Chapter 5

It was all very well screwing Uncle John. He was nice enough. But now that she was his mistress as well as his niece, and because she needed the rest, and because it could happen again, he said, she no longer worked at the store. Which was fun for a while. Until she'd done and redone everything that needed doing around the apartment, seen all the latest movies, read The Sensuous Woman, which all the girls she knew were raving about, and was bored. Then, no matter where her thought processes began, no matter what was on her mind when she awoke in the morning, by lunchtime her thoughts were back in the cabin in the Palos Verdes Hills.

Darn! What in heck was wrong with her, anyway? Diane found herself wondering after almost a month of what Uncle John called the "good life." The fucking was good, she had to admit. But with all the idle time, though the bruises were gone from her body and the black eye healed, she had only to sit alone for a moment and the belt was lashing out inside her head. She had only to close her eyes to feel the rope at her ankle, and see Greta-the brat!-digging sharp little nails into her sex and thighs. Worse, she had only to begin to remember, to return mentally to the dingy room at the cabin, and her belly, her tiny pink cunthole, tightened as it did when she saw Uncle John's big veiny dick growing hard. It was almost as if she'd enjoyed the four-day adventure. Almost as if sex and what Tony and the others had done to her were one in the same thing.

That was crazy! she told herself, cringing at the mere thought of the horrible ordeal. It was because she was lonely, she decided. Idle because most of the girls her own age were still in school, and, except at night when she and Uncle John did every weird kinky sex thing either of them could think of, alone in the quiet apartment, with nothing to do except remember and brood. The idleness ended abruptly. It was as if Fred-the tall, good-looking boy she'd kicked in the balls on prom night when he tried to feel her virgin cunt in the hall-had waited for just the right moment to come to the door. She was so bored she'd have welcomed DeSade himself... just to have someone to talk to.

Uncle John wouldn't be home for hours, she knew, and immediately the boy stepped into the apartment Diane remembered that Fred was the only guy she knew whose cock seemed never to go down. She was suddenly glad she'd worn the tight jeans and halter instead of a dress. She could feel his gaze on her ass as she closed the door. Everyone in the neighborhood knew about what the kidnappers had done to her. As she turned from the door, breasts bobbing braless beneath the skimpy top, she was certain she detected lust envy in the boy's deepset brown eyes.

Fred studied her for a moment. "You don't look any different," he announced.

"Oh?" Diane leaned back against the door. She felt the worn denim digging into her cunt-lips, saw the boy's gaze drop from her face, to her crotch. Her pussy grew tight. "As far as I know," she said lightly, "there's only one way you can tell the difference between a girl who has and one who hasn't been screwed. And that doesn't show."

Fred blinked. Was this the girl who had almost ruptured him when he tried to cop a cheap feel a few months before, he wondered. He shifted uneasily. "I um. I guess it doesn't. Show, I mean. But did they really do all the things it said in the papers? I mean... tie you down, and...?"

It was Diane's turn to study him. It was obvious he'd come calling with sex in mind and just as obvious he was perplexed, even amazed, by her boldness. She liked the feeling of being able to unsettle a man. And she adored the thing beginning to show signs of life in his pants-leg. Slowly she moved across the living room, to the sofa. She sat. Patting the cushion beside her, she said, "If you mean did they do what you wanted to do that night at school-well, that's only part of it." She wiggled her ass into a corner, against the armrest, raised one knee and gave him an unhampered view of the puffy V atop and between her full thighs. She watched his eyes widen. "They fucked me every which-way!" she added.

Flopping beside her, apparently having decided she was for real and might even be considering giving him some, Fred grinned. "Sounds like you dug being kidnapped."

Diane cocked her head at him. "I guess I did. Some of it, anyway. I guess-well, I guess I'm sorry I didn't try it before. Sex and like that. You know? Like that night at school. In the hall. When I let you kiss me and you tried to put your hand on my... up my pussy."

