The twins, as soon as their mom closed the door to their room, turned and looked at each other, their eyes glowing with mischief.
Debrah got out of bed, and padded on her dainty white feet, over to Donna's bed. The twins curled up beside each other, to talk.
"He was so handsome tonight, didn't you think so?" Debrah asked her sister, who was one minute and thirty seconds younger than she.
"I just almost died!" Donna exclaimed. "My pussy just creamed and creamed."
"I thought I'd die, too. How can you stand it?"
"How can either of us stand it. It's awful! Do you realize that we're guilty of a great sin? We're in love with our very own father!"
"I can't help it," Debrah said, quietly.
They lay together quietly, not saying anything for a moment.
"Did you feel his hard-on, when you sat on his lap after supper?" Debrah asked her sister.
"Oooh, don't remind me!" Donna said.
Debrah heard the soft rustle of the sheet, and looked down. She saw her sister's hand moving up and down over her lightly-furred triangle.
"I wish I could fuck him," Debrah said, her own hand moving down over her body, and under the elastic waist band of her pajama bottoms. She jumped slightly at the hot pleasure her hand gave her, when it cupped her little twat.
"Debrah?"
"Huh?"
"Wanna do each other?"
Debrah smiled in the dark, and again the rustling of the sheets was heard in the room, as the girls threw off their covers, and then their pajamas.
Before long, the two girls were in the classic sixty-nine position.
Debrah inhaled deeply of her sister's muff.
"Yummm! It smells like fresh fish and soap," she said.
Donna giggled, her flat little belly shaking with her laughter. That set Debrah off, and she started to giggle.
Donna's hips arched upward, as her laughter faded. Her sister's warm breath puffed against her swollen pussy meat.
"Oooh, Debrah," she whispered, her voice breathy with lust, "that feels so good."
"Don't you wish it were Daddy?" Debrah asked.
Donna moaned, and Debrah, examining her sister's cunt, watched the fluids drool out of it at the mention of their father.
"Let's see," Debrah said. "This is what Daddy's cock would feel like, only you have to multiply it by ten."
She shoved her finger into her sister's tiny, virginal slit. Donna gasped and arched her hips up.
She started to spread Debrah's little pussy lips wide, and pried one finger into her twin sister's hot little hole.
Debrah, feeling Donna's growing excitement, slithered her finger in farther, until it was buried knuckle-deep in her sister's slit. She wiggled it around and around.
Donna moaned, and bucked her hips up against the finger, trying to drive it in further.
Donna's finger imitated Debrah's. She twirled her forefinger around and around. She was fascinated with the feel of her sister's cuntal flesh.
"Debrah, you feel like wet silk," Donna said, exploring every inch that her finger could reach.
Donna started to push her finger in and pull it out rhythmically. She felt her sister's cuntal walls close in around the finger, felt the gush of her sister's pussy fluids, as her little finger teased her sister to wild arousal.
"Oh, Donna, that feels so sexy."
"What do you suppose two fingers would feel like?" Donna asked, terribly excited by her sister Debrah's fingers in her cunt.
"More like Daddy's cock, I guess," Debrah said, withdrawing her one finger, and trying to insert two.
Donna grunted.
Debrah looked over her shoulders at her sister.
"Did that hurt, Donna?"
"Well, not exactly. I don't know what it felt like, but keep doing it. You want me to try it with you?"
"Yeah," Debrah said, returning her attention to the two fingers she was trying to insert into her sister's cunt.
Donna's barely-furred little muff arched upward, driving Debrah's fingers deeper and deeper into her twat.
It felt strangely uncomfortable, but at the same time, it was a fantastic feeling.
"Do you suppose we could seduce Daddy?" Donna asked, as her lovely little hips started to beat a wild tattoo on the bed. Debrah had barely inserted the tips of both fingers into Donna's cunt.
She was a little afraid she'd hurt Donna, because the flesh was so tight, but she kept working the tips of her fingers around, and slowly but surely, more and more of her fingers became lodged in the little girl's cunt.
Donna grunted, momentarily pausing in her stimulation of her sister, as she got used to the sensation of what her sister was doing.
Then she started to insert two fingers in her sister's cunt. Donna grunted, feeling how tight Debrah's cunt was.
"Does it hurt, Debrah?" she asked.
"N-nooo, not really. But it does feel strange, like you said."
Donna pushed in, feeling the tight, virginal flesh give a little more with each thrust.
Her own cunt felt as if it were on fire, as Debrah inserted more and more of the length of the two fingers around.
