Hill walked to school the next day, braced by his golden-haired daughters. They always walked the half-mile, and Hill intended to keep it that way, even in the worst of weather.
He was a good parent, but certainly not an over-protective one. He knew that the bracing fresh air, even on the coldest days would do them no harm, and would do them a great deal of good.
He included himself in that nostrum, and followed it, which was why he was so young-looking and well-built, and filled with the same high spirits and good health as his adored and adoring daughters.
There was a slight damper, but not much, on his enthusiasm this morning. There was a growing apprehension about the consequences of his rape of the night before.
He was conscious that both his daughters were looking up at him. He looked down at their up-turned sparkling blue eyes, and his grip on their soft little hands tightened unconsciously.
They responded by tightening their grip.
On their way up the hill to the seminary, Debrah stopped suddenly.
"Oh, there's Molly and Sarah and Irving!" she exclaimed. "Hold up, Daddy, let's wait for them."
Hill stiffened slightly and turned. And there she was, his daughters' best friend, laughing, and running to catch up with them, with Sarah and Abel Cohen. Sarah was going to be a tall, gorgeous beauty of classic Semitic looks. Her hair was blue-black, and her eyes were also black. They were large, almond-shaped, and thickly-fringed with black lashes.
Hill felt a stirring in his loins as he stared at her ripe frame. She was more developed than the other girls, and her features were radiant.
She was one of Hill's most promising students.
"Hi, Mr. Ames," Molly said, her eyes sparkling as she caught up with the trio. Hill examined her closely. She certainly didn't seem any the worse for wear. No trauma appeared in that lilting step, no morose ponderings in that cheerful, wide-open face. Hill muttered a silent prayer of thanks to himself.
"Wait'll you hear what I've got to tell you!" Molly gasped to the twins.
"What?" Donna gasped.
"Later! Later!"
"Unh, I see," Hill said, as he caught her surreptitious glance at him. "It's not fit for adult ears, ehh?"
Molly giggled and blushed. "Well, no, as a matter of fact. It's a girl-type secret."
"Oh, I see."
Irving, who was as dark as his sister, but a little less healthy-looking, was panting. He had a peevish expression on his face, not uncommon for him.
"How are you this morning, Irving?" Hill asked, knowing that the boy dearly loved to be asked the question. In his classes, he would not indulge his little quirks. He was spoiled rotten by his mother who always fancied he was coming down with various ills, and Irving played it to the hilt.
"I'm coming down with a cold, and Mother and Father had a terrible fight, because I should be home in bed, and Father said I couldn't stay home."
Irving went to the adjacent school for boys, called Willow Hill. The two schools shared many functions and many teachers, and gym facilities. And they ate together in the huge cafeteria which was in the building with the gym.
Sarah was almost always saddled with her brother, unless she could get rid of him, or run away from him. There was two years difference between them, the boy being younger, and Sarah's mother was always foisting the care of him on the little girl.
Sarah was wiser than her mother in the ways of her brother, and always called his bluff.
"You wouldn't have been coughing and feeling sick this morning, if you hadn't sneaked Daddy's cigarettes last night," she said, staring at the young boy balefully.
"I did not!"
"I saw you!"
"No you didn't."
"Now, now! Children!" Hill exclaimed, seeking to thwart the imminent argument.
The two little creatures gazed at each other intensely for a moment, and then they were distracted by the arrival of several boys.
Somehow, Irving seemed to get swept up in them, as a frail leaf gets carried away in a whirlwind and the four girls were left with the tall handsome man.
Debrah and Donna were, of course, in their element. They were proud of their father, and aware that all of the little girls in the school adored him.
And it was true. Sarah and Molly looked up at him, with almost as much adoration as Debrah and Donna, and the twins preened in their father's reflected glory.
Hill played the spy that day in school. There was not one hint from anyone, from the teachers, or from Molly herself that anything out of the ordinary had happened.
Hill became puzzled. Molly had been excited about something. But no, he thought to himself with disbelief, she wouldn't have been excited about being raped – or would she?
Again he remembered her frothing pussy cream welling up in her virginal cunt, and greasing his cock. Again he remembered her wild convulsions under him, her frantic writhing, as she came.
It could be!
Hill wandered around the school during lunch, seeking out the places where the girls might gather.
A bright thought occurred to him.
Frequently, when the girls wanted to exchange confidences without being overheard, they went down, to the boathouse.
He walked in that direction, responding pleasantly to greetings on his way, until he came to the small wooded area, which surrounded the lake. On a spit of land which jutted out into the large body of water, was the boathouse, and there was a pier in front of it.
He looked around him cautiously. There was no one.
He crept up to the back of the boathouse, near a window, and he heard the childish laughter of several girls.