"Man!" Fred inched closer. He cupped his nuts. "Do I ever remember that! I can still feel the kick."

Staring deep into his eyes, cunthole beginning to leak and make the panties and jeans uncomfortable, Diane covered his hand. The boy gulped. "Is it still sore?" she breathed. "Your swipe? Is it mad at me for being an ole meanie?"

"Holy fuckin' cow!" Fred snatched his hand away... leaving her knowing fingers, her palm, curled at the crotch of his pants. His prick shot up tall. Tentatively he touched her thigh. "Man! I never expected... I mean, I never thought you'd... well, shit! I came over thinking maybe me 'n' you could have some fun. But I never expected this! Man!"

Diane giggled. Men were all alike, she was learning. They expected a girl to be a frightened dumbhead, and were lost, dumbfounded to find one who was actually anxious to screw. She moved her hand along the stiffness in his pants-leg. She watched his eyes narrow as her fingers crept up, to the zipper at the top of his fly, and began to toy with the little brass tong.

A sudden change came over Fred. As if her willingness had triggered a need to exert himself, as if something primeval within him had been released, he fell hungrily upon her. His bruising lips covered hers and his hand, the one high on her thigh, shot up to the puffy V between her legs. The other hand shot beneath the hem of her halter. When his fingers encountered bare flesh, found her taut nipple, all signs of restraint disappeared. He forced her back, over the arm of the sofa, scrambled atop her arched body and pressed the stiffness in his pantsleg into the heated pocket at the crotch of the tight dungarees.

Diane gasped. Where a moment before she had been anxious to feel the boy's prick burrowing into her belly, she now tried to push him away. He was hurting her: bending her back over the armrest, sending flashes of fire up her bowed spine. She fought. But his weight held her pinned. It was as if she were back in the cabin, and Tony, as he'd done the first day, was pawing her titties, her cunt, about to take what he wanted.

Finally she managed to tear her lips away. "Let me... oh! Oh, you're hur-hurting meee! Let me gooo!"

"Shit! You dig being hurt. You said so yourself a little while ago. Now gimme some pussy or else!" The boy's stubby fingers undid the zipper at her crotch. His hand dove inside the denim. His fingers forced their way into the dampness where the panties lay sunk deep in her tender cuntlips.

Again Diane gasped. But now, the tingling in her pussy vying with the hurt in her spine, she struggled less to get away than to get comfortable. Shifting, raising her knees on either side of the boy, she managed to wiggle down until only her shoulders lay on the armrest. The fingers stabbing into her cunthole withdrew for a moment. She felt Fred's hands at the waistband of the jeans. She lifted her buttocks. Then the denim and nylon were gone, bunched at the top of her thighs, and the fingers were back ,.. spreading the wet lips of her vulva... taunting her clit... poking roughly into the shivery pink folds of her love nest.

"Jeez! I never seen a blonde one before." Abandoning her tits, pressing her hand tight to the ferocious thing in his pants, Fred stared in wonder at the white-blonde ringlets between Diane's alabaster thighs.

"Don't... ow! D-don't finger so hard."

"Shit!" The boy forced his fingers even deeper. "I bet they did worse to you at the cabin."

Diane squirmed. The mixture of pain and pleasure was confusing. Her pussy seemed to cry, Fuck me! Fuck me! But her mind, the revulsion she'd experienced when Tony and the others played wanton games on her body, continued to protest. Her pussy won. For although she had told the boy to stop, to be gentle, her own fingers fumbled frantically at his fly. The zipper opened. Feverishly she groped for the stiff meat that would quell the ache in her belly.

"Manomanomano-fucking man!" Fred thrusted his bloated cock into her hand.

"It... it's almost as big as Uncle John's," whispered Diane, working the loose outer jacket, whacking him off.

Fred stared hard into her eyes. Disbelief showed on his face. "You mean you'n' your uncle...?"

