Chapter 2
Angela glanced nervously back at her house as she crossed the street towards the corner bungalow where Betsy lived, as if expecting at any moment to hear her mother angrily call her back to punish her for spying on them. The enormity of what Angela had seen, much of which she did not fully understand, was just now beginning to permeate her unsophisticated young mind. Already she was wrestling with the dilemma of whether to seek the advice of her best friend or to try to forget what she had witnessed. And if she did tell Betsy, it would be sure to find its way from her gregarious and much more knowledgeable friend to others, which would mean shameful disgrace for both her mother and the priest.
Angela had just about made up her mind to try to get an answer from Betsy without revealing the identity of the two persons whom she had seen performing an inexplicable but surely forbidden act - because, after all, Mother was married, and that meant only Daddy had the right to touch and expose her person and kiss her and do ... other things ... to her - when Angela suddenly remembered that Betsy's Aunt Hazel had gone to visit an ailing and very close friend in a nursing home in Evanston and would spend Sunday with her too. That meant Betsy would be all alone, so she wouldn't have to ring the bell. She could go around to the back and let herself in the kitchen, where Betsy spent a lot of time drinking Cokes and doing her homework on the linoleum-covered table.
Maybe if Daddy were home tonight and Mother went out, she could fish around to find out why two grown-up people would go into a bedroom and the man would spank the woman's bare bottom and then push himself up against her in that funny way Father Edmund had done to Mother. It reminded Angela, suddenly and scandalously - and her cheeks flamed at the recollection - of the time, over a year ago, when she had seen two dogs fixed together on a vacant lot and some coarse man had shouted, "Look at that dog giving it to his bitch. I wish I could give it to my broad that way!" and some people had gasped and others had laughed.
Angela took a deep breath, shook her head till her curls danced on her shoulders, then tried the knob of the kitchen door. It was open - Betsy never locked it, except at night - and she went in. She was about to call out for her chum when she suddenly heard a giggle which she recognized as Betsy's. It was coming from her friend's bedroom, which was nearer the back of the bungalow than Aunt Hazel's. Once again she opened her mouth to call out and announce her presence, when there was another giggle, followed by a hoarse male chuckle.
Angela stopped dead in her tracks, her gray-green eyes widening with surprise. Maybe it was one of Betsy's boyfriends - her chum was forever boasting about how many fellows were always asking her for dates!
The bedroom door was slightly open, she could see it from where she stood just inside the butler's pantry. Then she heard Betsy gasp out, "Oooh, that's awful nice, do it some more!"
Wonderingly, Angela tiptoed down the carpeted hall and, holding her breath, placed herself to the left of the slightly open door, since she couldn't see from the way she was coming along the hall. And then she clapped a hand over her mouth and swayed with disbelief. It was even more shocking than what she had witnessed from her closet!
Betsy lay on her left side so that she was facing in Angela's direction. Her coppery-red hair, cut helmet style, was tumbled and covered one eye. About an inch and a half shorter than Angela, Betsy's figure was considerably riper. She had two high-percher, insolently round breasts with wide brownish-coral aurolae which centered pert, well-developed nipples, plump round hips and buttocks, and ripening, almost womanly thighs, with a flawlessly smooth, satiny pale-creamy skin with rosy flecks. Her complexion was that of a true redhead. Her face was heart-shaped, her mouth was large and sensually full. Betsy's nose was Grecian with widely flaring wings, her eyes were dark-brown and seemed larger because of very short but thick lashes and thin pencilled brows.
Betsy was wearing her harlequin glasses and a tight red wool sweater which came down only to her waist - and not a stitch more. Her big firm breasts were shaped out by the sweater as if it were a second skin, and they swelled exuberantly as she giggled again and squirmed closer to the stark naked man whom Angela observed wore dark blue cotton socks and looked more naked that way than if he had had absolutely nothing on.
Betsy's left hand was between their bodies as he lay on his left side facing her, and it was slowly fondling a big red, dark-veined thing between his lean hairy legs.
One of his big hands was squeezing one of Betsy's breasts through the sweater, and the other hand was stroking Betsy between her bare legs.