Donna pushed in, until the tips of her fingers were buried in her sister's pulsing pussy. She could feel the powerful throb of her sister's excitement against her digits, as she rested them at the entrance to Debrah's cunt.
Debrah's fingers were doing a marvelous job on Donna's cunt. She started to twirl her fingers around and around, not trying to get them deeper into her sister's incredibly tight twat. The feeling of Debrah's fingers massaging just the entrance to her cunt was fantastic.
Donna's hips were gyrating upward. Each time she thrust upward, more and more excited by her sister's fingers, she drove her sister's fingers ever so slightly deeper into her cunt. The pressure began to build in her ardent body.
Pretty soon, both of them were moaning, as the twirled their fingers around in each other's cunt.
Donna thrust upward again, and this time her sister's fingers became so deeply embedded in her cunt, that Donna felt the tips of her fingers press against her maidenhead.
"Ouch, stop, Debrah. That's my cherry you're touching," she gasped.
"I'm sorry," Debrah said, removing her fingers a little. She was squirming around and around on Donna's fingers, and without being aware of it, thrusting down further and further, driving Donna's fingers further into her own cunt.
"Ahh, Donna, now you're pushing against my cherry!" Debrah gasped, feeling the slight sting.
The two of them twirled their fingers around and around the edges of their little twats.
"Ohhh!" Donna moaned, withdrawing her fingers from Debrah's twat. "Lick me, Debrah, please. This isn't any fun. Daddy's cock must go deeper than that."
Donna was blessed for her remark by a flow of Debrah's jism on her chin, as the little girl became terribly aroused.
Debrah pulled her fingers out of Donna's cunt, and pressed her mouth against her sister's sweet little twat.
Her tongue appeared, pink and gleaming with her saliva, and she tasted her sister's come cream, which formed a thick, slimy patina on her gleaming meat.
Debrah started to lap Donna off, and Donna was willing and eager to return her sister's favor. She stuck her tongue out, flattened it, and dug it into Debrah's blood-engorged snatch.
Against her tongue, she could feel the throbbing of Debrah's pussy. She started to move her tongue up and down over the thick swollen folds, every now and then withdrawing her sweet little mouth to lick off the pussy juices from her lips, and to savor the musky taste and fragrance of them.
Debrah tightened her little tongue and started to circle Donna's clitoris eagerly. She felt the little nubbin elongate, pop out of its fleshy sheath, and twitch under her lashing tongue.
Donna's hips, excited by Debrah's tongue, started to hump up and down, as Debrah's eager, hot, wet little tongue pried into her pussy meat and raised Donna's lustful temperature to a fever pitch.
Debrah moaned, driven to her own personal frenzy by Donna's tongue. Donna ran her tongue freely and wildly over Debrah's twat, pressing her tongue against the swollen, silky-soft delicate flesh, and then prying into her sister's hot, drooling little hole.
Both the little girls were making wet, sucking noises, as they munched on each other's muff.
Debrah started to whimper, excited by Donna's tongue against her clitoris. Donna started to lash out at the girl's little love button, flicking her tongue back and forth, teasing the hot, hard little button until it shivered with ecstasy, and sent tingling messages of pleasure through Debrah's besotted body.
They were both beginning to sweat, as their lust built to a feverish, hectic pitch. Donna moaned continuously, and the more excited she got the more enthusiastic her mouth became on her sister's cunt.
The two of them started to tremble. The bed vibrated with their shaking bodies and the wild tremors which shook them, as their orgasms coursed through them.
Debrah ran her hands over her sister's calves, feeling the smooth skin, and getting more and more aroused by the smell and taste of Donna's cunt.
Donna's hands moved up over her sister's rippling ass cheeks, and she kneaded the soft flesh, moaning with the pleasure of her hands on her sister's sweet ass flesh.
Debrah drove her muff heavily into Donna's mouth. Her juices flowed hotly from her tight twat, and covered Donna's cheeks and chin. Donna pried her tongue deeply into her sister's quivering quim, and started to suck up her come juices.
Deep in the pit of her own belly, she felt the ripples of her own orgasm. The contractions started softly, with almost subtle sensations, and built under the pressure of Debrah's tongue, until Donna's hips writhed and thrashed around on the bed.
Debrah felt her body bounced around by her sister's wild flailing. She knew that Donna was coming, and the very knowledge that she was coming made her more and more excited.
She started to come herself. She drove her pussy into her sister's mouth lasciviously, grinding her swollen pussy meat against her sister's mouth, feeling her passion mount, until she lost all sense of restraint, all sense of who she was and where she was.