"Ummm." Diane squeezed the fat tip of his swipe, steered it to her swollen wedge, and gently rubbed the stiffness in her silky cunt-hair. "Ever since I came home. He... he fucked my ass the first day. And I sucked him off. And then he sucked me. And now we do ah!-" She threw her hips into the fingers digging cruelly into her sex-"now we do everything!"

Fred made an incoherent sound. The fingers not working her vulva dug deep in the tight crack of her ass, into her anus. His nails were sharp. Diane felt them scraping painfully past her sphincters. She closed her eyes, bit her lip... remembering the excited look on Greta's gamine face each time the younger girl was given an opportunity to use the little red daggers at the end of her fingers. She heard Fred say, "Let's go in the bedroom." She allowed him to help her up from the sofa. Limply she fell into his arms... dizzy with the feel of his dick pressing into the space at the top of her thighs as he kissed her.

Moaning, wanting to feel his big prick stabbing into her cunthole, Diane lay still while Fred yanked the jeans and panties from her trembling legs. Wide-eyed she watched him drop his pants and shorts. She waited. But Fred merely stood beside the bed, staring. For a moment she wondered what he was up to. Understanding suddenly dawned. She moved willingly to the edge of the mattress; lifted her ass when he raised her legs to his waist, and locked her ankles. She felt his dick poking blindly at her sex. "Let me. Oh, let me put it in," she gasped, taking hold of his hard-on and setting the glans at the wet mouth of her vulva.

"Man! You're some fucking hot cunt once you get going!" Fred's hands moved up the back of her thighs, to the plump, quivering cheeks of her ass. "Mother!" he gulped.

Hips raised, lower body suspended beyond the edge of the bed, Diane drove her nipping cunthole onto the boy's magnificent member. "Oh. Oh, fuck it into me."

Fred lunged. Gripping the halves of her ass, standing with feet wide apart between her scissored legs, he drove the entire length of his meat into her tight cunthole. His stinkfinger once again sought her anus, drilled in. Grunting, he ground his cockhair, the roots of his rod, into her vulva.

Diane whimpered and strained to draw even more cock into her belly. It was good. So good! she thought. Her cunt was ablaze with the need to feel a prick shooting. Her asshole opened and closed, breathing, sucking on the stubby dart high in her rectum. Now she wished they'd long enough to take off her halter. The garment was cumbersome-had ridden up, and now felt as if it were choking the air from her lungs. But she knew Fred was too excited to stop... to pause for the moment it would take to shed the top. She threw back her arms over her head, forced thoughts of the confining halter from her mind, and concentrated on the fat cock, the stiffness she could see only the base of, jerking like an unruly vibrator at the top of her vagina.

Slowly Fred began to fuck. Diane watched the long cylinder-now aglisten, slippery with juice from her cunt-glide out, then bore smoothly back into the depths of her swollen pussy. She felt the hot tip open the tight, inner folds... felt the folds come together as the boy pulled back for another stab. What an exquisite contraption her little cunthole was! she thought. Looking into the bright pinkness, as she had done almost every night with a mirror since returning home, was like staring into a cut in a piece of raw beef. It appeared uncomplicated enough. But once her tiny clit grew hard -as it did at the slightest provocation, the slightest touch, the slightest friction-once the lubricants began to flow and the outer lips puffed up, it became the most complex, most adorable slab of inverted raw meat in the world.

And a cock! thought Diane, churning her ass, her wet cunt, in time to the boy's quickening rhythm. There was nothing more lovely than a big dick ready to explode, a stiff swipe in search of a hole to spit into. She tightened her excited asshole on Fred's finger... remembering the first day at the cabin when Tony and Sammy had fucked her in both places at once. Now she wished for another long swipe, another pistoning joystick burrowing into the grotto between her soft buttocks where a finger could do little more than annoy.

