Jennifer Quinby opened the letter excitedly, pausing to exclaim over the light fragrance of Joy that clung to the envelope and declared its writer was long-lost conservatory friend Celeste.
"She can come!" squealed an ecstatic Jenn, hurrying to the bathroom where her husband was toweling from his shower.
"Who?" growled Frank, glaring at the early morning stubble on his face. "And why?"
"Celeste! My bosom' buddy from Gordon. Fifteen years, Frank! I don't believe she's finally coming."
"For how long?" His expression showed the excitement wasn't shared.
"At least a week. Maybe two. She's in the music circus at Fairfield. She's Carmen. Then she's doing a concert in Stamford and another…"
"Okay… okay." Frank slapped lather on his face, annoyed that he'd forgotten to shave before his shower had softened his whiskers. "So, it's old home week. Where you going to sleep her… I mean, two bedrooms. Bryan goes on the living room couch, or what?"
Jennifer giggled happily, not put down by the grouchiness. "One look at you and she'll beg to share the wealth. Honestly, Frank, I'd think you'd show more self control, after last night."
"Hmmmmh… we make out last night? Forgot already." He strutted from the bathroom sink for the handtowel on the rack, arching to accent his elongating penis. "Think she'd like what made you quit the music career, eh? L'il Celeste's probably a manhater after fifteen old maid years."
His wife shrugged in pretend disinterest. "She'd have been able to marry a dozen times. It's just that she's having too much fun and making too much money to give up her career."
"S'pose she looks like her publicity pictures?" He whistled remembering. "Probably she's an old hag. Let's see, she'd be your age… thirty what…? Thirty-five?"
"And that makes me an old hag," pouted Jennifer, preening her pixie cut of silver platinum hair behind his shoulder. "I'm going to give her Bryan's room and he can use the den sofa."
"He'll love that," chuckled Frank, spinning suddenly to wrap his towel around his wife's waist and drag her close to his naked front. "And it's okay, kid. You know I'm just teasin'. Be nice to have your conservatory friend here."
Languorous arms circled his neck and Jennifer ground a suggestive bump against his nearly fully developed erection. "I'm happy I quit the rat race to marry, darling. She'll be jealous as an alley cat when she sees you. You know, she's never been East since we graduated. And here's her latest picture to stop your old maid talk." She waggled the snapshot Celeste had included in her letter and Frank ogled the statuesque beauty in bikini nothings. "That her concert gown? Ye Gods, Jenn! You can bet she's havin' a ball with a body like that. Those boobs didn't get that way from singin'!"
"Frank, you're awful!" Jennifer detached her arms from Frank and walked to the bathroom door. "I'm going to tell Bryan."
"Yeah, tell him to shag his butt outta bed, too. Denny wants him to do her lawn today."
"Frank, we've got to talk about our gay divorcee and her two terror daughters soon." Jennifer paused at the door and frowned.
"What's to talk?"
"I'm not happy about the way Denise looks at you, or the way the girls dress for outside. They may be neighbors, but they don't have to make it into a nudist colony. Honestly! I don't really think Bryan is happy working in their yard."
"Hah!" Frank dragged his pants on. "Baby, they're okay. I'm telling you Bryan and me are the only guys around, so maybe they like to show it off a little, goin' to their pool. But Denise Pritchard or her kids haven't designs on a soul. Relax."
"I hope you're right." Jennifer closed the door quietly, quickly forgetting her next door neighbor, eager now to tell her son about the coming of her best friend.
At the closed bedroom door, she paused, then knocked softly, knowing a two-by-four would make more sense, the way her son slept. A second of no response and she knocked more loudly. "Bryan… wake up time, dear."
With a sigh, she eased his door open, started to call again and stopped abruptly, almost pulling the door closed in her embarrassment. Her fifteen-year-old was still sound asleep, but he had wriggled from under the sheet and lay starkly naked and obviously in the middle of a happy dream. His penis, looking top heavy and threatening in its over development, soared stiff and free at his groin. One hand lay limply across his stomach and the fingers coiled loosely around the base of the impressive cock shaft.
Marveling that her son could already have so much when he had only a hint of pubic hair, Jennifer cleared her throat and called a little more stridently, determined not to leave just because her boy's arousal was showing. It was all in the family, she reasoned, even though she felt a little storm of lust to play with that trembling tower of mature manflesh. Only a groan answered her call and she caught her breath when she saw his fingers tighten slightly around the stiff barrel.
A second later, perched saucily on the edge of his bed, she stared down at his naked frame. Very much mature, she decided, studying the athletic tautness of torso muscles and the sleek trimness of his legs and arms. Carefully she slid the sheet over his nakedness, then shook him with maternal determination to force him awake.
"Huh… whuzzat?" Bryan ground a fist into his eye and slowly focused on the morning and on the figure seated beside him on the bed. "Oh… hi, Mom." He squirmed quickly to his side, sensing his condition.
"Time to wake, honey. Mrs. Pritchard expects you to come do her lawn this morning."
He groaned protest, then suddenly was wide awake. It was that day. The one of the seven days of the week when he had legitimate reason to be near his tormentors next door. Bryan couldn't decide which of the three drove him the nuttiest – Denise, as he privately called Mrs. Pritchard, or her two sexpot daughters, Sandy and Pammy.