"Well, what did it feel like!" he heard one little voice ask. It sounded like Sarah.
"Oh, it was absolutely fantastic!"
That was definitely Molly's voice, which he recognized quite readily, since she was frequently at the house.
"Ohhh!" he heard the voice of one of his own beloved daughters respond, "what I wouldn't do to have it happen to me."
"Well, I think all you have to do is walk by the lake," Molly said.
"To think you got your cherry popped first in all the class!" the other little voice exclaimed.
Hill peered into the dimness of the boathouse. Sitting around on top of one of the boats, which was covered with tarpaulin, were his daughters, Molly, Sarah, and a young bright redhead named Anita Lewis.
"I'm going to start walking by the lake tonight," Sarah declared. Her house was also close to the lake behind Hill's house.
Hill felt his cock lurch to powerful life in his pants. He couldn't believe the conversation he was hearing, and yet, he could.
"Me, too!" Anita said.
"No, you can't!" Molly exclaimed with dismay. "We can't all do it at once, or he won't come again, and none of us will get fucked."
"But you've already had your cherry popped!" Debrah exclaimed. "Now it's our turn. I think you should just stay home and let the rest of us take turns till we all get raped!"
Hill's body flattened against the wall of the boathouse. His own daughter! And she wanted to be raped!
He couldn't understand it.
"Oh, he was so wonderful!" Molly crooned. "Better than I ever hoped it would be!"
"I wish I could get raped. I think grown men are better than boys anyway," Sarah said mournfully. "All they do is pinch, and pant, and they never seem to get anywhere."
The girls all giggled.
Hill was now laughing silently to himself.
In France, the tradition was to send a young boy to a brothel in the company of an older man, and it was the tradition for older men to seduce younger girls, and Hill, deducing his conclusion from what the horny little girls were saying now, decided that it wasn't such a bad idea.
His only objection was that they were so young!
He decided, however, that he was judging them on his own very subjective feelings about his own daughters. He would hate to see them deflowered by bunglers when they were too young to physically cope with the situation.
Over and above that very realistic consideration, Hill was so enamored of them, that he was absolutely jealous of any boy they brought home. He compensated for his feelings by being excessively nice to the boys, who always came back for more, finding an older man who talked to them nicely, and sympathized with them without getting aloof or paternalistic.
Hill winced, feeling his raging cock throbbing against the prison of his pants. He was so thoroughly aroused by what he had heard that his tumescence caused him pain.
It was going to be a long afternoon before he got home, he thought to himself.
Slowly, a rather perverted plot formed in his head.
He could very easily compensate for his incestuous desire for his daughters by amusing himself with the sexual education of some of the girls whom he taught. He felt a sense of relief, knowing that he hadn't hurt Molly, but he became more and more enamored of his idea, as the afternoon wore on.
When he went home, he needed relief desperately. Debrah and Donna were staying after school for choir practice, and would be home later.
He started on his homeward trip, intent on making love to his wife. Before he turned the corner into the wide, tree-lined street where his house was, he passed a meadow. It was thick with shrubbery, and the grass was high.
Frequently, the children played in the lush jungle of vegetation. He heard singing. The voice was high and sweet.
He peered over the broken hedge into the meadow, and saw Sarah, sitting underneath a bush. She was making a chain of dandelions.
Hill's fingers itched to get at the little girl, and then he realized that he was not disguised, and he didn't want to take the chance of being recognized. That would spoil the game immediately, and sure enough, one of the girls would talk!
He hurried homeward, cursing the chance he had missed, and determined in future to prepare himself for such opportunities.
Sarah was such a luscious piece of teenaged ass that he would hate to pass her up.
"Hello, darling! Did you have a good day?" his wife asked, kissing him on the cheek, as he came up behind her at the stove, where she was preparing supper.
Hill put his arms around her waist, and pressed her back into his raging hard-on.
Helen shivered with delight, and automatically turned down the fire under the food, and checked the oven. She could feel her husband's hard-on against her fine, firm buns, and her pussy started to cream.
Hill turned her around, and framed his wife's beautiful, heart-shaped face in his hands, bringing her face very close to his, so that their breaths mingled.
He looked deeply into her eyes, and Helen melted in the gaze.
She tilted her mouth up for a kiss, and moaned as his mouth covered hers.
Hill's tongue thrust inward sensuously. He flicked his tongue around and around on his wife's soft lips, and then pried it in slowly, into her mouth.
As he kissed her, he was in his mind's eye, kissing Sarah, and he became more and more aroused, but also more and more gentle. Helen was aware of the soft quality, the burning desire, the sweetness of the kiss.
She threw her arms around his neck, and pressed her muff into her husband's raging hard-on, feeling the thick, hard meat pushing against her quivering muff.