"Oh, man! MAN!" Yanking his finger from her anus, digging his nails brutally into the tender halves of her ass, Fred shoved his prick into her to the hilt. He held-grinding hairy balls like deflated balloons against her cheeks.

"Oh God. Oh God, shoot. Shoot! Shoot! Shoooooot!" Diane reached up for him. She wanted to feel his weight upon her. She wanted to kiss him, suck his tongue... close her eyes and pretend she was sucking a cock when the cum blasted off in her belly.

Without breaking contact, Fred obliged. He dropped heavily, pressing her into the mattress, knocking the breath from her lungs. "I... I'm coming," he gasped. "Man, what a fuck. What a fucking cunt you got, Di. What a sweet little..."

Diane kissed him. She, too, was about to reach orgasm and was impatient to have his tongue deep in her mouth. Opening her lips, she sucked. Moving her legs higher on his back, almost to his shoulders, she worked her inner cunt muscles on the fiery glans expanding and contracting within her... straining to reach the place where nothing except pulsating pussies and fat throbbing joints mattered; where sticky cunt-juice and jism united, sending white-hot thrills through sweating bodies caught in the blind grip of consuming passion.

"Ah Christ! AHHHHHHHH!" Fred's teeth sank deep into her full lower lip.

Diane tasted warm blood. Tears stung her eyes. But there was another kind of warmth, another kind of stinging, flooding her sex. Moaning, making noises like a hurt animal, she tightened her legs-squeezing with all her might, digging her nails through the boy's shirt, into his back, and pumping her sopping wet cunthole onto his cock.

"Christ, that's ah! Good! Christ! Christ! Jesus fucking Mary and Joseph and Christ!" Fred groaned as the first spurt of hot cream flew from the head of his prick. His hands abandoned her ass, gripped the high neck of the halter, and yanked.

"D-don't rip i...!" Too late! Diane felt the garment give at the seam. Her titties sprang free. She felt his moist breath on her flesh, watched him draw one rigid pink nipple into his mouth and reach for her bucking behind once more. She forgot the halter. Her asshole recaptured his finger. She forgot everything except the thick semen pissing off deep in her pussy. Her clit, the sensitive core of her being, it seemed, was a tuning fork playing the notes of a sweet primeval tune on her thighs, her belly, front and rear hole. "Ow. OWWWWWWWW!" she cried. "All! All of it! Fuck it up my belly. Fuckit! Fuckit! Fuck it all into me!"

Humping, slamming his rod, his balls, his bramblebush cockhair into her dripping cunt, Fred bit down on her nipple, again drawing blood. But Diane didn't care. It was horrid of her, she knew. Shameful! Wanton! But she no longer could help herself. No longer could she resist the exquisite sensations a stiff dick triggered. She was coming... alive with the wonder of having yet another big swipe fill her vagina with goo. She held his face, his nipping teeth, to her breast, closed her eyes tight, and fucked and fucked and fucked her insatiable white-blonde pussy up off the bed.

When it was over, when the boy's dick had stopped spitting and lost some of its fullness, and Diane's legs were too weak to remain locked at his waist, they rested. They lay face to face, on their sides, petting. Diane thought back -to when she was a virgin saving her body for Mr. Right. To when her lovely little blonde wedge was a treasure she protected with the ferocity of a mother cat protecting its kittens. And now, she wondered. Was this brazen girl, this shameless body milking the last icky goo from Fred's rod, was this her? It seemed incredible that such a change could come about in such a short time. And for a moment she felt the old revulsion, the indignation, the horror of being violated she'd experienced at the cabin. What had they done to her? True, the bruises outside were healed. But within, deep in her sex, there was an unhealable scar; a hungry emptiness where, only a month before, her maidenhead, her tight little cherry, had rested serenely, content to wait.

Grinning, moving his fingers slowly up and down the deep crack of her ass, Fred said, "That was the best fucking piece ever. Man! I knew you'd be good. But I never thought you'd dig it all this much."

