Chapter 1
Jack, a handsome man in his late thirties, was thinking as he drove steadily along the highway. His wife, Claire, was sitting beside him and their daughter, Susan, was stretched out on the back seat, her head resting on her rolled-up coat. She appeared to be asleep. Susan was fourteen years old, with the innocent face of a child and the nubile body of a young woman.
"Not much farther," Jack said.
"Good. I'm getting stiff," his wife said.
"So am I," Jack told her, and he laughed. After a moment Claire giggled, then shot a quick, guilty look over the back of the seat.
Susan's eyes were closed, her pretty face framed by flaxen hair.
"She?s sleeping?"
"Yes."
"Why don't you sit a little closer, then?"
"Why, Jack! Whatever do you have in mind?"
"You know damn well."
"Just thinking about visiting the Claymores has got you all worked up, huh?"
"Well, it is going to be fun, don't you think?"
"Ummm. I don't know if it was such a good idea to bring Suzy along, though. I'd hate to have her find out about what we do."
"Oh, she won't find out."
"I suppose not. But she's fourteen now. She isn't really a child any longer."
"So I've noticed. She's a very sexy little girl. Takes after her mother."
Claire smiled, pleased.
"I hope the weekend goes well," she said. "As well as when the Claymores lived in the city."
"Sure it will. Why wouldn't it? Just because they decided to move to a big place in the country doesn't mean they'll have lost interest in sex, and as long as they're as interested as we are, it has to be fun."
"I wonder if Brenda Claymore knows that her mother and father swap?" Claire mused. "The last time I saw her she gave me the strangest smile. Sort of meaningful, you know. And she winked at me!"
"Oh? How old is Brenda?"
"She's about Suzy's age. A year older, I think."
"Well, who knows? Maybe old Sam Claymore is breaking her in, huh?"
"Jack! What a horrid thought! You don't really think he'd do anything with his own daughter?"
"Sam would do anything, I'd wager."
"Well, if Brenda knows anything, I certainly hope she doesn't tell Suzy."
"No doubt they'll be spending most of the weekend together, while Sam and Jessica and you and I are... errrr... occupied, eh?"
"That's all you ever think of!"
"It's all you think of, too, Claire."
"Humm. Well, yes," said Claire.
"Why don't I pull over beside the road for a little while, honey?" Jack suggested.
"Not with Suzy in the car, darling. She might wake up and catch us doing it."
"I suppose so," he said, sounding disappointed.
"I will sit close to you, though," Claire told him, in a suggestive tone. She slid across the seat and rested her head on his shoulder. Like her daughter, Claire had fine blonde hair, long and straight, and a slim, supple body. She glanced in the back seat again and then, satisfied that her daughter was sleeping, playfully blew in her husband's ear.
Jack moaned. "That just makes it worse," he growled. "And we have another hour's drive before we get there."
"Poor Jack."
"Well, hell, honey. It's no fun to have a goddamn hard-on for seventy miles."
"Would it help if I rubbed it, Jack?"
"Maybe... if you did it long enough."
"Like this?"
Jack moaned. "These are my good slacks," he whispered.
"Maybe I'd better take it out, then, huh?"
"Maybe... "
"If Suzy wakes up, she won't be able to see anything, I guess. If I cover you up fast enough... "
"She won't wake up," Jack said, hopefully.
And in the back seat Susan Marlowe opened one big blue eye and listened carefully. She didn't let her parents know that she was wide awake.
The zipper in Jack's fly made a rasping sound when Claire drew it down. When she unbuckled his belt, his slacks gaped open and his prick surged up inside his underwear. She drew the elastic out and the cock popped free. Without touching his cock, she tugged the underwear down, exposing the full length of his shaft and tucking the elastic under his swollen balls, so that all of his cock and balls were revealed. Jack kept both hands on the steering wheel and shifted about on the seat.
Claire ran her fingertips up and down his cock, lightly, teasingly. Then she folded her hand around the thick spike and began jerking it slowly up and down. The big knob expanded, flaring and darkening. She stared down, fascinated by his prick as it reacted to her caress.
"Does that make it feel better, honey?"
"Umm. Lots better."
"Want me to pump you off?"
"Christ, yes!"
Her hand massaged him lovingly. "Ohhh!" she squealed. "It looks so good! I wish we were alone in the car."
She skimmed her clenched fist up and down the throbbing cock and rubbed her thumb against the sensitive vein just below the glans. His organ was thumping and bucking under the manual stimulation. The knob bulged and the cleft gaped open, threatening to spit.
"You better use my handkerchief," Jack rasped, his voice throaty with passion. "I don't want to shoot all over my clothes... "
"It seems such a shame to waste that lovely stuff on a handkerchief," Claire whispered, her own voice as husky as his. Her tongue glided across her lower lip and her eyes narrowed with lust.
"Got any better ideas?"
"Maybe... "
"Like... what... "
"I could put it in my mouth," she whispered. "That way it wouldn't get on your slacks... "
"Want to, baby?"
"I wouldn't mind. You know I?d love to take your cock in my mouth, Jack, honey... "
Jack grunted and his cock surged, fattening to such an extent that her hand no longer spanned the breadth. He was terrifically excited and he wanted to be even more excited before it was over. His voice was heavy with lust as he asked, "Have you ever sucked Sam Claymore's cock, honey?"
Claire hesitated for a moment.
"Would you mind?" she asked.
"It would make me awful hot... " "Yes, I sucked Sam." Claire admitted.
"Ohhh! Really? Or are you just saying it to get me worked up?"
"Really, Jack... "
She pumped his cock lovingly. She had begun to pant, her full breasts thrusting against her blouse. "When?"
"The last time we... swapped... "
"Did you give him a blow job?"
"Um-hum."
"All the way?"
"Oh, yes. He came in my mouth, honey. He came so much I almost drowned. But I swallowed it all... " Jack gasped with explosive lust.
"Did Jessica ever suck you?" Claire asked.
"Yeah. She loves it."
"Is she better than I am?"
"Nobody is better than you, baby... "
"I'm glad, Jack," Claire said, and she slid down, her hip resting on the seat and her lust-contorted face hovering over his upright prick. Jack's hands trembled on the steering wheel and his breath hissed out like steam.
Claire tilted her head from side to side, as if seeking the best angle of approach. She pushed her pink tongue out and the tip fluttered against his bloated knob, poking for a moment and then beginning to lap at his heated flesh. She tongued the tip thoroughly, laving the rubbery cockhead and sweeping her tongue up and down the pulsing vein. When she'd licked up and down the shaft, she placed her lips against the tip, covering the smoking meat with kisses. Her lips parted slowly and, millimeter by millimeter, she slid her mouth down onto his thundering organ.
"Suck it, baby," he gasped.
Her lips compressed around the shaft, collaring his knob in the warmth of her mouth and she began sucking steadily on the flaring head, pulling with her cheeks and lips. Her tongue flashed back and forth against the underside of the knob and her teeth skimmed the drawn-back skin. Then she ran her mouth further down, taking his cock far back into her oral cavity, taking the tip into the entrance of her throat, while her lips slurped on the shaft. Her face began to bob up and down and she arched her tongue, forming a velvet cushion over which his pounding cock could slide.
She held his dick in one hand, at the base, but didn't move her hand, merely held him steady for the ministrations of her mouth. Her other hand cupped his bloated balls, squeezing gently. Her greedy mouth rode up and down the hot tube, sucking as she engulfed him, her cheeks drawing inward.
His cock began to dribble.
As she felt the first preliminary drops run onto her tongue, Claire went mad with lust. She gulped the slimy morsels down avidly, taste buds tingling, and her head rose and fell frantically, like a starving woman devouring some rare fruit, savoring the juices with a compulsive greed.
"Come in my mouth," she gasped, lifting her mouth from him in order to speak but leaving her lips against his cockhead, so that she was speaking directly into his seething flesh.
A heavy flow of cream gushed from his knob and Claire lapped it lovingly up, letting it run back over her tongue, then plunged her mouth onto him again. She forced her head down until she'd taken almost all of his big dick into her mouth, like a sword-swallower, the tip lodged in her throat and her lips pursed in his pubic hair.
Jack jammed his hips upward, spiking her, and his orgasm exploded like a rocket in his loins. The thick flood rushed up his prick and spurted into her mouth. Claire gulped frantically, swallowing his first wad in time to take the second geyser. She wolfed that load down and greedily accepted the third creamy deluge in her throat.
"Ooooh!" she moaned. "Good, so good... "
Jack gasped, almost losing control of the car.
Claire, looking dreamy and contented, lifted her face and smiled at her husband. Her lips glistened with the overflow of his ejaculation and she ran her tongue along them, gathering up the errant drops. Then she tilted her face back down and carefully lapped his softening cock clean, until it sparkled.
"Feel better now?" she asked.
"Ummm. Wonderful."
"I love to do that, honey. Sometimes I think I'd rather suck cock than fuck."
"Any time, baby," he said.
Claire smiled happily and snuggled up against him, feeling content with the hot cream of his loins spreading warmth through her belly.
Susan could hardly believe it, and yet there had been no room for doubt, no possible explanation, other than the truth, for what she'd just heard. She was greatly shocked. Despite her sexy body, the girl was rather naive about such things. She knew, of course, that her mother and father made love-she was, after all, proof of that fact-but it had never occurred to her they might do what she thought of as dirty things. And what could be dirtier than giving a blow job? Why, everyone knew that only whores and tramps did such things! And the other thing, what she'd heard about what they did with the Claymores! That was even worse. Yes, Susan was shocked. And yet she wasn't ready to confront her parents. She was ready to admit that her own ideas had been wrong, rather than to believe her mother and father were perverted.
Susan, although she didn't realize it, was very excited by what she'd overheard.
She was just at the point where her imagination was catching up to her body; the vulnerable and impressionable point of sexual awakening.
Oh! I wish I could have seen her do it! Susan thought her mind ablaze with excitement. Golly! She really took Daddy's dick right in her mouth, I guess. She must have! And she did it until that stuff came out, too!
I wonder what it tastes like?
She knew what it looked like. Several months before, at the beach, she'd been changing in one of the wooden bath houses and had discovered a knothole between hers and the next changing room. She'd noticed the handsome boy who'd gone in there and thought it would be amusing to peek at him while he changed into his street clothes. It wasn't really a sexual urge, merely a playful sort of naughtiness, the tingle of doing something that she shouldn't. She was really quite innocent. Then she bent down and placed her eye against the small opening in the partition and her innocence was shattered. The boy had a hard-on.
His crotch bulged against his wet bathing suit and he stared down at his belly, smiling. Beads of water gleamed on his body. He shook himself, doglike, spraying moisture. Then he felt his cock through his swim trunks, kneading and squeezing, while an idiotic smile spread across his handsome face.
Under this manipulation, his prick grew larger and larger until Susan had to suppress a gasp-the dark-purple knob came sliding up from the elastic band, pressed flat to his belly. The head throbbed. The boy giggled and fingered it. Then, with a grimace, he pushed his trunks down, revealing all of his sexual equipment. His prick swayed before him and his balls were glutted. He pumped his hips in and out, causing his dick to sway and swing, up and down.
Then, in a sudden frenzy, he took a firm hold on the shaft and began masturbating determinedly.
Susan had been shocked and startled. She told herself it was disgusting, but she was fascinated, too, and unable to tear her eye away from the spy hole. Holding her breath and squirming, she watched the boy's gyrations.
He was jerking wildly, as loose-limbed as a puppet, his whole body joining in the self-gratification. He rose up on his tiptoes, thrusting his belly forward. He switched his hips from side to side. His torso trembled and he watched his prick, then threw his head back and stared wild-eyed at the roof. He began to slobber and pant, then to stagger and snort, and suddenly a thick geyser of white cream spurted from his cock and arched across the cubicle, splattering against the wall just below the knothole.
Susan winced involuntarily, but she did not withdraw from her vantage point.
The boy spurted several more times, with the elongated ejaculation of youth, spraying like a fire hose. Then he was spent. Blushing furiously, he wiped his slimy prick on his swim trunks and began dressing. Susan didn't move away until he had put on his trousers. Then she lowered her eyes demurely and told herself he must be a very nasty and depraved boy.