"Okay, Mom, I'm awake," he yawned in pretended nonchalance. "Hey, you look sharp today." He stared brazenly at her open-necked shorty gown which hid little of the shapely nude under its peekaboo pastel blue.
"Thank you, dear." She leaned to kiss her son. "You're going to see someone your mother went to school with back in the dark ages. And she's going to put your old mom to shame for looks. Celeste Dantrelle is coming to visit and stay awhile."
"Hey, no stuff? Man, that's tough! She's the superstar you keep talkin' about, right? Neat, Mom!"
"Do you suppose you could let her use your room for the time she's here, Bryan? I hate to ask it, but we've no place else for her."
"No sweat! Hey, how about that? A big star in our house! Wow!"
"Hurry and dress, dear."
Jennifer felt the little shiver of excitement as she left the room, wondering why the sign of Bryan's erection, unrelenting even after he woke and saw her, should bother her so.
Bryan sauntered through the back lot gate into the high-fenced backyard of the Pritchard property. It was treat and torture to try to imagine what the two wild twins would do during his lawn trimming today. He'd heard some pretty hot tales about their mother, but Mrs. Pritchard would have a cow if she knew some of the carryings-on between her seventeen-year-olds and the neighbor boy.
He slipped into the barn-garage to get the lawnmower, relieved and disappointed when a glance at the second floor showed the shade in the girls' bedroom window still drawn.
"Hello… who's there?" called a distant muffled voice deep in the barn's recesses. He recognized it as Mrs. Pritchard's.
"Me… Bryan, ma'am. It's your lawn day." He shuffled around stalls, no longer cattle pens but catch-alls for house castoffs. "Want me to go ahead and get mowing?"
"Maybe you can help me first here… back by this darned hose line. I'm just not strong enough and it needs to be attached."
"Here… let me…" His voice trailed to zip at the sight of the mother of the mischief twins. Denise Pritchard, her brilliant auburn hair tumbling sexily across golden shoulders, was kneeling on her hands and knees, her back to Bryan. For an electrifying second he was sure she was nude! He could see her tail cleft clearly, then he saw the nearly transparent panties and bra. Fantastic sun-tanned curvaceousness… shoulders and hips and fabulous ass!
Bryan shuddered to the storm of fifteen-year-old runaway libido and knew too late he had been stupid to come to his lawn work morning at the Pritchard place in bathing trunks.
Partly for comfort in early morning summer sun, but mostly for wanting to show off a bod that his fetish for conditioning had made sleek, he had come clad in nylon blue and white striped and too small swim trunks. One stripe now stood in a bold vertical as he gaped at cock-crazing Mrs. Pritchard.
A major problem Bryan had had for the years since his adolescence began was a lightning sex response. Instant erection! Not a gradual, creeping, stretching thing like he read other guys had. Bryan's penis stormed to total hard-on as if someone had flipped the taut string of a bow and sent the arrow flying. His cock was a fierce and rigid pole against the dangerously thin trunks.
Frantic panic swept him. What would happen when Mrs. Pritchard uncoiled from her crouch and faced him with all her goodies on display under those see-through undies? Bryan, you dumb-ass! His fright at exposure doubled when he realized how dependent he'd been on a way to relieve his sex fever over the three females of 106 Coral Way. How many times he blessed this very barn garage as his escape place to relieve himself when one or the other girl, in various states of undress, had stimulated him by strolling by his mowing en route to the pool. Inside Bryan had a curious warning that gave him a fast tingle just before his penis shot to hard. Always before he'd made it to the barn garage in time and gotten it off in private.
None of the Pritchards had ever came into the barn… till now. And this was the one he thought least bothered him. Denise Pritchard had to be in her thirties, he'd decided, and while she was a beautiful woman, thirty was way over the hill, which accounted for the fact she always wore dresses. Probably to hide the wrinkies, he had suspected. Her daughters in their string bikinis were the stuff of his sex heat and from his bedroom window next door he'd masturbated at them hundreds of times as they walked outside or were careless with the bedroom or bathroom shades.
He'd suspected them of staging the forgetfulness to give him a show, but dismissed that. His room and bath faced Mrs. Pritchard's room and bath. When Sandy or Pammy were visiting in that room, he could see them, usually in undies.
It was an uncomfortable stimulus for Bryan – his girl undies excitement. He'd heard olders make cracks about perverts and their arousal over intimate garments and always squirmed. Girls in scanty panties and peekaboo bras were absolutely maddening. Lots more so than the babes who thought they were so sexy without anything underneath. A woman with barely enough cover over her goodies – even in a lingerie catalogue – sent him up a tree with excitement.
Like now! He dropped to his knees at Mrs. Pritchard's side, pretending concern but almost overcome by his discovery of the hidden beauty that had been there all the time in the grown-up lady next door.
"What can I do to help?" His voice was brittle with tension as he gawked at her torrid body profile stretching to try to make the garden hose attach to what appeared a small water wheel.
"Why… Bryan, how nice of you to offer!" Her face smiled into his and she caught his flush. "You don't mind me in this get-up, do you? The girls got it for my birthday and I just love it. It doesn't have many secrets."
"Looks neat!" choked Bryan, overwhelmed with frantic fear that his hard-on nudging against the trunks top was about to leap into view. "Lemme have that!" He reached for the pliers she held. "Man's work."