Diane chewed her lip. She wanted to shout, "Take your hands off me! I'm not... I... I'm a good girl!" But the words wouldn't come. The only thing coming was the tiny pink bud in her cunthole. That was coming back to life... demanding attention... crying out for the bludgeoning caress of a cock.

Fingering her asshole, dick still in her pussy and growing hard once more, Fred asked, "Is it true? What the papers said, I mean-about all three screwing you at once?"

The papers! thought Diane. The darn, stupid papers! Did they have to tell everyone? "I... I..." she faltered.

"Man!" Fred's mouth sought her neck. Noisily he sucked a hickey into the creamy flesh below her shell-like ear.

Diane began to move restlessly. Now she remembered how Tony and the others had done what they called "gang-banging," three cocks at once, slamming into her body at both ends. "They... they made me do it," she heard herself say. "F-first Tony. He... he made me get on my elbows and knees over him. I... I didn't want to. 'Oh, please!' I begged. 'PLEASE!' But it was no use. He... he had his swipe up my pussy, and was holding my ass, spreading the cheeks so I couldn't back off when Sammy came up behind. It... it was h-horrible! I felt Sammy pushing in... s-s-sticking his big dick up... up my rectum. I yelled. I fought them. But he kept humping-all the way up to my tonsils, it seemed. And it hurt. It hurt something awful because I was dry back there, and he kept fucking, fucking, fucking it into me. And then Skeet. Oh God. God!" She sobbed, remembering the feel of two hard pricks in her belly, and a third, a bobbing, nozzle-tipped pole, inching close to her face. "S-S-Skeet was on his knees at the head of the bed," she continued, voice atremble. "He... he pulled my hair when I tried to twist away. 'Not that!' I screamed. 'Oh, anything but;..!' But before I could finish, even before the words were out of my mouth, he was forcing his long, veiny dick, the tip still smelling of cunt because he'd just finished with Greta, against my lips. 'I won't. I woooooooon't!' I kept telling them. Then Greta -that brat! That horrid little bitch! She... she came and sat on the edge of the bed, and giggled, and... and..."

Fred yanked his meat from her sloppy wet love hole. Taking hold of the slick shaft, he set the glans in the tuft of soft hair at her anus. "What'd she do? Tell me!"

Moaning, Diane felt the boy's rod poking her asshole and recalled how Greta, fucking Greta! had used her fingernails. "She... she dug her... her nails into m-my breasts. 'You... you're hurting meee!' I cried. 'Stop! Oh please, stooop!' But she'd already done what she set out to do-made me open my lips so Skeet could force his big stinking cock into my face." Panting, remembering, she lifted one leg, threw it over Fred's thigh, making the crack of her ass, her tight asshole, more accessible. She felt the swollen head of his swipe slipping in. Wiggling, she inched down... down onto the glans... down the stiff shaft, working her sphincters like suction cups, drawing him in, in... into the hot, slippery walls of her anxious rectum.

They fucked quietly for a moment. Until Fred, apparently having envisioned the scene at the cabin, stopped humping and asked, "Did you like sucking his cock? I mean-after he'd fucked the other girl?"

"Nooo!"

"Well, you're gonna suck mine!" Without waiting for her to reply, the boy yanked his shit-smeared rod from her anus.

Diane was too stunned to fight. Bug-eyed she watched Fred straddle her chest and steer the filthy tip of his prick to her lips. She smelled her own shit, saw the icky brown stuff clinging to the length of his member. Her mind recoiled. But her mouth, as if her mind no longer controlled her body, willingly formed a wide O.

"That's it, babe. Man! Suck it! Suck it clean!" The boy thrusted his bloated dick into her face.

Gagging, tasting her own waste, but unable to still the burning need in her pussy, Diane sucked the awful thing into the moist warmth of her throat. She gurgled, watched his lower abdomen come closer and closer until there was nothing except wrinkled balls and a black forest of coarse cockhair outside her lips. Like the forest in the Palos Verdes Hills! she thought. And Fred was like Tony and Sammy and Skeet. They were all the same-Uncle John, the thugs, Fred. They seemed to take pleasure in making her do the most terrible things. And she, her body, her cunthole and rectum and mouth, seemed not to care what perversions she was constantly being subjected to.

Hands cupped on either side of her face, dick jerking, nearing another blastoff, Fred worked his hips rapidly forward and back. "Man! Tho... thought you said you didn't... oh, man! Good fucking manomanoman! Thought you didn't like sucking a dirty rod."

"I don't...!"

"Fuck you don't! I never seen a ah! Ah, suck it, baby. Suck! I never seen a cunt who liked it like you."

But I don't! Diane protested mentally. She despised the taste, the smell, of her asshole. And the stink, the acrid odor of sweat from his sacs, was making her nauseous. Yet she sucked. She welcomed the thrust of his swipe, drew deep on the tip with each forward lunge, and became frightened, almost hysterical, when he pulled back and the fiery, pulsing glans almost popped from her face.

"Baby. Ba-beeeeeee!" Fred slammed his meat into her.

Gasping, choking on the knob of the cock poking through the back of her skull, it seemed, Diane felt the first gob of semen spew off in her mouth. Greedily she gulped it down. Wrapping her arms tight around the boy's hips, she held him close, cockhair mashed to her face, and sucked and sucked as spurt after delicious spurt ricocheted off the roof of her mouth and slid smoothly, hot and slightly salty, down her throat and into her tense belly. It was as if the thick jism had found a way to her cunthole from the inside. For as the last drop trickled off, her pussy, the tiny pink bud protruding from the swollen outer lips, vibrated-as if touched by a cattle prod-and the electric snap of sudden orgasm raced through her body. She squealed and sucked even harder. Knees raised, legs wide apart, she gulped cum and fucked her cunt up off the bed and onto her invisible lover.

It was dusk when Diane awoke to find Fred had gone. She blinked into the hazy bars of light cutting across her nakedness from the blinds on the window beside the bed. Had she passed out, she wondered. It had happened before. At the cabin, overcome with shame because of what they'd done to her, and because her body, against her will, had complied, she'd retreated into unconsciousness half a dozen times.

Tremulously Diane sighed. Looking about the room, she wondered what would become of her. At one time, before the kidnapping, she'd wanted nothing more than to marry, settle down, and raise a family. And now? She no longer knew! She knew only that fucking was good, so good. But fucking, it seemed, always led to perversion. Everyone-Uncle John, Fred, the men and boys who stared at her when she walked down the street or went into a store- knew what Tony and the others had done to her. And no matter how it began, no matter how anxious a swipe was to burrow into her pussy, it always ended with sucking and hurting and shame.

Glancing down the length of her lovely, young body, Diane saw the goo, the hardening cum, in the little white-blonde coils of hair crowning her sex. Tears sprang to her eyes. The poor thing! she thought. What abuse it had been forced to endure! And now, because of the fire the thugs at the cabin had ignited, because of the emptiness that throbbed like a toothache when a stiff cock came near, she herself was subjecting the sweet curly wedge to violation, to shame after shame.

"What's wrong with me, anyway?" she blurted, the tears running down her flushed cheeks.

But there was no ready answer; none she knew of. Only the need. The burning demand in her cunthole. The butterflies in her belly. Even now, with Fred gone no more than an hour, she supposed, she was thinking about Uncle John and what they would do, what new kinky sex game they'd play when he came home from work. He'd kiss her, she knew. Then, even before supper was on the table, as had happened every night since she came home, his fat awesome prick would get hard, harder than steel and...!

Silently Diane wept. But her breathing grew labored, loud and ragged, as she tried to guess, tried to imagine, where Uncle John-tall, handsome Uncle John-would stick his big dick when he came in and found her naked and waiting.