"Oh, Hill," she moaned, softly.
"Have I ever told you how marvelous you are?" Hill said softly, tracing the clean plane of her cheek from her high cheek bones down to her chin.
"All the time," Helen murmured, grabbing his hand and kissing it. "I'm the luckiest woman in the world, and I have the best husband."
She sucked on one of Hill's fingers, and then bit it gently. Hill grunted, and pulled his wife away from the work counter, where he had pressed her. Taking her by the hand, he led her into the family room, off the kitchen, and closed and locked the door.
He pulled her toward the couch, and sat down, pulling her down on his lap.
Again he kissed her.
Helen, sitting on his muscular, lean thighs, felt the tremor of his passion, and responded to it with a passion of her own.
She sucked her husband's tongue into her mouth, and bit on it gently. He started to raise her skirt, and fondled her muff, feeling the juices of her lust soaking her panties.
Helen lifted off his lap slightly, as his fingers hooked into the elastic waistband, and pulled them off, down to her knees.
Kicking her legs, Helen worked them down to her ankles, and then dropped them.
Her husband pushed her onto her back on the couch, and raised her skirt above her hips, until it was bunched at her waist, while Helen fumbled with his belt buckle, releasing it, and then pulled down his fly zipper.
She moaned, as her husband's erection popped out at her, hard and ready, and pulsing with lust. She gripped it, kneading the soft flesh which encased his hardness.
Hill lay on top of his wife's lush body, and pulled his pants down around his knees. He felt his lust grow as his wife's hands reached around to cup his tight, muscular buttocks.
He placed his cock at the entrance to her pussy, and thrust inward slowly. His cock head slipped easily into her well-buttered cunt, she was so hot and creamy – smooth and wet!
He worked his hands under her sweating back, pressing her tits against his throbbing chest, flattening them out.
Helen moaned, feeling her nipples pucker, feeling the hot ripples of pleasure which the sensitive buds sent through her body.
Hill pushed inward, feeling his wife's tight cunt give way before the fleshy onslaught of his powerful prick. He felt the sensitive flesh twitch and tingle under the wet soft stimulation of her soft tunnel.
"Oh, Hill," Helen moaned, as she felt her husband's cock thrust inward, until she felt his balls pressing against her quivering ass cheeks.
She kept her hands on his firm, powerful buttocks, thrilling to the sensation of his muscles rippling, as he raised his ass high in the air, pulling his cock out until only the tip of it was embedded in her cunt, and then lunged forward again, driving his cock deeply into the steaming well of her sex.
Helen could feel the hard beating of Hill's heart against her tit, felt the warmth of his body, which radiated from his clothes and into her body. Helen felt as if she were melting in Hill's embrace, as he moved his cock in and out of her sensuously, slowly, driving his cock deeply into her, and pulling it out with smooth, firm strokes.
Her cuntal walls closed in around his massive peter. She felt the heat of his prick permeate the twitching walls of her cunt. Her pussy juices flowed lavishly out of her cunt, and trickled out of her tightly-stuffed hole. It dribbled in a warm, slimy stream down her ass crack, and pooled on the leather cushions beneath her humping ass.
She ground her swollen, hot pussy up into Hill's hairy groin. Her clitoris tingled and jerked as it made hot contact with his wiry pubic hairs.
Her breathing issued from her passion-constricted throat in gasping sobs, as her heat built.
Hill drove his indefatigable dork in and out of her cunt. Helen kneaded the flesh of his ass cheeks, savoring the smoothness of his skin. His cock felt hot and hard in her cunt as it drove deeply and smoothly in and out of her.
She started to grind her hips upward, mashing her swollen pink flesh against her husband's hairy groin. She became wanton, wild, as the passion increased.
Her husband continued to hump in and out of her with a steady, demanding force, as Helen started to go wild under him.
She felt lost in his arms, felt as if she were drowning in the weight of his passion.
He grunted, and his humping became harder, and faster. Helen felt his cock swelling in her cunt. She felt it growing, felt it like a wild snake slithering deeper into the dark, wet reaches of her sex tunnel.
She threw her legs around her husband's hard-humping waist, and clung to him, as the first throes of her orgasm gripped at her gut, like a warm, wet fist, massaging her entrails gently, exacting from them their pleasure.
She felt the pleasure well up hotly, felt her pussy juices spew out of her tightly-stuffed hole. She started to whimper as the delicious delirium overtook her mind, fogging it. The spasms in her gut spread outward in hot, ponderous waves, until her itching cuntal walls began to convulse.
She felt her muscles gripping at her husband's hard-driving dork, felt her orgasm drive higher and higher, as her husband continued to plow in and out of the hot dark hole of her pussy.
