"Molly Carpenter! Where have you been, and what were you doing?" Mrs. Carpenter exclaimed, coming down the long, graceful staircase of their home.
A deep laugh sounded from the family parlor, off the hallway. Mr. Carpenter, looking up from a heavy volume of Toynbee, saw his daughter, mud-spattered, her lovely little costume slight awry, her hair in a tangled blonde mess around her shoulders.
"You've been down by the lake again," he said, without any recrimination evident in his voice.
"Yes, Daddy," she said.
"Miss Carpenter, are we ever going to make a lady out of you?" the tall handsome man said, grinning at his adored only child.
"No, Daddy," she said, her own grin slightly lop-sided. A dimple flashed on her flushed cheek.
"Oh, well, dear, when you become a famous femme fatale, you will say in your memoirs that your parents tried, won't you?" her mother said, cupping her lovely daughter's chin and kissing her lightly on her dewy lips.
"Yes, Mom."
"Good. Now go up and take a bath. Dear God! How you do attract the dirt!"
It had not occurred to the Carpenters to worry that their daughter had run into trouble. She was a cut-up constantly, and nothing much ever happened in Sylvan Hills worth talking about in tones of horror. The most the gossip of Sylvan Hills ever elicited was a slightly raised eyebrow and perhaps a slight laugh of titillation, since people will be people, wherever they are.
Molly started up the stairs, and turned, one swan-like arm hanging languidly over the mahogany banister.
"Could I be another Lola Montez?" she asked her lovely blonde mother.
"Molly, where did you hear about her?"
"In one of the history books I snitched from Daddy's library."
"Harold, you have to lock up some of your books!" Mrs. Carpenter said.
"Nonsense, Mary! I can't think of a better way for Molly to learn."
"I can," Mary said, coming into the room and sitting in her favorite chair, opposite to her husband's.
"Mary," Harold exclaimed with a slightly lewd grin on his face, "she's too young."
Mary grinned and picked up her book, which was by Carlyle, and settled down for a quiet evening.
Molly walked up to her room, grinning. She stripped off the stained dress. There was some slight bloodstains on the back of it. She bundled it up, and hid it in her special hiding place, which was a box in her closet, and then threw on a robe to go to the bathroom.
Once in the tub, she was at leisure to savor the new feelings that had remained with her, and to think of the sexy, masked bandit who had wrenched her virginity for him.
She had been an ideal subject!
She washed herself carefully, examining her pussy. It didn't look any different, slightly redder than usual from where his hairy groin had slammed into her and inflamed it.
The very thought of that enormous cock slamming in and out of her drove her to a frenzy.
She stuck her finger into her pussy, as she relaxed in the warm water of the tub. She had filled the bath water liberally with her mother's favorite bath oil.
Her pussy was slightly sore, but the feelings which coursed through her, as she rubbed her finger in and out of her recently opened womanhood, were glorious.
She felt as if she had begun a whole new life, thanks to that strange man. She had been so enthralled by what happened to her that it did not occur to her that the man had committed a great crime, that he had raped her.
She had wanted to be fucked, and he had fucked her to a fabulous orgasm. Molly leaned back in the tub, and made love to her own cunt. She ran her fingers, stick with the perfumed bath oil over the swollen folds of her pussy meat.
She grunted, and the water lapped about her warmly, like a wet soft hand, swirling up around her tiny but well-shaped titties.
She looked down at her long, slender white body.
She was beautiful, and she knew it. She would be built like her mother, her breasts rich and full, and high on her chest, her waist long and narrow, her hips full and lush.
Already the promise was there in her long, slender body with the subtle curves.
Distracted by her loveliness, she abandoned her cunt for awhile, and began to run her hands over her flat belly, with the slight rise in her abdomen.
She fingered her belly button, and felt a delicious shiver run through her. Her flesh jumped under her hands as she ran her palms lovingly over her soft skin.
She cupped both her tits. She felt them swell with the passion she elicited from herself. She tweaked the nipples. They puckered deliciously between the thumb and forefinger of each hand.
What a difference it was to her to frig herself, now that she was no longer a virgin. She couldn't wait to get to school, and tell all her friends. They would be jealous.
All the girls in her class had been dying to have their cherries popped for almost as long as Molly, but she was probably the first one. At least she hoped she was.
A new thought hit her, and her hand paused on her small budding boobs. What if the man decided to deflower all the little girls in town tonight? She hoped not.
She wanted the distinction of being the first. Molly was first in a lot of things. She was first in the girls' soccer team, first in basketball, first in swimming, and ironically enough, given her predilection for roaming around, the mercurial behavior of her powers of concentration, she was also first in all her scholastic subjects except one: she was terrible in home economics!