John entered the apartment, expecting to find his niece in the living room. But the lights were out, the place quiet. He called. No answer! Where in hell was she, he wondered. His gaze settled on the open bedroom door. Quickly he crossed the room, stopped.

"Jesus!" he breathed as he saw her... asleep, back to the door, legs curled up to her breasts, and lovely white ass, the split dark and alluring, toward him. He couldn't get enough of the girl, it seemed. He had only to glance at her, to see her high tits straining against the tight clothes she wore, and he was hard. Now, staring at her nakedness bathed in diffused light from the window, his joint stood tall, ready to pump cum into the hot hairy hole between the soft halves of her bottom.

Silent, not wanting to wake her, he approached the bed, sat. There was something special about a sleeping nymphet, he mused. Even with Margaret, in the beginning, he recalled, he'd made it a point to awake first in the morning. And while she slept, on her side, just as Diane now was sleeping, he'd slip low on the bed, press his face close to the underside of her wide ass, and smell and lick both delectable holes until she began to squirm. Then good fucking! Lots of good fucking and sucking because Margaret had been at her best, her hottest, when she awoke in the morning.

Bending close, mouth within inches of the space at the back of Diane's creamy thighs, he drank deep of the smell of her asshole, her little pink and blonde cunt. What they were doing was wrong, he knew. Incest! An ugly word! But he no longer could help himself. The girl was too lovely, too willing. Her tight white-blonde pussy was the absolute best he'd ever had. And no matter how often he tried to convince himself that what they were doing was sinful, that fucking his niece was evil, it was like telling an alcoholic not to take the next drink.

Diane stirred as his tongue flicked up the sweet crack of her ass. John backed off... waiting for her to settle into deep slumber once more. His dick throbbed, aching to be sheathed. He stood. Gaze riveted to the girl's succulent behind, he undid his belt, his fly. He let the pants fall; pushed the shorts down his legs, stepped out of both garments and hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt. His chest felt tight. And there was a tightness in his balls-an urge- no! A demand!-for a hole to deposit what seemed to be gallons of boiling semen. Stepping out of his shoes, flinging his socks across the room, he eased his bulk onto the bed, close behind her. His rod seemed to be two feet long: jumping, unwilling to wait another moment.

"Honey," he whispered, moving his fingers down the split in her ass to the tuft of down at her anus. Finding the tiny, puckered hole, he probed. He loved every inch of the girl's perfect young body. But her bottom, the smooth, jiggly half moons of flesh-like cushions at the top of her thighs-were special. He loved most of all watching her cheeks tighten as his cock speared them open and drilled home. Now, using his fingers to spread the soft halves, he set the bloated tip of his prick at the mouth of the thing he adored.

Again Diane stirred in her sleep... this time pressing back, anus breathing, opening for penetration. John groaned. He felt her hot sphincters, like silk clamps, close tight on the head of his member. Even in sleep! he thought. The girl was always ready to fuck, always willing to take his dick wherever he decided to put it. He pressed forward... pushing in an inch at a time... wanting her to remain asleep... drunk with the delicious sensation, the dual, illicit pleasure of incest and pretended rape.

Prick a third of the way up the girl's rectum, John reached around to cup her blonde pussy. Soft! he thought, rubbing, gently massaging her mound. He heard her sigh... almost a moan. He continued to rub until her hips began an almost imperceptible dance. Was she dreaming, he wondered, getting laid in her sleep, too? And, if so, was she dreaming of him or someone else? A frown cut into John's brow. The thought of Diane fucking for someone else, even dreaming of another, made him angry. She was his now-no one else's! They were tied together by the bond of their illicit lovemaking.