The only thing she was aware of was her twat being sucked on by Donna. Donna was feeling approximately the same way.
She felt her hips arching up and down, as she slammed her twat against Debrah's hard-sucking mouth. She moaned against Debrah's mouth, as she felt her own climax build, take possession of her body.
The two sisters clutched at each other in their frenzy, moaning and shivering wildly as wave after hot wave of ecstasy coursed through them.
They sweated, and their cunts poured with their honey. Both of them strove to drink it all up, but their faces were covered with the thick syrup.
Debrah felt her orgasm peak. Her body stiffened for a moment, and her flicking tongue pried into Donna's fuck hole. She felt her sister's pussy meat close in around her tongue.
Then her face flushed a vivid shade of red, and her body continued to hump up and down furiously, as her orgasm peaked and then started to fade away leaving lots of little convulsions in its wake.
Donna bucked her hips up into her sister's face a little longer, and then she, too, collapsed.
The two beautiful, angelic-looking little girls lay entwined for a few moments, their tits heaving passionately as they strove to normalize their breathing.
Debrah looked over her shoulders at her sister. She almost looked as if she were asleep but Debrah knew better. She squirmed around until she was face to face with her sister again, and they embraced.
"Do you think we're perverted?" Debrah asked.
"Lord, no! We've discussed this before."
"I know, but still it makes me feel bad, sometimes."
"Why, don't I do it good enough for you?"
"Oh, no, Donna, it's not that at all. I just wonder. I mean, well, here we are, the two of us, playing with each other, having sex with each other, and we both have the hots for our father."
"Well, you have to admit he's the most super father in the world," Donna said, softly.
"I know. I can't find a boy I like better. Molly says she doesn't care who pops her cherry, but I'd rather Daddy did it to me."
"But he loves Mommy."
"He loves us, too."
There was silence, while the two girls contemplated their dilemma. And then they fell asleep in each other's arms, burrowing under the covers, until only their golden heads showed.
Hill was unusually quiet that night. Helen noticed and said nothing.
She wasn't someone to pry into the private lives of anyone, not her husband's or her children's. She knew in all good time that he would tell her, if he wanted her to know.
The two of them kept that respect for each other's, privacy. Helen knew there were times when she appreciated it.
They had rinsed off, and then put on bathrobes, and gone downstairs for a drink. Their conversation was minimal, but it wasn't strained.
Helen's pussy was purring, and she was aware of the throbbing bulge which could be seen in her husband's crotch. She knew there was more love-making, and that suited Helen just fine.
Hill was still finding it hard to believe that he had done what he had done. He kept going back in his mind to the lake, the soft breeze of early autumn, the golden-haired little Molly, her hand a blur of motion in the moonlight, frigging herself.
And the feel of the young girl's cunt, as he popped her cherry!
That, and/or his wife, and he wasn't sure, because his thoughts were so vague, kept his cock throbbing with lusty blood. He stared straight ahead at the oaken paneling of the family sitting room, where they were sitting.
He was also worrying. What if he had hurt the little girl? He was pretty sure he hadn't, and she had come like gangbusters. His cock lurched at the thought of the girl's pussy muscles gripping wildly at his cock as he lunged in and out of her.
It was not uncommon for Hill to take a pipe and go out wandering on the lawn for awhile, before going to bed.
He, looked down at his wife, around whose shoulders he had draped an arm. She was snuggled into the crook of his arm, quite content to remain silent. Occasionally she took a sip of her drink, and Hill would hear the chink of the ice in the glass, a nice, peaceful, homey sound.
He squeezed her shoulder and then kissed her on her forehead, hotly.
"Go to bed," he said, in a gruff voice. "I'm going to have a pipe and I'll be right up."
"Yes, Hill," Helen said, sweetly. The glow in her eyes, as she gazed up at her husband, went through him like a knife. It was so loving, so trusting, so happy! His wife didn't know she was looking at a child rapist.
Hill took his pipe, filled it, lit it, and then took his drink and went out onto the lawn. The night was quiet, and more chilly. He shivered slightly in the cool air, feeling the light wind pry into the folds of his bathrobe, and caress his hard-on.
He walked in leisurely fashion to the edge of the woods, and then went quietly through them until he came to the fringes of the lake. His heart was pounding.
This was a good way to get caught, he suddenly realized. And then the awful fact dawned on him, that indeed, what he had done was a matter for the police. He looked where he had seen Molly.