But she had to admit, it had been... interesting.
She'd noticed the boy when they'd both been in the water, and she felt sure he'd noticed her in turn, and wondered if he'd got so worked up because of seeing her in her bikini. That idea, too, was interesting.
Susan had thought about that boy almost every day since that time.
She no longer remembered what he looked like, but she still recalled the details of his cock quite clearly and, remembering, she felt herself grow damp between the thighs and tingle deliriously. That, she knew, was sort of a naughty feeling, but it felt so good that she didn't really care.
It had been the most exciting experience that Susan had had to date.
But not nearly as exciting as now, feigning sleep, while her mother gave her father a blow job.
Susan hoped that they would do it again before the trip was ended.
"Did you come, too?" Jack asked.
"Well, no."
"Don't you need to?"
"It makes me awful hot. But there's nothing you can do about it right now, honey. Not with Suzy in the back seat. I'll just have to bear it."
"I can drive with one hand, you know."
"We'd have an accident, sure as hell."
Jack laughed.
"Honey, would you mind if I just rubbed myself a little?" Claire asked, moving away from her husband.
"Hell, no."
"You wouldn't feel left out of it?"
"After that beautiful blow job? No way."
"Maybe I will, then."
Jack glanced sideways. Smiling sexily, Claire drew one knee up and raised her skirt, turning toward Jack and leaning against the passenger door. She slid one hand inside her sodden panties and began to finger herself with a slow, steady movement.
"Why don't you take your panties off?" he croaked, his eyes shifting back and forth between Claire's crotch and the highway.
"Want to watch, do you?"
The question was rhetorical and Jack didn't reply. Claire hiked her ass from the seat and tugged her bikini panties down, drawing them from one foot and left them around the other ankle. Then she spread her legs wide apart and began masturbating with both hands. She used one hand to rub her swollen clitoris while pushing the fingers of her other hand in and out of her hole.
"Oh, it feels good," she sighed.
"Good as a cock?"
"Don't be silly. But good. For now."
"Ummm. Make yourself come, baby... "
"I always come," she whispered.
Claire began breathing heavily. She was pushing three fingers up her snatch and steadily rubbing her clitoris. Her body began to vibrate. Soft, moist sounds came from her crotch as her fingers pressed up the tight hole and the musky scent of pussy filled the car.
Susan heard those sounds and her nose wrinkled with the rich smell. Her own cunt was soaking wet now, and tingling furiously.
She wished she could see what her mother was doing; that she knew how to do it for herself. She rolled over quietly, facing the back of the car, and pressed her hand to her vulva. Her bloated clit poked against her fingers and she began rubbing it. Electric impulses coursed through her body, spreading outward from her cunt until she was sparking from toes to fingertips.
Susan had never masturbated before, but now she realized that it wasn't something that a girl had to learn, that the action was instinctive. She experimented, moving her hand at different speeds and stroking at different angles, until she found the most effective approach. Her fingers passed across her clit and dipped into her crack. The thrill built up quickly and powerfully.
"I'm coming," Claire gasped. "Ooooh!"
And Susan, too, began to come. She felt her pussy flare open and her crotch turned to a swamp, and the wonderful sensation sped through the nerve impulses of her body until she thought she was going to fall apart at the seams.
At last, it ebbed.
Susan smiled happily. So that was what it felt like. She pressed her legs together and brought her soaking fingers up to her face, sniffing the nectar, wondering, vaguely, if a man's cream smelled the same.
"Oh, that was nice," Claire was saying. "Made me hard all over again," Jack snorted. "Well, we'll be at the Claymores' farm soon, honey."
"Yeah!"
"Now that we've both come once, we ought to be able to bear it until we get there."
"Ummm. Barely." Claire giggled.
And Susan frowned slightly, thinking it was a terrible thing to be an innocent young virgin, without such wonderful expectations in store for her. But she was happy she'd discovered the joys of masturbation, at least. Anything else, she thought, would have to wait until she was grown-up and married. Susan didn't doubt that for a moment, and it never occurred to her she could have sex without a husband. Only whores did that.