"No. Tell you what, Bryan. You go back over by the faucet there on the wall and while I twist this coupler, you turn the water pressure up… okay?"
Better than okay! "Sure, Mrs. Pritchard!" He almost ran, relieved to escape to the assigned task that would put him behind her again and able to do what he had to do… FAST!
His erection was out of his trunks and hot in his hand when he reached the wall five steps away. His back to her, he looked over his shoulder. "Tell me when," he said.
"Just give me a little bit now," cooed the flame-haired, sun-burnished sexpot, never moving from her maddening crouch.
Oh, God! To have that gorgeous female stack of wriggly body and super boobies crouched over his naked body like that! Bryan's imagination fused with his tortured libido and he took the chance. Holding the faucet with one hand and his prick with the other, he spun around and stood spreadlegged and brazen, masturbating himself at the dazzling female five yards away.
"Eeeeehhh… we've got him!" A flash bulb flared simultaneously with the rope swirling down from the overhead loft. With gymnasts' timing, the twins somersaulted from overhead to the straw-covered floor, Sandy holding tightly to the end of her lasso and Pammy happily waving her camera.
"We got him, Mommy… lookee!"
They had done exactly that. Trapped painfully in a savage rope knot that clamped his arm in place at his hip and binding tightly at his wrist to force him to continue gripping his bared cock, Bryan was horrified captive.
Fear and shock at his exposure racked him and even as three mercilessly staring females watched their prize of war, his hard-on began to fold.
"Mommy… look! He's losing it!"
Brayn knew he would never forget the performance of Mrs. Pritchard as she straightened from her crouch, stood slowly and confidently, posing to give him full impact. Transparent panties and bra, only the hint of their edging visible, accented her ripe, wonderful lines. Hard and bold against the centers of her bra stood taut nipples.
"Look at my daughters, young man! Don't look at me!" Her manner was no longer kindly Mrs. Pritchard. She was devil witch in charge as she strolled casually to where he trembled against the wall, still trapped with his now softened penis in his hand, the rope grating warningly when he squirmed.
She was a man-crazing female. Red hair lay across her shoulders and curled along the curve of her breasts, as if planned to accent their thrust. The wild nipples stood like bullseyes in the center of the flame-scarlet tresses. But it was her pubic mound that Bryan couldn't escape staring at, in spite of his terror.
Denise Pritchard had no triangle of dark hair. Even her daughters had that, Bryan knew from glimpses of the girls in their mother's bathroom when the shade had been forgotten. Mrs. Pritchard had a flesh triangle that was a lust center. Her mons rose like a tiny hill under her panties. Her cunty cleft was a clear dark line barely visible before it disappeared with the inflaming curvature of her pubes into her crotch.
"Look at it, Bryan!" taunted Sandy beside him, frustrated that her mother had center stage. "Doesn't bother you at all, does it?"
"Whuh… what's goin' on… hey… please!" pleaded the captive sagging against the barn wall and straightening instantly to the prick of splintery wood on his ass cheeks.
"You are in a medieval dungeon." Mrs. Pritchard turned, pointing to the barrel wheel she had been attaching the hose to. "This is where we punish prisoners with a potency problem."
"Aw, hey!" No sensible word wanted to form as Bryan tried to absorb her meaning. Instead, he was feeling those violent inner vibrations that warned he was losing control. Last desperate try to make sense out of what had overthrown his private world of girl lusting for the next door neighbors. "I don't… guh… gosh… understaaannnn…"
"You don't have to!" giggled Pammy, the plight of super-body Bryan delighting her. "You know what we want to see."
"Bryan." Mrs. Pritchard was directly before him now, her luscious breasts jutting not an inch from his trembling chest. "The girls… my daughters… tell me you hurry into this barn at least four times on your mowing day."
"Six last week," corrected Sandy. "Always when we're in the yard or by the pool."
"And we know what he does when he sneaks out on his job. He peeks at us and plays with it." Pammy was ecstatic at the guilt in Bryan's face.
"With what? This?" Mrs. Pritchard backed half a step away and looked skeptically at the rubbery length curled over the edge of his trapped fist. "That? But how?"
Three pretty faces, smiling and mischief-loaded, were at waist height, kneeling before his trapped body. "You'll see how," promised Pammy. "I saw it just when it went hard under his show-off trunks last week once and it's really unbelieva – wow! WOW! Look!"
No way that Bryan's psyched penis, starved by a three-day famine from any frig play, could hold off any longer. He felt a kind of quicksand sensation deep in his testicles. Then the elastic snapped. Helpless in the snug grip of a bowline hitch behind his waist, Bryan Archer Quinby was on naked and devastating display to three intoxicatingly stacked females. Feeling like the end of the world, he gawked at their staring faces, inches from his hard-on, trapped by the rope laid across his wrist. Compelled to grip himself.
"I do not believe it!" exclaimed Denise Pritchard, inching closer than her daughters till the tip of her cute pug nose nudged the bulbous crimson crown. "You said it leaped, Pammy, but this has jet power!"
"Mommy… you promised," whispered a suddenly awed Sandy, reaching tentatively to touch the swollen cap and snatching her hand away when a maternal slap stung her fingers. "It's ours to learn from, right?"
Mrs. Pritchard looked casually up Bryan's muscular front. "You admit my girls have aroused you?" No harshness in her demand.
"Yeah… ah, hell! Can't you… untie me? Please?"
"Do I disturb you, too, Bryan?"
He fought for air and felt the warning urgency bubbling far off that warned of a growing spontaneous combustion in his groin. "Sure… you're, gee…!" He felt the friendliness behind her voice. "You're enough to drive any guy bananas."
"Go bananas, Bryan Quinby." Matter-of-factly she kneed forward. Now her boobs were at his thigh level. "Lower our sex slave," she ordered Pammy holding the rope. "He will jerk off at our breasts. He wants to."
It couldn't be happening to him, Bryan told himself as he felt the rope lower him till his legs bent and his cock brushed directly into Mrs. Pritchard's deep booby cleavage.
Something happened when she felt the contact of his aroused flesh. Her fingers clawed behind her shoulders to release her bra halter. Rich and jutting, the bared globes leaped for freedom.
"First demonstration, girls." She wormed closer and now her boobs framed his helpless phallus, its red cap actually nudging into the warm breast valley. "The male loves this feeling. You can make a vagina sensation with your breasts. Aren't they lovely, Bryan?" Her hand darted to both girls' bikini halters, spilling the cover from boobs as excited as her own.
"Do it, Bryan," demanded a breathless Pammy, unlike her twin sister never having seen or touched a boy in her fourteen years. It was a promise they'd made to Mommy, who had in turn, five years earlier, made the promise to them she would lead them into womanhood when they were fifteen. "Show me how a boy does himself." Pammy's eyes sparkled in expectation.
"Loosen the rope so he can move his arm," ordered Mrs. Pritchard, her head swimming to the delight of educating her two made-for-loving daughters. "Now… Bryan! Show us."
In mixed anger and lust he stared directly into the three faces, then down their curvaceous fronts at six equally staring nipples. His focus centered on Mrs. Pritchard's and the way her cleavage held his cock so naturally. Go with their game, his dazed mind urged. "So you gotta make 'em tight for me?" he croaked.
Denise Pritchard clutched her middle as the laughter bubbled. "He wants you to squeeze my breasts together over his penis while he does it. You want to feel what a pretty pussy grabs like, Bryan?"
"Sorta." He gasped the admission. "Golly, I got to!"
His fist tightened white-knuckled on his prick and he began to stroke, feeling the sweet warm clasp of the pressed-together breasts. Wild sight. Each girl tenderly gripped one of Mrs. Pritchard's ripe boobs, forcing them snugly against his cock. He'd had wild dreams about the three of them, but never this wild.
The build-up was slow coming and he knew it was a mixture of shock and the lack of traction for his feet barely touching the floor boards. The imprisoning rope was unnoticed pain on his upper arms. He would have stayed right where he was without the rope. Sudden arrogance took him as he saw the entranced stares watching him drive his cock into Mrs. Pritchard's breast cleft.
"Yahhh!" he growled, ripping his turbulent cock into view and brandishing it before three startled faces. "You want to see a man do it, do you? Well, stay right there… I dare you! You'll see!"
"See what?" Contempt dripped in Sandy's question and she leaned closer.
"This… and this!" Bryan flailed his hard-on in impetuous swipes across her cheeks, then pumped feverishly, directly into their faces.
"Look… look at the eye wink! That horrible red head jumps in and out of his fist!" shrieked Pammy.
"And something else jumps," squealed Mrs. Pritchard, sensitive to his climax nearing and seeing orgasm paralysis stiffening his frame. "Watch out!"
The seizure of his orgasm snatched all reason from Bryan. Before him three gorgeous girls with golden glorious bodies were on display. Tumbling red hair, boobs bouncing with excitement, and pink, almost transparent nipples reaching for him from each girl, forced a cry with his ejaculation. "You want to see it jump?" he shrilled hysterically. "It'll jump all over your tits!"
Milk-white and rainshower-wild, his semen shot at the eager expressions, splashing out of control into dancing eyes and open-mouthed excitement, dripping down onto three animated torsos. The three were suddenly savagely changed as they took the warm spray of his come. It was Mrs. Pritchard who seemed most jolted by the sensation.
"Oh, how it makes you feel to be masturbated at!" Her hands massaged urgently across tenderized boobs. It was follow-the-leader as both girls caught up in their mother's spell, rubbed Bryan's glistening semen into their breasts' cleavage and across their middles.
"I can't… oh, I can't stand the feel… it's so nice…" wailed Pammy, writhing to her back before an astonished Bryan, almost in the grip of her own climax.
Somehow, some way, the girls – now even Mrs. Pritchard could only be thought of as girl – shed their panties and to his disbelieving eyes, tumbled and tangled in a luscious bundle of female flesh. No words, only panting and groaning as they spread the residue of his ejaculation on the others' bodies, then wriggled wildly in their own self-stimulation.
Uncomprehending, but captivated, Bryan watched an old patchwork quilt he hadn't noticed before twist and bunch under the interwoven legs and arms.
It was Pammy's sex center, facing directly toward him in the midst of sunshiny pink flesh, that caught his attention. The girl was possessed as she drove two, then three long, lovely fingers into herself. He gawked in fascination. Not only was it his first time to watch a female stimulate herself, it was his first close view of a girl's most personal self.
Denise Pritchard swirling out of the clouds of her own erotic self-play, saw his fixed gaze on her daughter's aunt and knew. Bryan Archer Quinby never had seen a female like this before. It was a crazy/wonderful opportunity.
"Show him, Pammy," she hissed. "Let him see your pretty love trigger."
As though hypnotized, the fingers stroked open the labial gates and exposed the nubbin of the girl's clitoris. Taut and trembling, sheathed in its darkish almond-shaped cover, the clit stood proudly. Pammy attacked it savagely with her fingers. In wild surrender to her sensations she let go, writhing and arching. Lifting her nubile figure in a crescent from the barn floor, she let Bryan watch her climax.
And then it was done. The girls lay in a breathless tangle of happy bodies, staring up at a still roped Bryan.
"You are bothered again!" Mrs. Pritchard accused, glaring meaningfully at his groin. "It's just as the girls said. You haven't any limit."
"Yeah… hey, lemme down…" he begged.
"You are to be tied a prisoner till we are through with you or till you die. Do you hear me, Bryan Quinby? You are our sex slave and you are the tool for my daughters' learning."
"Hey… look, Missus."
She waved imperiously to her daughters and on pre-arranged signal they cut him down from his suspension and dragged him to the strange appearing wheel she had been working on when he arrived.
He made no resistance, too enthralled by the feel of warm hands clutching under his arms and the delicious rub of hips and boobs against his body as they dragged him. "What's this thing?"
"This ancient water wheel, dear boy, is your sex torture rack. Strap him to it, girls." Denise pointed to the oak-planked barrel-shaped rack.
The girls dragged his naked form, still bound, still fiercely aroused, to the step-up onto the formidable Middle Ages-looking instrument of torture. Abruptly Pammy broke away to run to a wall closet.
"What are you doing?" It was obvious from Denise's question that this wasn't part of the plan.
Silence answered for long seconds while the twin busied herself, back to the others. Then she turned and walked slowly and purposefully toward her mother, wearing a long silver fox neckpiece and carrying a cat-o'-nine tails in each hand.
"Whatever…"
"Mutiny, mother. That's whatever. Your lovin' daughters have decided to take over their own education and use you and Bryan here to get the answer." Pammy tossed a thin thonged whip to Sandy.
"See, we read this neat old-fashioned sex torture bit in your hope chest, Mommy. Venus In Furs. All about how men and girls go nutty to whipping while they think about sex. So we're going to do that on you and prove something about Bryan. Get her, Sandy."
A squealing, but not too violently protesting Denise, was dragged unceremoniously over the carpeted step-up, past a boggle-eyed Bryan. Her nude wantonness looked deliciously fragile in the grasp of two determined daughters. He never had been aware before of the predatory nature of the female. Now, seeing their glittering stares at his hard-on as they brushed past him, Bryan knew he was to be center stage before long. It was frightening and alluring, at the same time.
"Mommy, it's sinful for you to be so stinking beautiful at your age!" stormed Pammy, dragging one of Denise's arms high over her head and to the side, to be held in the wrist trap of the rack.
"Sandra, you're hurting my ankle!" Denise strained furiously against her ankle and wrist snares, but obviously enjoyed her captivity.
At the side wheel control, Pammy ignored cries to be careful and cranked the ratchet to bend her mother's body to a deep arch. Spreadeagled, her sleekly tanned arms and legs wide stretched and torso convexed, Denise's already outspoken breasts were now an explosive display, leaping from her chest as though trying to separate from her body. Low on her tummy her vee mound was an urgent hillock of wanting.
From his crouch against the steps, Bryan felt the heady delirium of the sensuality. The girls, high heeled and nude, except for the fur neckpieces that reached nearly to the floor, now circled their prisoner warily. The tables were turned and the unexpected had taken command.
Splaaatt!
The deviling sting of the cat o' nine tails laid impudently across Denise's bared front, forcing a reflex to its nerve-tingling slap. Just enough bite to the thin strands to evoke a sizzling erotic response deep inside Denise's hyper-sexed frame.
"Girls! Please… you must know what you're…"
"We do," crowded a triumphant Pammy laying on stroke after stroke of the love whip. "We've seen you through the tiny peep hole we made into your room. You love it from your men. Do girls turn you on, too?"
"Ahhhh… oh, do it! Harder!" whimpered Denise, her body a cacophony of sex chaos, the gorgeous muscles that knit her trapped torso together straining against the whips. "Some one please, anyone… love me while I die!"
It was the need in her mother's voice that tore Sandy's will to punish her more. With a little cry of desperation, she flung herself past Bryan on the steps and fell across Denise's sleek legs. "I'll protect you against that old whip!" she screamed, burrowing eagerly into the valley between the sleekly molded thighs and kissing frantically along the inner muscle till she came to where the magic was.
"Ohhh, Pammy… you're right… Pammy, she's sweet as honey."
"Traitor!" shrilled Sandy's twin, strutting in intriguing display of nudity in witch heat. Pammy's red hair was in flaming disarray, breasts high borne, thrusting through the silver-gray fur piece, body proud as she pranced to accent impudent buttocks and gorgeous legs. "I shall punish you both, then!"
Pammy circled the embracing pair, whip flailing but only intensifying Sandy's passion at Denise's pussy center. Arriving at the steps where a naked and feverishly aroused Bryan crouched watching, Pammy sprawled in nude voluptuosity across his bound form, grinding warm curves against his trembling frame as she whipped at the two above them.
"You better get ready, big cock!" she hissed in his ear. "You're next!"
"Hey… geez, lemme outta this!" howled Bryan, panicked by the desire driving his thoughts and his awareness of his naivete in lovemaking. Pammy's lush female wonders seemed to envelope him as she wriggled and squirmed across his taut torso while striking at the others. In one frenzied twist she had him driven back against the steps, his cock caught between her thighs so close to her crotch he could feel the heat. He barely extricated before his orgasm build-up began.
"Those crazies!" screeched Pammy. "They're both coming from whip whoopee!"
It wasn't from the whip nearly as much as Sandy's busy lips on Denise's cunty cleft. Her tongue spearing through the palpitating quim, stirred the tumid clit and the climax that stormed Denise swept Sandy simultaneously. No neophyte to lesby play, Sandy knew the way to prolong girl-to-girl orgasm. Nights with her twin, as they lay planning their someday love life, had taught her the play ways with another female.
And now it was quiet on the rack, except for the sobbing happiness of Denise who never had had such intimacy from either of her daughters till now. Her superb body, perspiring lightly from her passion, no longer fought the wrist and ankle grips and she lay still, eyes closed, waiting.
"Bring him," she said quietly to the girl still curled at her crotch. "It's time for his torture."
"You know it!" exulted Pammy, squirming down along Bryan's side and bending to kiss impudently at the desperately inflated cock crown. "Come, Sandy, 'nuff play with Mommy's pussy. Let's see if Bryan has any better self-control than you did."
"Pamela! Where did you learn that word? Undo me this instant and put Bryan down!"
"Ohhh h, no, Mommy. We'll show you where Bryan goes. Mutiny, remember?"
"Dear God!" moaned a delighted Denise as the girls dragged a willing/unwilling Bryan, spread-legging him over her opened thighs and irreverently jamming his monumental erection hard against her soft labial flesh.
"Now we're going to see," Pammy danced away from the dazed Bryan, pausing to admire his position. He was still a prisoner, his hands bound behind his back. His powerfully muscled body looked both threatening and helpless, kneeling astride Denise. One move downward would drive him into her vagina, or a pelvic thrust upward by the outspread victim beneath would lock them in coitus.
"Help!" Denise was outwardly determined not to yield, but inwardly her body burned for Bryan's impaling. "However did you learn…"
"Peeking through our peephole." Sandy, enamored of the taste of Denise, crept across the curve of the wheel rack and flung herself across her mother's upper body, twisting to turn her own front outward as she heard Pammy slash at Bryan's muscular back with the whip.
"Whip him – not us!" she cried warningly when the thin thongs whistled too close to her breasts and splat across Bryan's front.
It was a weird, wonderful first for the captive male. He felt no pain from the thongs, but a maddening tingle deep inside at each blow. And flush against his ballooning prick was the gateway to sex heaven. He had only to urge his buttocks in response to the swatting leather and he would fuck his first woman body.
Fierce and frenzied deep within was the strange want to wait. A pledge to his own mother's nosiness about his sexual maturing was needling and it wouldn't let him go. He had promised he would remain a virgin till "the girl of his dreams" came into his life. No way to pretend to his conscience that wanton, wriggly Mrs. Pritchard was that girl. If she was divorced or not, his lust frenzy for a once-married seemed illicit… a battle against something like adultery.
He was losing the battle! He could feel her cunty lips trembling and warm against his cock crown. Gawking down, he saw Denise's labia had dilated. Her pussy cleft was already spreading to welcome his cock. Cockflesh against cuntflesh – so near – so far! He fought a hopeless battle to keep it that way.
Slaaappp! The thong whizzed past his chest and he saw the love whip snip teasingly at Sandy's pert breasts.
"Don't Pammy… don't!" Her terror sounded real, but the sparkle in her eyes as she shielded her mother, told Bryan Sandy loved it. "You know it makes me come!" she shrilled.
"So, come!" Pammy doubled the assault on her sister and as she did, Sandy began to vibrate and convulse in the clear grip of orgasm. Wriggling over to her tummy to escape the torture, she burrowed into Denise's breasts moaning and groaning, and began to milk and siphon at the taut nipples.
"Omigod, yesss!" Denise, electrified by the thirsty lips, was determined it was going to be Bryan's own doing that took her in copulation. Wiggling and straining, but never losing control of her lower body, Denise gave herself over to a lip-stimulated climax. It turned Pammy loose to focus on Bryan's back.
Thwaaaccckkk!
"My gosh… please… I…"
Thwaaaaccckkk!
Body-riding shudders swept Bryan as he felt the erotic lightning of the whip. His hips felt a relentless pressure, forcing them to move uncontrollably in a rhythm, mounting with each stinging swipe. He felt the compulsion to let go and drive himself downward to escape the whip. It meant one thing…
Thwaaaaccckkk!
"Ah… ahhh! Oh, geez, gotta… I gotta!"
His phallus was suddenly inside a tight vise. Its maddened crown was already almost out of sight. He was in the middle of wide-stretched cunt lips. Denise Pritchard's!
