbian resting-place. She screamed more violently than at any previous stage in her buggering-struggling so fiercely that her arms tore free of the brassiere straps which bound them!

Chabrol jetted his unstoppable climax in a selfish, remorseless fury: fucking the thick cream directly into Gillian's hot, shitty bowels, his hands working her legs like windmills-jerking her beautiful, naked limbs open and shut, up and down, — while he hammered the final spurts of semen to the very limits of her anus…

Lisa was too aroused (nor did she have the inclination) to comfort poor Gillian after her ordeal. She supposed that she would have to settle for a lesbian's petting, since Spencer and Chabrol would certainly require a lengthy rest period before they could be of use to her; and Richard… Richard was enjoying his vigorous intercourse with her friend, Candice-wasn't he? The girl met her step-brother's eyes as if a telepathic desire had flashed simultaneously from their minds.

And Lisa wriggled out from beneath Gillian's head and shoulders, rolling down her cunt-stained panties as she eased herself onto the rug beside Richard and Candice. Exactly as before, Richard abandoned the girl he was fucking for a new and more exciting partner! Candice was left to throw herself into Elizabeth's arms-sobbing tearfully, her quim on the brink of reaching a climax when it had been so cruelly torn from its wonderfully stabbing dominator. The two deprived females turned to each other for solace: Elizabeth's tongue taking the place of Richard's prick, while Candice temporarily buried her humiliation by sucking desperately at Elizabeth's cunt; surprised to find that the older woman's sex was so stimulating, it made her quickly forget the painful loss of Richard's more potent genitals. Fastening their lips to each other's pussies in this way, the girl and woman jerked to a satisfactory orgasm… spending lavishly into one another's mouths, faces locked tightly between their partner's thighs.

Lisa and Richard came together as if the long years of parting had never existed. She opened her legs to her stepbrother, lying on her back with a blissful smile on her lips; and Richard's features also regained some of their lost innocence as he gently steered his cock into Lisa's quim.

They kissed with the intimate tenderness they had shown to each other as children: merging their tongues and taking it in turn to dip them into their lover's mouth. Fucking slowly at first, they increased their tempo by gradual degrees-French-kissing without pause, fondling everywhere their hands and fingers could reach, extending their lovemaking to an incredible length of time. Belly against belly, thigh on thigh, Lisa's breasts acting as two superb cushions for Richard's chest, the couple played out their forbidden sex-games.

The interlude between their intimacy faded like an unpleasant dream. Fernleigh, Beirut, London… The events which had taken place in these cities held no reality for Lisa and Richard. This was the only reality! This melting of their bodies into one another until they became one flesh…

When at last their orgasms erupted, the step-brother and sister were no longer aware that other people surrounded them. As Richard fucked with all his virility and filled Lisa's cunt brimful with white, spunking spunk, they understood beyond any possibility of doubt that they were alone. Alone in the room, alone in the city, alone in the Universe…

But their loneliness had a special, saving significance: Lisa and Richard were indeed isolated from every living thing-with the sole exception of each other's company.

And this was to prove their tragedy and their salvation…

Content

Maureen Quincy
Forbidden Sex Games

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN