Chapter 7
It was the day after Labor Day, and Dan Wainright had just got his mail from the gossipy old rural delivery postman. He just blew the horn of his jeep for most of his patrons, but insisted on coming all the way to the door of the white clapboard house so as to catch a look at Dan Wainright's delectable stepdaughter. There was a catalog from a Southern mail-order house, and a letter from the Atlanta book dealer. The last contained a sizeable check and Barbara's beefy stepfather chuckled with avaricious delight as he folded and pocketed it. This was the third such check he'd had, and the letter contained some specific orders. More spanking shots of Bobo, with her panties down around her knees, looking back with her face full of tears and blubbering as the strap or hairbrush landed against her juicy naked hind end. Also, a "before and after" series, showing her getting the order to undress, with her face all screwed up, and about to cry, then slowly peeling down till she was bare except for bra and panties, draping herself meekly over the back of a chair and looking back as the spanker approached with the chastisement implement in hand. And then, her panties down around her knees, "action shots" of the actual spanking and finally, Bobo rubbing her bottom energetically as she stood in the corner looking back in tearful anguish.
He'd retained a set for himself, and only last week, at Ben Gorton's cottage up in the hills, he'd shown his buddy the Sheriff several of the sets he'd taken. Of course he hadn't told old Ben about peddling them, but to his surprised delight, the lanky law officer had scratched his head and chuckled, "You got it made, Dan boy. Looks like to me you got a sweet setup with all the pussy an old cock like yours can take and then some. How's about letting your best buddy in on some of it once in a while? You know, there's a new gal at Davy's tavern. Name's Wendy. She's a flashy blonde, probably a hooker from Atlanta who found it a little too hot for ass-peddling down there. She might just make you a good housekeeper. Then you and she could bring this little motherless gal up proper-like."
"Why, now, Sheriff, I'll just have me a looksee at this broad. What's her name?"
"Wendy Matthews. Last name's probably an alias, but I haven't seen any bulletins on the bitch so far, so I'm not worried about it. And listen, if you fix me up with Bobo, I might get us both a double date with that feisty long-legged redhead Elora. You remember her, I got her a job over at old Ed Buxley's store. Only Ed told me just the other day he was mighty put out at the little bitch. Seems like she hasn't been doing her duty by him in bed, and he thinks she's swiped some of his cash out of the till, though he can't be rightly sure."
"Seems to me that a girl like that needs a good fan tailing on her butt," Dan Wainright righteously declared.
"You're right as rain, old buddy. Hey, I'd sure like to see you lay it on to Elora if you'd lemme give Bobo a licking-you know, not a real hard one, jist enough to make her ready to fuck. How's about it?"
"Let's make it for Friday night. I'll go down and meet up with this here Wendy, maybe we can work something out. Bring along some of that moonshine you confiscated from old Henry Jackson t'other day."
"You got it," Sheriff Ben Gorton chuckled and winked. "Hey, lemme take a longer look at those pictures you got there, Dan boy."
As soon as Dan Wainright sat down at the bar and saw lush blonde Wendy Matthews approach him with an appraising smile, he knew that she was exactly the kind of piece he wanted to keep house for him and be a kind of supervisor over Bobo when he wasn't around. He was figuring on making a couple of trips to Atlanta to see that book dealer, and from his first glance at Wendy, he had already sized her up as being the kind of female who would enjoy being a useful part of this suddenly very profitable side venture of his.
The Sheriff had been right about Wendy's having been a hooker. She'd been an orphan, brought up in a private orphanage till she was seventeen. The superintendent had tried to get her to sleep with him when she turned sixteen, but Wendy had stoutly refused. He'd bided his time and contrived a way to make her give or else take the consequences. Another, somewhat younger girl with whom he had been sleeping, agreed to help him score with Wendy. She had arranged to hide a visitor's wallet, which she herself had very neatly filched without the man's being the least aware of it until the next day, and hidden it in the dresser drawer in Wendy's room. When the would be foster parent had returned the next day to make an angry claim for his stolen property, the superintendent had taken him to Wendy's room after the other girl had "confessed" that she had seen Wendy steal it from the man's pocket.
Despite tearful and indignant protests to the contrary, Wendy had been declared guilty of stealing and given a righteous lecture by the lecherous old superintendent. The visitor had gone away mollified, and then the superintendent had told Wendy that she had to choose between going to the reformatory for two years, first getting a public strapping on her bare bottom before all the other kids, or else being nice to him. She'd naturally elected for the less painful choice.
Once initiated into fucking by the randy and expert fifty-two-year-old cock smith of a superintendent, Wendy had taken to bedtime pleasures the way a duck takes to water. Six months later, she had run away from the orphanage after stealing the superintendent's well-filled wallet, an act which she deemed only fair in view of his previous connivance. She'd gone to Atlanta, taken a job clerking in a dime store and become the assistant manager's mistress for another six months. He'd been fired for dipping his hand into the till in order to set Wendy up in a little apartment and get regular pussy.
After that she'd shacked up with a black jazz musician who'd been the best stud she'd ever known, and stayed with him two years until he was shot in a quarrel over his gambling debts. At this point, the striking young blonde had gone to work in a house and rapidly developed an enthusiastic following. She'd left there a few months ago because the madam had decided to retire and sell out to a rival who had enjoyed giving all her girls a regular whipping at the start of each new week to inspire them to greater efforts.
Wendy was twenty two years old, five feet six, her straw-colored blonde hair cut in helmet style to give her a more ingenuous and youthful look. Her face was heart-shaped, with a ripe full mouth which Dan Wainright had already imagined fastened around his aching prick and giving it delicious relief. She had a pair of magnificent high-perched, closely spaced cantaloupe-like titties, accentuated by her extremely slim waist from which opulent, closely set, rounded bottom-cheeks flared mouthwateringly against her tight green satin short skirt. And her enticingly rounded calves, sheathed in gun metal-gray nylons, completed the picture of an extremely appetizing bedtime partner so far as lecherous Dan Wainright was concerned.
After he'd bought her a couple of whiskey sours and told her that he was a good friend of old Ben's, Wendy began to warm to the beefy carpenter. She'd picked Portersville to hide out in just in case the angry madam sent some of her roustabouts to scour the area to find her, since she'd stolen a little of the madam's cash in order to finance her flight.
But the tavern, though it brought her an occasional after-hours customer, had begun to bore her. And when Dan Wainright began to mention money to be made helping him bring up a cute little filly whose pictures could be sold by the hundreds, Wendy decided to investigate the possibilities of going into partnership with her newest admirer.
"No reason why you can't move right in with me tonight, Wendy gal," he chuckled as he patted her rounded, dimpled knee, his glittering eyes admiring the opulent swell of her thighs against the short green satin skirt. "I'm a widower, you know, and it's mighty hard to bring up a growing, sassy young female these days. She needs to be kept in line, and there's times when a woman's hand is jist what's needed."
"I get you, Dan honey," Wendy cooed, snuggling a little closer on her bar stool, and slyly gliding her right hand over his heavy thigh and towards the crotch of his best Sunday pants.
"Whoa now, honey gal," he spluttered, getting very red in the face and glancing nervously around to make sure the bartender-owner wasn't watching. "There's nothing I'd like better than to have you go on with what you're doing, but this isn't the place. When do you get off?"
"Around midnight, Dan honey."
"Well now, I'll have me a last beer for the road and I'll be back for you when the place closes. Why don't you pack your things and come right on home with me, Wendy? You got class, and I'll treat you right."
A little before one in the morning, Dan Wainright unlocked the front door of the little white clapboard house, carried Wendy's suitcase into the living room and set it down. He locked the door behind him, and stared hungrily at his temptingly ripe new housekeeper. "You can share my room tonight, Wendy honey," he whispered hoarsely, "then tomorrow I'll fix up one of the rooms real nice for you, and you'll meet Bobo. Come on, I can't wait to have you go on doing what you started back there in the tavern."
She giggled and moved up against him, running her hands over his bottom, and suggestively grinding her loins against his already violently swollen crotch. Her lips brushed his as she murmured, "What are we waiting for, honey? I've been on my feet all night trying to make some of those hayseeds buy a single lousy drink, and I'm just dying to lie down and be comfy with a big handsome stud like you."
Once inside his bedroom, Dan Wainright could scarcely contain his exultance as he grabbed the blonde and crushed her mouth with his, his hands avidly roving over the curves of her firm, big round titties and the juicy cheeks of her squirming ass.
"I declare, Dan, you take a girl's breath fair away," Wendy teasingly whispered as she wriggled out of his embrace. "You go get ready and I'll undress in the biffy, okay?"
"Sure, honey, don't keep me waiting long," he panted. He was already fumbling at the buttons of his shirt as Wendy, putting just the tip of her tongue out between puckered, moist red lips, reached out right thumb and forefinger and gave his straining prick a delicate little pinch through his pants and shorts, then giggled and disappeared into the bathroom.
He was standing in his jockey shorts and socks, impatiently shifting from foot to foot and glancing down at the savage protuberance of his prick when the bathroom door opened and Wendy sauntered out. He let out a choking gasp of lustful ecstasy. She wore a strapless black bra and matching, skimpy panties which revealed the base of her pink-sheened buttocks, while the black tabs of a very narrow satin-elastic garter belt hooked to the tops of her sheer nylons. Pedestaled on black spike heels, she was almost as tall as he was as she moved toward him liltingly, an inviting smile on her moist red lips. Her hazel eyes were wide and limpid. One of her chief charms, not only as an orphan who had tempted the superintendent into making her sacrifice her cherry, but also as a much sought-after hooker, was her ability to portray the naive, helpless female who was putty in a strong man's hands. "Want to help me off with the rest of my things, lover?" she huskily purred as she moved undulatingly towards him.
Dan Wainright didn't wait to be asked a second time. Inserting his pudgy fingers under the waistband of Wendy's panties, he husked them down as she complaisantly stepped out of them, linking her arms around his heavy shoulders and arching her thickly fleeced dark-blonde pubis against the throbbing spear that threatened to tear through the taught, stretched shorts. "Mmmmmra," she crooned, nuzzling his jaw with her moist lips, "looks to me like you've got what a girl needs to keep her home nights, Dan honey."
"Uhhuh," he panted, too busy for conversation as his fingers squeezed and kneaded the jouncily resilient cheeks of her satiny warm bare behind.
"Don't you want to take my bra off too, darling?" she teasingly whispered as she blew into his ear.
He shuddered with lust as his fumbling fingers eased off the bra and left Wendy in garter belt, nylons and spike heels. Then he gasped again, ecstatic at his good fortune as he felt her yank down his shorts and her slim fingertips trailed tantalizingly over the stiffened, dark veined structure of his heavy, aching prick.
"You mean you haven't hitched up with another gal by this time, lover," she demanded as she stared down at his ferociously turgid manhood, cradling his balls in her palms and lightly grazing them back and forth. "I declare, honey, you're really hung. Can I give it a nice big kiss before I find out how it feels going into my poor little tight pussy?"
"You do jist whatever you've got a mind to, Wendy honey, you go right ahead," he groaned, overjoyed with his good fortune.
Wendy promptly sank down on her knees, tickling the backs of his hairy thighs with the evanescent caress of her fingertips as she rubbed first one cheek and then the other against the side of his throbbing prick. Then, staring at the enormously bulbous glans, she pursed her lips and blew several tiny gusts of warm air against the twitching lips of the meatus. Dan Wainright was almost delirious with rut. He put his hands down and stroked Wendy's silky hair, then tilted back his head, closed his eyes and groaned raucously as her soft lips began to nibble at the tip of his straining prick. Her fingers crept along the insides of his thighs, tickling his balls, grazing the scrotum and then moving lingeringly over the bulging, aching shaft, tracing the pattern of the angrily swollen veins which knotted and surged under the taut thin skin of the shaft.