As Angela leaned forward to watch, feeling that agonizingly sweet tickling between her long legs, just as she had done back in the closet, his forefinger moved up to the very thickly haired plump mound between Betsy's legs and began to tickle her.
Their mouths were fused together. Angela could hear slushing sounds. Squinting with all her might, she made out that Betsy's cheek was bulging, and so was the man's. He had closely cut dark-brown hair, almost a crew cut.
Angela's hand pressed hard against her panting, gaping mouth. It wasn't a boy from school with Betsy, it was an honest-to-goodness full-grown man. She couldn't see his face, since his back was turned to her. He had lean buttocks and they were tightening with funny little spasms, and the muscles in his thighs were jerking too.
"Mmm, oh my, Freddie honey, that's just lovely. Here, wait, lemme get your big cockie ready for my itchy little quimmy !" she heard Betsy giggle. "Roll over on your back. That's a good boy!"
With this, she squirmed to her knees, and the man obligingly turned over onto his back, spreading his legs. In the moment before the half-nude redhaired older girl bowed her head down to him, putting her soft hands on his hairy thighs, Angela nearly fainted.
For it was her own father lying there on Betsy's bed and pillowing his head on his folded arms, and that big hard red thing with a tip that looked like a spear point sticking right up there in the air and everything.
"Mmm, isn't he a great big naughty boy!" she heard Betsy squeal delightedly, saw her chum's soft fingers ticklingly glide over her father's knees and thighs till finally they were moving very slowly and tantalizingly over the gnarled, hairy, bulging sacks at the base of that terribly thick, swollen upright shaft. "Want me to lick him a little first before I suck him, Fred lover?"
"Go right ahead, baby!" Angela's father panted, exhaling a sigh of anticipation and spreading his legs even farther apart than ever.
Betsy obligingly vent way down, supporting herself by gripping the sides of Angela's father's hips, and Angela had to press her hand furiously tight over her mouth to suppress the shocked cry of disbelief when she saw what her best girlfriend was doing. Besides, the way Betsy was kneeling and crouching way down low, her bottom tilted up and there was something indecently shameful about the jutting, glossy ivory cheeks, widened so that Angela couldn't help seeing the amber-shadowy crease between the cheeks as well as the dainty crinkly rosette of Betsy's bottomhole and the tufts of dark-red hair - extremely thick for a girl Betsy's age - which framed the fleshy pink lips of her best friend's pee-place.
She saw Betsy's pert pink tongue stick out as far as it could and begin to rasp slyly over her father's testicles. His face was as red as the throbbing shaft rising up ferociously between his straddled hairy thighs, and he gasped and groaned as Betsy performed her artful ministrations.
"Ahhh - you sweet little redhaired bitch, you're talented enough to be the star of a hundred-dollar cathouse !"
"Why, Fred honey - lover," the teenager cooed, glancing provocatively up at him, "what a ducky compliment! Mmm, come to think of it, I wouldn't mind - boy, could I ever earn more dough than the skimpy allowance old Aunt Hazel dishes out to me every week!"
"Just work, don't talk, baby. I'll see that you get more than she gives you," Angela's father hoarsely chuckled with another sigh of pleasure as he closed his eyes again and reclined like a sultan in his harem awaiting the Frenching by his beautiful young red-haired Caucasian slave girl.
Angela's face was scarlet and her eyes were misty, but she was hypnotized where she stood, edging herself more to the left so that while hiding as much of herself as she could to prevent being detected, she could get a better angle of vision for this absolutely unbelievable scene.
Questions poured through her shocked mind - how was it Daddy wasn't at his advertising agency? How was it he knew Betsy, let alone well enough for the shameless creature to do such indecent, forbidden things to him? It was so mystifying that Angela was in a frantic quandry, her virgin mind already tittillated at what she had observed between her mother and Father Edmund. To whom could she turn for help and advice? How could she ever dare to be on such innocently friendly terms with Betsy after a thing like this? Oh, it was just - just awful!