He glanced down to where his cock protruded from the girl's miniature asshole. She was so small, so fragile. Yet she'd undergone every perversion imaginable at the hand of her kidnappers, and could take a dick-his ferocious pole -that had struck terror into the hearts of grown women with cunts and assholes twice the size of the nipping aperture he now burrowed in. His stinkfinger sought the indentation at the top of her cuntlips. Still rubbing, using the palm of his hand to excite her, he found and teased her hard clit. Her hips began to move faster... drawing him in... asshole sucking at the portion of cock not yet embedded.

Unable to resist a moment more, the velvet walls of the girl's rectum sending whitehot flashes down the length of his rod, John pulled back and lunged.

"Huh?" Diane's hazel eyes fluttered open. "Fred? Is that y-you?"

"It's me, honey. Your ole horny uncle."

"Oh. Uncle John. I... owwwwww! Ummmmm!"

Pulling back once more, John thrusted the last inches of dick up her plump bottom. "Ummra is right. Your asshole is better every-time. But who the fuck is Fred?"

"I... I was d-dreaming." Diane looked shyly back over her shoulder. But there was nothing shy in the increased motion of her hips, her buttocks. Now that she was awake, aware of what was happening, the gentle gyration became a wanton, insistent bump and grind. The cheeks of her ass rubbed sensuously together against his coarse cockhair.

John allowed his prick the pleasure of basking motionless in its tight burrow. The frown returned to his brow. He felt it cutting into his face as the thought of another-Fred! whomever he was-doing to Diane what he was doing cut into his wrath. Driving his fingers deep in her pussy, intending to hurt, to punish, to make her tell him what he needed to know, he forgot for a moment how good it was to fuck in and out of her asshole, and concentrated on the one word: Fred!

"Oh, don't. Don't!" Diane tried to pull away.

"If you were dreaming about someone named Fred," growled John, "then there must be a Fred. Who is he?"

Diane squirmed. "You... you're h-hurting meee. My... my oh! OWWWWWWWWW! M-myp-p-pussy!"

Relentlessly John dug his fingers, his nails, into the sensitive walls of his niece's sex. The tears in her wide frightened eyes made him more determined, more cruel. She was his! His to do with what he chose! He withdrew until the tip of his dick almost escaped, and rammed the entire length back up her quivering backside. Curling his fingers deep in her cunt, scraping the wails with his nails, he said, "If I catch you fucking for anyone else I'll..."

Diane screamed as the fingers in her pussy tore across the tender tip of her clitoris. "Oh, I won't! I w-won't do it for anyone else EVER," she cried, tears streaming down her face, spasms wracking her body. "PLEEEEEEEEEZE!"

John relented. Turning the girl onto her belly, spreading her legs wide with his knees, he began to fuck his joint rapidly in and out of her lovely behind. He held himself up on outstretched arms and watched her cheeks tremble. He watched her delectable asshole, her swollen sphincters, turn out along his dick when he pulled back, and invert when he plowed. "Move your ass," he told her. "Fuck for your ole uncle, honey. Fuck like you was fucking before."

Sobbing, Diane lifted her hips off the bed and moved her hot little asshole on his bludgeoning cock. John felt the familiar nipping begin... the nipples, as if there were a hundred tiny mouths working along the length of his pistoning rod. He reached for the reading lamp at the head of the bed, pulled the cord and flooded the room, the girl bucking beneath him, in soft yellow light. Now he could see her sweet cunt-hole. He watched it open and close with each stab of his dick in her rectum. His gaze devoured the hair-the silky blonde coils, her pussy, the hot hairy hole that drove him half out of his mind. Panting, sweat trickling down the furrow in his back, he drove his prick faster and faster, in and out, deeper and deeper in the fiery brown velvet pocket low between the girl's jouncing buttocks.

Diane yelled when the first blast of thick semen shot into her. Arching up-head high and belly and thighs cutting a trench in the mattress-she locked the plump halves of her ass on his spitting rod and wiggled and wiggled. "Oh, Uncle John," she whimpered, expanding and contracting her hot little asshole. "Don't stop. Oh, don't ever stop fucking your dick into meee!"