That, for a girl whose mother had taught her how to make quiche Lorraine when she was six years old was rather extraordinary. Her father once asked her how she did it.
"It's easy, Dad. I already know everything they're teaching, so I cut the class."
When she was supposed to be mixing the staid ingredients for a tomato aspic, she was "experimenting".
She once blew up two dishes by adding ingredients which she had copped from the chemistry lab, just to see what would happen.
She relaxed again, and turned her attention back to what she was doing: the man's fucking had greased her for more action. She felt hotter than she had ever felt in her life.
As she stimulated her lovely little nipples, which stood out, puckered and prominent on her budding breasts, she felt her pussy starting to cream. The sensation was totally different, now that she wasn't a virgin any more, and she dwelt lovingly on that fact.
Her pussy still tingled. The slight soreness had an edge of pleasure to it. As she concentrated on the slight stinging in her pussy, it almost felt in its throbbing, as if the man were thrusting his cock in and out of her again.
Her face began to flush as the fever of her desire mounted. She pulled at her nipples, watching them elongate. She pulled harder, wanting more sensation.
Her breasts also elongated slightly, and a shiver of intense pleasure coursed through her.
She brought her hands downward, wanting to feel her cunt, which was almost vibrating with her sexual hunger. Her breathing became shallow as her excitement built in her young body.
She pressed her hand into her pussy meat, feeling the soft, wet meat spread beneath her questing fingers. She pried into the swollen, hot folds, and her body jumped with the sharp hot ripples of pleasure.
"Uhh!" she moaned. She tried to concentrate on what it felt like to have the man's weight on top of her. Just the feeling of his body pressing her into the moist cool grass caused a shudder of hot passion to well up in her. Her excitement trickled down her overheated twat, in turgid streams, and poured out of her cunt into the water.
Again she pried a hot little finger into her drooling hole, and wiggled it around against her cuntal walls. The sensation was phenomenal. She gasped, and her hips started to rock up and down in the water.
The water had a sensuous impact of its own on the young girl's ardent body. As it swelled and moved in ponderous waves around her young flesh it created a sensation that was both erotic and soothing.
Her hips, moving through the water, seemed to be lifted, as by soft, sensuous hands. Her very asshole tingled with sympathetic pleasure, as she rubbed her finger in and out of her tiny, recently-opened twat. One finger wasn't enough.
The cock of the man who had stuffed her had made her hungry for more of the same, and her little fingers now felt almost inadequate. But still, the hot sensations coursed through her, and she needed to come again.
She removed one finger from her twat, and then stuck two fingers into her hot hole. She moaned again, and her body stiffened with the sensual effect of the two fingers.
That was much better!
She spread her fingers a little, feeling the pressure increase. Then she started to twirl them around in her cunt. Her pussy seemed to have developed a life of its own.
It rippled with hot pleasure, and she felt her cuntal walls close in greedily around the two little digits.
They soon became sticky with the syrup which flowed in hot streams from her young snatch. She pumped her fingers in and out of her cunt, driving them in until she had them buried up to her knuckles.
Her lust rose until it consumed her, and the need to come filled her with a fabulous heat which became feverish.
She raised her knees up out of the water, and spread her thighs as wide apart as the sides of the tub would allow. She pumped her two fingers in and out of her cunt, and at the same time her little thumb worked on the hardened love button, which sent thrilling shivers of pleasure through her.
Her body became covered with goose bumps, as the pleasure built and built, driving her body in humping motions up out of the water.
The water was moving in higher and higher waves, as she continued to stimulate herself. It splashed out of the tub, and dampened the thick shag rug. Molly was oblivious to everything but the hot, harsh, demanding waves of pre-orgasmic tension which coursed through her body.
She felt the first spasms of her orgasm grip at her muscles, and cause them to stiffen and shake with a fine tremor. Then her cunt convulsed, as the orgasm built, and coursed through her whole body.
She opened her mouth in a soundless scream. Her eyes were shut tightly as her hand battered at her newly-opened twat. The pleasure built and built until she felt almost delirious as the delicious spasms increased in violence.
Her body arched out of the water, her smooth skin streaming with the warm, oily water, as her climax peaked. With a huge sigh, she collapsed into the water again, as it started to fade away.
She kept pumping her hand in and out of her twat, until it became sore again, seeking to retain the hot pleasure which had filled her with a wild delirium. Her hand was shaking with the violent effort of frigging herself, and her body felt warm and relaxed.
Molly made a wry face, as she soaped herself, and washed herself off. She still felt hungry, still wanted more of that hot huge man who had taken her virginity.
But her hands were no longer enough for the kind of desire which gripped at her cunt. She needed cock and more cock.
She got out of the tub, and dried herself off, and then went to her room. That night, she frigged herself into total exhaustion.
Hill was only vaguely appalled at what he had done. The girl, when he had pulled out of her, had curled up like a contented cow. He had walked away from her silently, gone through the wood again, and come out near his own rolling lawn.
He felt a little bit as if he were wrapped in cotton. He should have been horrified at what he had done. He had two teenaged girls. His heart would have been rent in two had he found out that they had been subject to such a gruesome initiation into womanhood.
And yet it was because of that irrational, and insistent desire which he had for his daughters, that he had done what he had done.
He looked down at his dark trousers. There was a faint stain on them. He walked into the back door of his house, having traversed the lawn, and walked quietly up to the bedroom.
In the twins' room, he could hear their light chatter, and his wife's responding voice. At the sound of their young, piping voices, at the silvery peal of their laughter, his cock throbbed with lust again.
He took his costume off. There were bloodstains on the white gloves – the girl's slain virginity! He felt like a murderer, and yet, he felt no guilt, only a vague mental idea that he had done a heinous wrong.
Having removed his clothes, he carefully hid them away in a closet to be disposed of later, and then went to the bathroom to wash off the evidence of his rape. His cock was blood-stained, and glistened slightly with the juices of the little girl.
She had come wildly, and the very thought of it caused him to think of his daughters, coming under his humping body. His cock was fully erect.
There was a knock on the door.
"Hill?"
"Yes, darling," he responded. He knew his wife had a tight, sweet cunt. He was more than ready to give her his next load.
The door opened a little bit.
"Can I come in?"
"You certainly can. Why don't you share the shower?"
Helen looked behind the curtains.
"Hill, darling!" she purred, seeing his hard-on. In a moment, she was naked, her lush curves undulating with eagerness, as she stepped into the shower.
Hill grabbed her and pulled her against his hard, well-developed chest.
She moaned, and spread her legs slightly, feeling his cock, fully erect, slip between her legs, and rub against her pussy meat.
Helen was as hot and ready as her husband. Hill moaned, and undulated his hips back and forth, teasing the throbbing shaft of his cock against her wet and swollen snatch.
Helen closed her thighs together, making a warm nest for Hill's cock. He held her close, and Helen felt her nipples pucker. She rubbed her tits against his chest, stimulating her sensitive tit-flesh.
She could feel her pussy meat swelling with the passion Hill always evoked in her. His hard, thick cock continued to rub back and forth between her legs, pressing into her cuntal meat, driving her crazy.
She threw her arms around Hill's neck, and reached up to kiss her husband. She felt his warm, sensual mouth on her mouth, covering her lips. She felt his tongue snake between her unresisting teeth.
She sucked on his tongue, drawing it deeply into her throat. Their saliva mixed as they kissed passionately, deeply.
Helen moaned, feeling the heat rise as her husband's massive ramrod rubbed back and forth over her twat.
As he thrust forward, his hairy groin rubbed against the upper part of her twat, and tickled her inflamed clitoris, until she felt her pussy juices flowing lavishly from her overheated cunt.
Her hips ground with more and more ardor into her husband's hairy groin. Hill's arms tightened, and he lifted his wife up, and pressed her sweating, trembling back against the tiled wall of the shower.
"Ohh, Hill, you're so wonderful!" Helen gasped, as she hooked her long, dancer's legs around her husband's waist. She felt him pressing his cock against the drooling entrance to her womanhood.
She panted with desire, and groaned loudly, as she felt his massive cock head thrust hungrily into her. Her pussy walls parted, and her husband began to push inward.
She felt his cock, like a libidinous snake, slithering into her well-greased hole. She felt the pussy flesh twitch and jerk, as the hot hard shaft massaged her hungry, itching walls.
His cock slipped into her quivering quim, until the cock head was prying into the depths of her teeming well.
Helen shivered, as Hill started to move in her, drawing his huge cock out to the tip, and then thrusting it inward again. He lunged into her womanhood over and over again, each lunge driving the heat of Helen's lust higher and higher.
She felt her cuntal walls close in tightly around his hard-thrusting cock, felt his desire building, felt his cock swell in her cunt.
She melted in the heat of his embrace, clutching at him tightly, loving him, surrendering to the hot wild feelings which his hard-humping cock drove through her body.
Hill had a cock that seemed to have a life of its own. She adored Hill for all his wonderful personal qualities, but she couldn't help adoring him just as much for that magnificent cock.
And the most wonderful thing was, that the more they lived together, the older their marriage got, the more he seemed to want her. There was absolutely no reason on earth why Helen would let herself go to pieces. She still wore the same size she had when she got married, and her hunger, far from being assuaged, was increased by her husband's frequent sexual demands.
As a matter of fact, her husband kept her so well-greased, that she made a few demands of her own. It kept both of them amiable and pleasant-natured. She might have thought differently about her husband's hot and heavy sexual patterns if she had known the cause of them was her own twins!
As Helen moaned under her husband's battering, she thought, as she frequently did, that she was the luckiest woman in the world, and she had the best husband!
Hill was banging into her now, furiously. She squealed as she felt the first spasms of her climax grip at her lovely, flat belly.
She gripped her husband around his neck tightly. The grip of her legs around his humping waist tightened, as she felt the sweet convulsions of her orgasm ripple through her body.
"Unh! You have a marvelous cunt," Hill gasped. His mouth sought his wife's and again, she coped pleasurably with two tongues in her hot oral cavity.
Her body started to writhe against her husband's, as he thrust inward. She could feel the heat of his cock increase as he rubbed it back and forth.
Every time he slammed into her, his thrusting getting more and more violent as his need to come increased, his hairy groin smashed into her pussy lips, and caused her clitoris to tingle with more intense pleasure.
Her hard little love button became more and more inflamed, as her husband increased the strength and speed of his humping.
Helen gasped, and pressed her head hard against the tiles. Her hips started to jerk spastically. She slammed her inflamed muff against her husband's humping groin, as the first spasms of her orgasm rippled through her.
Her cunt closed in around the hard invader which plowed out the wet meadow of her womanhood.
She felt the spastic rippling of her cuntal walls against her husband's throbbing shaft.
She squealed loudly, as she felt the first gush of his jism.
"Ohhh!" Helen gasped, as wad after wad of her husband's steaming come juice poured hotly into her overheated cunt. She felt his come cream mixing with the syrup which flowed rapidly down her twitching, spastic snatch. It poured out, a slimy mixture, and flowed to the bathtub, where it got washed down the drain, mixing with the water in an oily stream.
Her husband's balls, soaking wet and slimy with their combined come cream, slapped wetly against her quivering ass.
Helen's beautiful face became flushed with lust. Her body squirmed against her husband's body. She heard his moaning, and her ears rang with all the wonderful sensual sensations which coursed through her.
Her husband thrust into her wildly with one last thrust, and Helen felt the last of his load spew into her still quivering quim.
"Oh, nice, Hill," she gasped, as her convulsions eased out, leaving behind a warm bloated feeling of sensual bliss.
He smiled at her, his face still distorted with lust, his eyes still glowing with his passion.
"You're nice, too," he said, letting her down gently. He pressed her quivering body against his, and held her until the trembling of her pleasure faded away.
That was one of the wonderful things about Hill, Helen thought, as she pressed her hot and sweaty face into his chest. She pressed her ear against his heart, hearing it hammer violently, listening as the beating of his heart became more gentle.
He was not only a wild and furious stud, he was always, after he had fucked, such a gentle lover. She pressed her muff against his, feeling his cock dwindle, soften – if a cock of the size and capacity of Hill's could ever be said to dwindle or soften.
She rubbed her pussy meat against his hairy groin.
"Do you want to start all over again?" he said, smiling down at her. Helen reached for his cock, and felt the warm, throbbing meat in her hand.
"Yes, whenever you're ready," she said to her husband.
He reached down and kissed her on her nose.
"Later. And that's a promise. Here, let me scrub your back," Hill said, taking up the scrubbing brush and soap. He lavished all his husbandly care and affection on his wife's smooth skin, caressed her tits, aroused himself all over again.
When Hill thought about the desire he had for his wife, he wondered where his love and lust for her ended, and the love and lust he had for his daughters began.
He could never make up his mind. Helen was a loving and sweet and dutiful wife, and the most wonderful thing about her, in Hill's estimation, was that everything which should be duty for most wives, appeared to be fun and games for Helen.
She never said no to him, and made many passes of her own, a fact Hill always appreciated. A man married to the same woman for almost fifteen years likes to know that he's still attractive, and still desirable. His own desire for his daughters, inflicted frequently on his wife, served to complete a circle. He made her feel good, and feeling good, his wife returned the favor.
She seemed to enjoy housework, cooking, taking care of his relatively simple needs, and her body was even better than it had been when they were first married.
Both of them exercised regularly and kept themselves in good shape. They had married young, and were fortunate enough to be still young for their lovely twin daughters.
Helen responded to Hill caresses, feeling her pussy cream flow hotly from her well-fucked box. She returned her husband's favors, scrubbing his back, caressing his muscular ass, and soaping his cock more than necessary.
She felt his cock get hard again in her hands, and she shivered with anticipation. It was going to be another long, hot night.
And there was nothing that Helen liked better!