In total disbelief that it was really happening, Bryan gawked at the onset of his first act of copulation. Only the dark protruding glans ledge was still visible at the very edge of her labial lips. Then it was gone and he was rocking… driving… urging himself deeper and deeper.
"Bryan, my God, there's so… so much of you!" Denise was a struggling wanton, welcoming the impaling manflesh, long-gone in end-over-end orgasm.
"Yeah… oh, gosh… awwwhhh!" He was a male to behold. Arms lashed behind his body, athletic frame tensed and arched astride Denise's lovely woman form, he pumped himself helplessly into the tender clutch of the vagina. Pulling quicksand muscles dragged him deeper and deeper.
The whip was discarded as Pammy tumbled to the side of the two and watched Bryan's climax nearing. Passion-driven rapture cries sprang, inarticulate and bullish, then his tanned and tortured frame stiffened as orgasm paralysis took him.
He was pumping… driving… thrusting… then done!
With a cry of ecstasy and defeat mixed and mingled, he toppled to his side almost falling over the edge of the rack.
"Bind him in my place. Hurry!" Denise was loose and the three females splayed the naked Bryan across the curve of the wheel. "Now, he's our slave! Sandy, darling, you're first… what have you always dreamed of doing with a man?"
"I know," giggled Pammy.
"Wait a minute! No one's going to do anything with our fallen hero." Denise pointed contemptuously at a shriveled penis lying limply at Bryan's groin.
"I can change that, betcha." Sandy wormed and squirmed her way across his chest and down over his middle, making sure her breasts and her vee mound ground against her intended victim as she moved. Ready, she cradled his penis in her palm.
"I've always wanted to take a man just like this and turn his penis into a big hard cock. Then drink his honey."
"Sandy loves honey," taunted Pammy. "Girls' or boys' honey… doesn't matter."
"So?" Red hair flashed defiantly as Sandy tossed her head and bent to her target.
"Ohhhh… hey!" Bryan strained frantically against the ankle and wrist band and his body arched furiously as he felt warm moist lips trap his flaccid cock flesh. She engulfed the rubbery length and now whirlpooled it in a maddening saliva bath as she munched and chewed.
"Maybe Bryan-baby likes honey, too," cooed Denise, intrigued by Sandy's oral preoccupation, fascinated to see if she liked to be played with herself.
"Try her!" hissed Pammy, twisting her sister's hips to position Sandy's cunty cleft inches from Bryan's face.
He gaped in helpless enchantment at the magic of a girl's pudendum. Never in his wildest imagination had he known how it would look close up. Gross locker room tales had made it a thing to fear. Wrong, Bryan, wrong! Sunshiny pink flesh framed the dark cleft and hid the mystery beyond. His tongue wet his lower lip, even as he felt the stirring begin in his groin to Sandy's lip love of his phallic flesh.
"Kiss her… it's sweet…" urged an awed Pammy, watching enviously as her sister gave and got what Pammy was nearly out of her mind needing.
Bryan was desire-driven automation in his response. It was as if he had no control over the need to explore inside a female sex center and his tongue speared tentatively through the vulva into the vagina threshold.
It was love at first taste. He savored sweet and slightly tart, intimate and mysterious, compelling him to lick and to tongue for more. Even as he did, he felt the erotic lightning sizzle into his groin and heard Sandy's cry of delight. He was hard and erect again, driving through her lips as she continued to siphon thirstily at his inflamed cock.
They locked in mutual suck passion and it was another strange first for Bryan. Wild for his initial experience at fellatio, he was even more driven to taste her come frenzy. Even a neophyte could tell those convulsions meant her climax was near. And while he maddened her quim with lips and tongue, his own orgasm stalled to let him drive her totally over the crest.
Throaty moans told the audience of Sandy's coming and a moist bath wet Bryan's eager tongue, spearing, stabbing feverishly as the first spasm tore Sandy's lower body. When her climax slowed, her lips were munching, maddened for the taste of male semen. Unlike Pammy, she never had violated her promise to Mommy to wait for this appointed moment. Now, yearning and passion swept her as she sucked her willing victim.
"Ah, yeah… YEAH!" His semen barrage blasted the roof of Sandy's mouth and she was female on fire. The come raced furiously and she gulped it, gagging but wanting to swallow as she continued to suck.
"He's a maniac!" exclaimed Denise when the glistening organ slid wetly from Sandy's mouth. It was still bent in an ominous half-hard curve up and away from his groin.
"He's my maniac this time." Pammy scrambled across his thighs and positioned herself.
"One thing I want promised by superman here." Denise hovered directly over Bryan and stared unblinkingly into his passion-driven face. "I want you to promise never – not ever! – to come over here for sexy seconds without my specific invitation."
"Mommmmeeee… that's cruel!"
"Bryan, do you hear?"
"Oh, look… wow…! I promise."
Denise leaned very close and kissed him tenderly on the lips. "Then will you please have intercourse with my daughter? Be very gentle. You're a big man."
Denise followed her invitation, stretching across Bryan's eager frame to help him in. His prick split Pammy's quim lips and as she took his thrust, she squealed happily in rapture agony. Her mother crouched across their captive male, insinuated herself closer and closer till she could kiss and lubricate the snug union of cock and cunt.