She was gone. He found nothing there to indicate that she had even been there. He went to the tree where she had been sitting. Nothing!
She could have been found and carried away, in which case, Hill was sure he would have seen the marks of other footprints. As it was, there was very little disturbance of the grass.
Hill wandered around the area, in gradually widening circles. He became pretty sure that she had picked herself up and walked away.
He still found it difficult to believe that he had done it. Not only that, he felt few qualms beyond some concern for her well-being. But then, he thought to himself, if he were truly concerned about her well-being, he wouldn't have done what he had done.
He walked back to his own home, and into the warm kitchen, locking the door after him.
In Sylvan Hills, doors were only locked at night.
But Sylvan Hills was now housing a rapist, in the form of one of its most respectable citizens.
Hill couldn't wait to get to the seminary the next day, to find out what, if anything, had been reported about Molly.
In the meantime, his wife, his beautiful, loving, faithful, trusting wife, was upstairs in their bedroom, waiting for him. And he knew before he walked into her room, that he would look in on his two beautiful teenaged daughters, for whom he entertained such a heinous lust, and they would be kissed and tucked in by a loving father who had raped a child no older than they!
The thing that bothered Hill was the lack of intensity of his feelings. He remembered all the great novels of his youth, which talked of the tortures of those who had committed crimes and had to pay for them, the agonies they endured when they felt the full weight of their guilt upon them.
Hill didn't feel any of this. He merely thought it.
Perhaps, he thought, committing a crime is like sustaining a severe wound. The trauma numbs you for a moment before the feeling comes.
Although he was distinctly edgy as he walked up the stairs to his room, he could not say he was afraid.
He peered into his daughters' bedroom.
They were, as usual, sharing a bed, their arms thrown around each other, their golden hair splashing on the pillow like a halo of molten gold.
He walked in and straightened out the covers, and kissed them softly on their sleep-warm, dewy soft cheeks, and his cock throbbed painfully, as he smelled the sleep-warm bodies, fragrant with soap and young childhood, and heard their soft breathing.
He walked out, looking at them for a long, long moment before he closed the door. The distance between his daughters' bedroom and the master bedroom was a matter of some twenty feet.
For Hill, thinking intensely, it felt like twenty miles.
He was a man who had betrayed every principle by which he lived. What he couldn't figure out was if he had been a hypocrite all his life, or if he were mentally deranged.
He had a beautiful wife, and two gorgeous daughters. He had lusted after them since they were six or seven, and the lust had grown until it was almost unbearable.
He really didn't know what to do about it.
The crime had really been so easy to commit. The little girl had been so readily seduced.
Granted, he had caught her in the act of frigging herself. She was aroused, and ready.
The other thing that bothered Hill was, would he do it again?
Hill was, to all intents and purposes, a menace to society.
He thought of his daughters, and wondered if they masturbated, if they gasped in the heat of their lust that they wanted to be fucked as little Molly Carpenter had.
And then he thought with a pang of her mother and father. What would they say when they found out? How would they react?
The Ames and the Carpenters had become very close friends. They lived close to each other, and spent a lot of time together.
And Debrah and Donna were very fond of Molly.
As Hill reached the door to his bedroom, and put his hand on the ornate brass knob to open it, he realized with a start and winced at the knowledge that Molly was to spend the weekend with them, while her parents visited an ailing brother of Harold's in another state.
In two days, that little girl whom he had raped was going to be in his house!
He wondered if he would still be in his house, or in jail as the arch felon he was. He kept forgetting that there were legal consequences of rape.
He opened the door and stepped into the dim room.
His wife smiled up at him from the bed.
"Hello, darling, I've been waiting for you," she said in her light sweet voice, with the slight touch of a lisp in it that Hill always found so incredibly enchanting, and never quite got used to, especially at moments like this.
He took off his robe, throwing it over the foot of the large brass bed. As he came closer to the bed, he looked for all the world like a Satyr. His cock, fully erect, the tip of it gleaming with pre-come, bobbed lewdly with his motions.
He got into the bed, and pulled Helen close to him, pressing an ardent kiss on her soft, up-tilted and ready lips.
He wanted to bury himself in her cunt, get lost in it, forget that he had done something despicable this evening.
And he did.
He fucked Helen furiously, feeling her cream gush over his hard-driving cock, feeling her press against him, for all the world as if she wanted to bury herself in his body.
He found himself in a familiar, and usually pleasurable quandary. In seeking his own shelter in his wife's sex, he found himself providing shelter and strength for his wife, lying pinned to the mattress, covered, by his hot, hard, humping body.