She gripped at his waist with her legs, and pulled his face down to hers, kissing him hotly, greedily. Hill's mouth took possession of hers, and his tongue flicked in and out of her hot oral cavity with almost the same rhythm that his cock was driving in and out of her hot, wet cunt.
Helen felt totally abandoned to the pleasure of her husband's lust, felt her orgasm wash over her in convulsive wave after wave, until she writhed like a mad woman under her husband's strong, demanding body.
As her orgasm peaked, Hill's cock exploded with its hot eruption of man juice. Helen felt her cunt, like a hungry, gaping maw, suck up the juices, deep into her womb, where they mixed hotly with her pussy cream, and then poured back down her cunt, spilling out in a golden stream onto her thoroughly soaked ass.
Against her quivering, humping ass cheeks, her husband's balls slapped wildly, wetly, lewdly.
Hill's cock made wet sucking noises, as it thrust in and out of her quivering, convulsing quim.
Helen heard him grunt, felt his grip on her flailing body tighten, as his cock pistoned in and out of her like greased lightning, every inward thrust depositing another load of scum into her hot and eager hole.
Helen squealed as her orgasm peaked, and then started to fade awry. She writhed against him for a long time. Her orgasm was prolonged, and powerful, and when she finally relaxed against her husband's still-heaving body, while he emptied his balls into her, she was still trembling with the intense pleasure of the fuck she had had.
Hill thrust into her one last time, and then lay, relaxed, and trembling with the aftermath of his own orgasm, pressing her body into the couch.
"I love being fucked by you," Helen said. "You have to be the best stud in the world."
"Keep up that talk, and I'll fuck you again."
"I'd love you to!" Helen exclaimed, squeezing her pussy muscles against Hill's still raging ramrod.
She rubbed her tits against her husband's chest, wishing she were naked. But it was almost time for the children to come home, and there was supper to finish.
Hill looked at his watch, and frowned slightly. He pulled out of her. He helped her to a sitting position.
Helen squirmed against the leather seat of the couch, feeling the soft sensuous touch of the leather against her come-covered, bare ass. Their combined come cream oozed out of her tight hole, arousing Helen, greasing her for more action.
She reached down and picked up her panties, and put them on, loving the sticky-wet feel of their combined juices against her sex flesh.
Hill grabbed her and hugged her tightly, and then kissed her.
"Enough!" she gasped. "I have to finish supper."
"I'm going out for a walk and have a pipe," Hill said.
"Supper will be ready in an hour. You'll have plenty of time," Helen said, gazing fondly at her husband one last time before she left the room.
Hill walked up the stairs to the bathroom, to wipe himself off. Then, looking at his watch, he got a powerful gleam in his eyes which was physically reflected in his cock's getting hard again, immediately.
Around Sylvan Hills, everyone ate about six-thirty, unless there were dinner parties, which were usually at the standard eight o'clock. But the children, encouraged to stay out-of-doors as much as possible, didn't have to come home until just before supper time.
He wondered, if he got his costume, if Sarah would still be in that meadow. The light was rapidly fading from the sky, as the day passed. There was plenty of cover, and the wood behind his lawn traveled in an unbroken line to the meadow. He could at least get to the meadow undetected.
Sarah had expressed a desire to have her cherry popped, and Hill was more than willing to oblige.
He pulled out the costume from its hiding place. He would have to find a place for it, outside the house. For this evening, he knew he could get out without his wife's seeing him with it, since she was busy in the kitchen.
He would go out the front door, and then around to the back of the house in a diagonal path that led away from the large windows in the kitchen.
When he got to the woods, he put on the mask and cape with trembling hands. He decided not to use the gloves. He buried the gloves deep in the loam-rich soil. They were only a hindrance. Without them, he could feel the sweet young flesh. With them, he could feel nothing, a fact which had frustrated him when he raped Molly.
The other good thing about Sarah's location, if she were still in the meadow, was that it was situated far enough away from the lake to make his actions sufficiently unpredictable so that no one could foresee them, or anticipate them.
He grinned as he tread softly in the woods, keeping a keen eye on the shifting shadows in case there were children around, playing hide and seek, cocking his head every now and then to listen.
The woods got darker and darker, as he progressed through them to the field.
That wouldn't stop the children from playing in them. Fear was absent in Sylvan Hills, and the darkness held no terrors for its inhabitants.
It obviously held no terrors for eager little virgins, waiting to have their cherries popped, either!
Hill came up close to the meadow. He peered through a tree on the edge of the forest. Sarah was picking more dandelions. Her hair wore a golden crown of them, and there was a large necklace of them falling down over her full breasts.
Hill crouched down and stalked, like a beast of prey.
He knew that he had to have her and, right, then and there.