Chapter 2
It took him twelve hours to get to New York from Berlin. He flew a military plane as passenger, but he wished he could have gotten aboard a regular civilian flight. It would be very pleasant watching a trim, young stewardess running up and down the aisle, twitching her ass in his face and asking "him if there was anything she could do for him.
"Sure," he said in his fantasy, "let's go into the lounge and fuck. I want to ram my stiff cock into that lovely, little cunt of yours."
It amused him to think of it, but, of course, if there had been a stewardess present, he wouldn't have said that. He'd be more subtle. He'd try to get into her pants, but he wouldn't be nearly so blatant about the attempt.
Damn, he thought, this army life has made me horny as hell.
He had to wait on the east coast for two days until his orders finally arrived. He called his father's number in California, but was told by the maid that the man was not in.
"I'm his son, Tad," he explained.
"Oh, I didn't know Mr. Marshall had a son," the woman said indifferently.
Something was wrong, terribly wrong. He asked, "Is this John Marshall's home?" He even gave the address this time.
"Yes, it is."
Tad sighed. "Okay, let me speak to James or Shirley Baker, then."
"I'm sorry, sir," the maid said, "there is no one living here by that name."
"But they must be. They were servants there. They practically raised me from an infant."
The maid hesitated. "I suggest you call back later."
"All right," Tad said wearily. "No, wait. Give my father my number. Tell him to call me."
When she hung up, he added, "And go fuck yourself!" He slammed the receiver into its cradle and then grinned wryly at his childishness. It wasn't her fault, whoever she was. The maid, she said. What happened to the Bakers? he wondered. They'd always been like part of the family. Surely his father wouldn't let them go. They'd probably retired, or had an accident, or...
He waited impatiently for his father's call. He wished he had Hilda here with him to pass the time. The memory of her luscious legs wrapping around his body, her breasts rubbing his chest, her glorious German cunt enveloping his stiff cock, made his loins ache.
No call came. He called again, but there was no answer this time. In desperation to learn something of his mother's mysterious death, he went to the library to check back issues of the Los Angeles newspapers. He found nothing, not even a clue to hint that she'd died. By the time his written orders came, he was so involved in the mystery he could hardly think of anything else.
That plane that took him across the country was a commercial airliner, a 747 that had several very fuckable stewardesses. He watched their asses wiggle in the short, tight skirts, and when they bent over to talk to a passenger opposite him, he restrained the urge to put his hand on the nyloned legs and run it all the way up between the legs to the crotch which was almost visible to him.
Tad closed his eyes and tried to think of other things, other more socially acceptable thoughts. He hadn't had a woman for several days now. In Germany he'd been fucking regularly, and he'd gotten used to it. Now he was like an addict going through withdrawal.
"Dammit!" he muttered between clenched teeth. "I don't want withdrawal. I want insertion!"
"Did you say something, sir?" a cute-faced stewardess asked him.
He thought of telling her what was on his mind, then thought better of it and chickened out. He shook his head. He'd sent a telegram to his father and to Jill. He'd asked his father to pick him up at Los Angeles International, but now he wasn't sure the older man would be there. Something strange was happening, and not having an inkling of what it was rankled him.
His mother had been socially prominent, with her name mentioned almost weekly as an officer in some women's club or other. Yet apparently her death had gone unnoticed. Also, his father had left town right after she died, which was certainly peculiar. In addition, their two most trusted servants were no longer there, and strangers answered the phone, if the phone was answered at all.
He shook his head bewildered. There's probably some simple explanation for it all, he told himself. I'm just making a mystery where there isn't any.
But he failed to convince himself.
He thought of how nice it would be to see Jill again-and of how nice it would be to see her slim, naked, utterly female body and to feel it press up against him. They'd spend at least two days fucking to make up for lost time.
Yet inevitably his thoughts returned to his father. Tad had never been close to the elder Marshall, who was always running out of town on big business deals that involved interstate shipping. Frequently he was gone for weeks, and when he returned, he was in a foul mood, with a temper that could not be tampered with. Tad was glad he hadn't inherited his father's unreasoning sternness. Sure, he had a temper, but nothing like his father's, though he was just as stubborn about things. The army service had prevented the two from an argument that would surely have come to blows. John wanted his son to enter the family business, while Tad wanted to pursue a career in engineering.
They had written seldom to each other. Occasionally, Tad would send his father some little gift in an effort to make their long-distance relationship pleasanter. He even purchased a luger for the old man, knowing how much his father loved guns. It wasn't an ordinary luger, but a special one that had an ornate grip and an inscription from one high-ranking German officer to another. It was a collector's item that could be shot accurately, as well as hung up on a wall.
He hadn't sent the weapon. He wanted to present it in person, to see the old man's eyes fight up in pleasure.
Tad sighed. For all the good it would probably do, he might as well have given it to Hilda in return for the piece of delightful ass she'd given him on the eve of his departure. He could have it engraved: To Hilda, for Sucking Me Off. Or some other sentimental drivel.