Her girlfriend nodded, giggled, then bowed her head way down again and resumed her tongue-adoration of Angela's daddy's big hairy balls ... that was the only word innocent black-haired Angela could find to describe those twitching, crinkly-skinned, tight-stretched and contracting spheres at the very base of that huge red thing. She supposed that was his peepee stick. She had never before seen a male organ in full carnal erection ... for, after all, Father Edmund's priapic might had been virtually hidden from her when he had knelt with his back to her right up against her mother. Now, however, because of Daddy's lying on his back with his legs spread and shameless Betsy bowing down before him, Angela had an unimpaired view of his physical vigor.
Betsy's tongue again emerged, attacking the other testicle, sweeping up it along the hard scrotum-root, then rasping the throbbing shaft whose tight skin made the dark veins stand out like writhing snakes.
Her friend's dainty tongue furled over the smooth, taut, velvety point of Angela's daddy's bulging shaft. Angela shivered and once again felt her soft secret spot twitching and pulsating with uncontrollable sensations even more powerful than the ones she had experienced while watching Father Edmund and Mother from the closet peephole. And so once again, almost unthinkingly, while keeping one hand clamped against her mouth, she delved the other under skirt and petticoat to find the itching, tantalizingly twitching cleft of her maiden vulva and began to tickle it through the thin clinging panties. Her thighs shook as the first new hot, waves of naughty girlish onanism began to tingle through her, and she could even feel her dainty nipples stiffening with every quickened breath she took.
Betsy's tongue was going down the other side of her daddy's thing, scraping along the narrow deep groove which set off the spearpoint of the head from the big hard gnarled shaft itself, and following a descent back to his balls. Angela's daddy began to groan and squirm and arch himself up. Finally he gasped, "Get ready, baby, but I'd rather have it all the way inside your sweet tight little cunt!"
Angela repeated the word falteringly inside her mind, baffled for the moment. But the definition was immediately forthcoming, for, with a complaisant giggle and nod, her half nude red-haired girlfriend straightened, then moved forward on her bare knees as her daddy at once clenched his legs together. Angela saw her chum reach down and give Daddy's big hard thing a loving little squeeze, and, holding onto the tip like that, use her other hand to pry open her pee-hole and slowly sink down till what she was holding was lodged just inside the fleshy pink rims of her cleft!
Angela's moaning gasp was nearly audible as she observed this. Her heart was pounding wildly for fear they might have heard. But her fears were groundless. Daddy was arching himself up off the bed to press deeper into Betsy's hairy slit, and her girlfriend was still holding onto his thing - except now she had gripped it at the middle of the shaft with thumb and forefinger. Tilting back her head, her face flushed, eyes wide and sparkling, Betsy gasped out, "Ooooh, Fred, it's so good, it rubs so nice inside my pussy!"
P-pussy? C-cunt?
Was that what they called the place Angela was now frantically rubbing while her resilient buttocks quaked and jerked spasmodically under the lascivious spell of sensual wakening?
As Angela watched incredulously, she saw the half-naked redhead sink down slowly over her father until the enormous, thick shaft had entirely disappeared between Betsy's bare, pale cream legs. The redhead's lush buttocks tightened, then yawned, allowing Angela to glimpse again the mysterious shadowy groove between the palpitating cheeks. Now, her palms pressed down on the bed on either side of Angela's groaning father, Betsy supported herself, immobile for the moment, her head tilted back, her eyes humid and wide and fixed on the ceiling as her firm ripe breasts heaved erratically against the tight, molding sweater.
"Ooooooh, don't go off yet, Fred honey," she huskily begged. "It's so darn nice, I can feel it beating just like your heart right inside my pussy. Can't you?"
"Yeah - Betsy, oh you sweet, sexy, randy little bitch you, spin it out and don't make me come yet, or I'll paddle your cute bare ass!"
Angela had all she could do to stifle the horrified yet excited exclamation that rushed to her trembling lips. By now, too, her finger had dug the thin material of her moist panties deep into her virgin slit and her dainty little clitoris was throbbing and stiffening to proclaim her agitated tumescent state.
She saw her father reach up his hands and squeeze Betsy's breasts - her t-titties, Angela said the word inside her and felt dreadfully naughty - and then he panted, "Take that sweater off, honey. I want to see every bit of you bare-ass naked, Betsy baby!"