"That's enough, honey," he ejaculated, cupping her face and tilting it away from his almost bursting prick. "You go on doing that and I won't have nuthin' for that hot little pussy you got. Let's fuck, before I lose it!"
"Sure, honey. Mama knows how to get her boy's juice back up again, don't you fret. I'll show you how my mouth and tongue work after I take your measurements inside of me, okay?"
She swiftly rose, rubbing the silky, raspy tendrils of her cuntal hairs against the velvety-skinned tip of his prick, and Dan Wainright very nearly lost his essences then and there. With a mischievous giggle, Wendy moved to the bed, seated herself on it, crossed her legs and held out her arms to him. His hands cupped her swelling titties, his avid mouth burying itself in the hollow of her neck and shoulder. In turn, her hands squeezed his hairy bottom as she whispered, "Hurry up, get into bed, Dan lover. You let Mama do the work, it's late and you've had a hard day."
He flung himself on his back and watched her with shining eyes and heaving chest. He was overjoyed to see that she didn't bother to turn out the light, but felinely swung herself onto her side, then onto her knees and crawled astride him. Her big full ripe breasts dangled invitingly, and he reached his hands up to squeeze and cup and knead them as she wriggled her hips and teasingly rubbed her soft, open pink cuntal lips against just the tip of his swollen, throbbing glans. Then, dipping her fingers down, she glided them from the scrotum upwards on both sides of his upright prick, stroking lightly back and forth, till he thought he would explode and imploringly groaned, "For Gawd's sake, Wendy honey, stick it inside your pussy, you're killing me!"
"You poor horny old darling you, you must fair be starved for pussy. Never mind, Mama'll make it up to you starting right now," she huskily promised. His animal vigor flattered her, and beyond that was the crafty thought of lucrative profits from the idea he had only sketchily outlined to her back in the tavern.
At last, to his vast relief and excitement. Wendy daintily gaped open her cuntal lips with left thumb and forefinger, using the right pair to grasp the knob of his bulging prick and introduce it into the softly waiting orifice. Once engaged, she leaned to him, balancing on either side of him with her palms, and with a cajoling smile on her sensually flushed face, slowly sank down inch by inch. The tight warmth of her cunt intoxicated him, and he closed his eyes and ground his teeth to hold back the bubbling torrent of jism which this first clasping of her torrid orifice evoked.
Now her haunches were on her spike heels as she impaled herself to the very hilt of his throbbing prick, and her soft hands began to fondle and cup and rub her big round titties in a narcissistic ritual that inflamed him even more. He couldn't stand it any longer, reached out and grabbed her thighs to pull her down atop him. With a gurgling little laugh, Wendy allowed herself to be thus maneuvered, and began to squirm and twist and weave and undulate to let him feel his heavy, swollen prick gouging and scraping the sides of her churning cuntal walls.
His hands squeezed her bottom, rubbed up and down her back and shoulders, moved avidly to fondle the sides of her panting breasts as they flattened against his hairy chest. Their lips met, and her tongue at once flickered between his lips, and he moaned in delirious rapture as he arched himself up to try to thrust himself into the deepest recesses of her torrid, contracting, enfolding cunt.
"Goddamn, you're gonna make the best housekeeper my little Bobo ever had," he breathed. "I'll even let you tend to her disciplinin' when she's got it coming, Wendy girl! Oh Gawd, come on, honey, I can't hold it back any longer, you fair destroy a man's prick with that hot box of yours, come on, fuck, see if you can cum along with me, honey!"
"Sure, Dan lover," Wendy huskily crooned. Slipping her hands under his squirming hairy buttocks, she began to arch and sink down, moving herself to the sporadically hastening rhythm of his frantic digs. Their mouths fused together, her tongue delving feverishly inside his parted lips, and with a bellowing groan, Dan Wainright felt himself violently burst into Wendy's humid, tightly constricting sheath.
Sleeping peacefully in the room down the hall, Barbara had no way of suspecting that her life was about to be altered in a way that even her most fanciful dreams could never have summoned up.