Fire seared his mind as Bryan took the love of two women; one tongue licking feverishly at his shaft while the other drove herself onto his penis and pulsed in savage convulsions as she took him deep into her body.
With an expertise that told Denise this boy was no first timer, Bryan pumped into her daughter's vagina. His maturely tapered, narrow-hipped frame made it hard to believe him an adolescent. Even as she watched, Denise knew her neighbor posed a major threat to her plans for her daughters. Bryan was too good too soon. His amateurish coltishness in coital thrusting was the only thing that made her think he could have been virgin when he came into their trap. But now he was going to be an object of constant want by her daughters. Even wanted by her, and that could spoil her campaign for Jess Mallory. It could even ruin Sandy and Pammy, if the word was leaked by this young Adonis that he had easy play with the girls next door.
She had to hard-nose him out of their sex lives when this morning madness was finished. Keep him hopeful, but keep him a lawnboy. Give him kicks with near misses, but keep him in suspense.
"I do not believe you, Bryan Quinby!" Denise declared when a spent Pammy rolled from her prisoner. "No man can go through a trio of females, come seven times and still be half hard!"
The girls were at his ankles and freeing the clamps that had held him through their romp. When he was released, he straightened slowly and stiffly, saying nothing as he moved to the floor of the barn and turned to face his captors. Three gorgeously stacked nudes, clustered close together in arm-locked wonder, watched and waited for him to speak.
"No more?" He looked painfully at Denise, trying to fathom the sense of that order. "You mean, only this time and never, ever again?"
"Maybe ever again, but only if I give special permission and that isn't likely."
"But, why?" He was clearly hurting at the thought that one time in paradise was only a start. "I would never say a word."
"Too much dynamite for any of us to handle, Bryan. You could be hurt… my girls could be… it's a small town."
"Come here!" He grabbed impetuously for Denise's wrist and wrestled her quickly to the impromptu mattress on the quilt. "And you!" He caught Sandy's arm and with his other hand seized Pammy, spilling the two girls in a happy, squealing tumble across their mother's willing body.
"I want something to remember." His strength and the cooperation from the girls caught by his desperation, made lining their bodies and their three cunty centers one atop the other no problem.
Cunnilingus hopscotch. Thirst wetted by the magic found earlier at Sandy's quim gates, he drove the three females to gasping, screaming climaxes.
"More… please, Bryan, more!" cried Sandy after he had tongue-whipped each through two orgasms and suddenly broke from the play.
"Don't go." Denise grabbed and missed as he slipped past them and snatched his bathing trunks from the floor. "Look at yourself! You still need it."
"I know. And it's going to get lots worse." Fully freshened and horny wild, his erection bolted at his front in outraged want. Purposefully he strutted to the barn door, determined to let the three see what they were driving from their lives. There, flinging open the two-sided-door, he calmly bent and dragged his swim trunks up his legs till they were directly under his genitals.
"So, if I'm out, I'm out!" he snorted, grabbing his stiffened cock and stroking himself suggestively. "This is how you caught me and this is what I'll go back to."
Furious as he was, Bryan was entranced by the trio of females embracing each other and staring at his masturbation. Forgotten by him in his frenzy to try to make Mrs. Pritchard retract her ultimatum, was that he was visible to a second floor window in his home next door. At that second in that window appeared an astonished face.
"Dear God! Bryan!" Jennifer Quinby, dumbstruck by a performance she never believed possible in her fifteen-year-old, pressed her fist against her lips. There before her incredulous stare, was a possessed son, facing back into the barn garage on the Pritchard grounds, obviously masturbating.
Was someone watching next door? Surely with three women around that house! In sheer terror she scanned first the downstairs, then the upstairs windows of the house. Not a soul in sight. Whatever possessed her boy, wondered a spellbound Jennifer, horrified and entranced simultaneously as a stream of silvery spray shot from the tip of his cock and splattered to the ground.
Almost matter-of-factly, he restored his modesty, stepped back inside the barn door, and a moment later reappeared with the lawnmower. He had done it, but there wasn't a guilty sign in his expression. Jennifer watched unseen behind a drape as he mowed along the hedge line.
That evening at supper table, strained and uncomfortable, she studied him covertly as he sat nonchalantly at her elbow. He talked animatedly about his chance for the first string football team in his first year of high school.
"Bryan, I would like to see you clean up your room tonight," she interrupted finally, exasperated by his cool. "You know Celeste arrives in a few days and it's a disgrace."
"Sure, Mom, glad to." His thoughts were where they had been all through the day after leaving the three temptresses. Three wonderful females had led him into manhood and set him on fire for sex. It was beautiful and it was beastly, at the same instant. Just as she paid him for the lawn work, Denise reminded him a final time, "Once is once and no more. Understood, Bryan?"
"Sure… yeah, guess so." He had left in ecstasy and in misery. Now as he headed up the stairs to clean his room, the misery deepened. All that remained was to busy himself in football and try to endure the old maid prima donna his mother tried to convince him would be fun to have around. Fun, hell! Even her name, Celeste, sounded sort of like the end of the world to a frustrated Bryan. Why couldn't they park Celeste next door and bring over Denise… or Sandy… or Pammy?
Deep in gloom that Mrs. Pritchard was completely serious in her warning to him to keep hands off further adventures next door, he dropped exhausted into his bed and promptly fell asleep.