"Sure, Fred! Mmm, I love being that way with you. You know how to drive a girl up the wall," Betsy panted as she wriggled and tugged the sweater off.
"Don't you let my cock slip out of its nice warm tight little nest, or else," he warned with a lewd chuckle.
"Oooh, you scare me. Would you spank my fanny if I did, Fred honey?" the ripe-curved naked red-head squealed in mock-alarm.
"Try it and see, baby," he chuckled thickly, again reaching up to clutch the jutting rounds of her sumptuous young velvety-smooth breasts, rubbing the nipples with his thumbpads while Betsy cooed with sensual pleasure as a cat might purr at being stroked.
She wriggled lasciviously, pretending to let his bulging ramrod slip out of her quaking, tightening sheath but without actually doing so.
Angela closed her eyes, nearly fainting with the assault on her virginal senses of all these tumultuous new sights and lewd displays. She had unwittingly entered a strange, exciting but also frightening new world without sufficient advance preparation - baffled as to whom to turn to for help and advice, her mind still staggered by discovering her father naked in bed with her best friend who was only a year older than she was.
The lovely brunette could only express her emotions by speeding the frictioning rub of her forefinger ... and when the sudden violent, hot bubbling wave of pussy-passion seethed through the lips of her twitching maiden love-cleft, her only thought was to move away and press herself forward against the wall, both hands clapped over her mouth to hold back the slightest sound. Her body shook and wavered and she felt a wet, seeping moisture stickly adhere to the stuff of her panties' crotch up against the place she had just been rubbing. Tears came to her eyes as she realized she had committed yet another motal sin ... she would have too much to confess, and her father confessor was sure to set lots of awful penances for her!
"That's it, Betsy honey. Mmm, you're terrific. Now get down over me and let's fuck!" she suddenly heard her father's voice call out.
Blinking her eyes to clear their mistiness, Angela hastened to peek through the convenient opening and saw Betsy stretch out over her father while his arms locked round her shoulders and his mouth glued to hers in a long sucking, wet kiss.
It was like a movie on a three-dimensional screen, unfolding frame by frame, unrehearsed and yet powerfully gut-real. Angela swayed.
Her finger never left the stickied, pulsating nook which the tight little panties shaped out like a soft ripening fig, her other hand constantly clamped over her mouth to make sure she did not betray her presence. As each new scene, each nuance of the flesh-rutting cohesion between her father and her best girlfriend continued, she felt gradually more powerful stimulations take hold of her, making her dainty little nipples expand. The flesh of her inner thighs crawled and shivered as if cold and then hot air from a hairdryer was being sprayed against her. She felt the pulpy coral-pink lips of her feverishly tickling girl-core twitch and spasm ... and even felt, consciously for the first time in her rapidly maturing twelve years, the hardening of the dainty button of her virgin clitoris.
Halfway through this new bout of lust, her father had hoarsely ordered, "That's enough of your playing the man, you sweet little red-haired bitch. Now you just roll on your back and get ready for a good hot fuck, Betsy!"
Angela had watched, bemused and entranced, as Betsy, making a pouting little face at him, had slowly wriggled off the massive, angrily swollen, dark-reddened harpoon of her father's bulging penis. Then the redhead had, catlike, rolled onto her back, grabbed her dimpled knees and pulled them back hard and tight up against her juicy round creamy breasts, masking them as she thus gaped the pink grotto of her vulva and even distended the saucy rosette of her anus.
"Hurry," Betsy had moaned, wriggling her buttocks invitingly. "I'm so close and you had to go and make me pull off - now you just finish what you started in my pussy, Fred lover!"
For Angela, the most shattering sight of all was to watch her father kneel and grab hold of Betsy's lower thighs and, with a single driving lunge, impale her waiting, open peehole with his angrily throbbing spear, driving it in to the very hilt. Then, in a rapid series of in-and-out thrustings and drawing outs, Angela's father shouted out his ecstasy as he gushed himself inside her friend's p-pussy ... making Betsy kick her legs madly in the air and squeal shrilly as she, too, joined her mature lover in release...