The plane made good time, but all the time Tad tried to make with the stewardesses was parried neatly by them. Well, it didn't matter, for he had Jill to look forward to when he arrived. Below him, the patchwork pattern that was Los Angeles came into view, and the plane lowered its flaps and circled for a landing. A few minutes later, he was walking up the ramp into the lobby searching for the craggy face of his father.
Around him the disembarking passengers were being greeted by friends and loved ones. Tad paused to search the sea of faces, but none of them were familiar. His father had not come to the airport to meet him.
He walked down the long corridor, trying to fight off the resentment and anger that was building up inside him. He gave all sorts of excuses for the man-the telegram had gone astray, it hadn't arrived in time. More-likely, his father had gotten it and was ignoring it, using this means to punish him for arriving too late for his mother's funeral.
If he was too late. Lack of communication made that uncertain.
Tad retrieved his luggage and waited in front of the terminal for a half-hour . .He tried to get his mind off somber thoughts by looking at the legs and bouncing breasts of the girls passing by. It seemed to him that the skirts were even shorter than he'd remembered, almost showing off everything up to their crotches. When a girl sat down on a bench, he could see right up her thigh to the panties, if she wore them. One long-haired girl squatted down to pick up a fallen coin, and Tad gasped as he saw she was panty-less. She was so close to him he could almost count every hair on her cunt
Even these pleasant thoughts didn't keep him from swearing a half-hour later when no one arrived and he was sure that no one would to pick him up. He hailed a cab and sat hunched in the back seat as it drove quickly along the freeways heading for the big house he had once called home.
He hardly believed he was really back in the States until from a distance he saw the big house on the hill overlooking the ocean. Memories came flooding back, and his pulse quickened as they drew close. He glanced down at the expanse of golden sand and recalled how he and Jill had frolicked there and run into the surf, laughing, and how he'd caught up with her and held her wet body close, exulting in the way her nipples stood out in bold relief against her wet halter. They'd wrapped themselves in a blanket one afternoon, and he'd taken off her bikini and kissed her breasts and sucked her nipples and placed his mouth on her delicious cunt. After that, they'd fucked all during the afternoon, and it had been wonderful.
The cab drew to a halt "Here we are," the driver said. "That'll be thirteen dollars."
Tad nodded and fished in his wallet. He had only a five and four ones. "Damn!" he said, "could you wait here for a moment? I'll be right back."
He got out of the cab and walked up the concrete steps to the house. It looked dead, and he hoped he'd find someone at home who could let him have the cab fare. He'd shot his wad with Hilda that last night-in more ways than one-not knowing he'd be suddenly called back to the States. He got out his old house key and inserted it in the lock. It went in, but it wouldn't turn. He twisted it angrily and almost bent it
Desperately, he called out, but there was only silence. He walked around to the side of the house, yelling again.
"Hello," a female voice said, "who is it?"
He searched his memory but could not place the voice. He yelled, "Where are you?"
"By the pool," she answered.
He walked toward the fenced area in back of the house, pushed open the gate, and walked in. At least the pool and patio hadn't changed. There was still sparkling water in it, and aluminum and webbed furniture scattered about.
No, he was wrong about that. There was something different-the red-haired female in a bikini lounging in one of the chairs. He'd never seen her before. She was peering at him over her sunglasses.
He walked toward her, and with each step he became more sure she was a doll. Beautiful legs he'd love to touch, to open, to ram his cock between. Lovely pear-shaped breasts he longed to kiss and suck. His going without a woman and all the lustful thoughts he'd had during the last few days were catching up with him. He felt his cock start the hardening process and hoped it wouldn't be apparent to the girl.
The thought suddenly occurred to him that perhaps his father had sold the house to this girl.
"Is-is this where John Marshall lives?" he asked her.
"Yes," she said in a sultry voice. "Are you a friend of his?"
"You might put it that way," Tad said. "I'm his son.
"Oh, yes," she said. "I recognize you now-from pictures, of course."
"Is my father here?"
She shook her head. "Your father had to go to San Francisco on business. Welcome home, Tad. My name is Laura."
It was a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. She must have been in her early or mid-twenties at most. He tried not to, but he couldn't help but let his gaze roam over her pert breasts, her rounded belly, her just-right hips. Her legs were spread slightly, and he could see a few strands of ruddy pubic hair sprouting from under the slim bikini.
Whoever she is, he thought, I want to fuck her. I want to ram my cock up her hot little cunt.
She smiled and wet her red lips with a sensuous movement of her pink tongue.
He blushed and said, "I'm glad to meet you, Laura. I-I suppose my father didn't get my telegram."
"I suppose not," she admitted. "Is that someone honking for you out there?"
He'd been so intent upon mentally fucking the girl, he hadn't noticed the taxi driver was getting impatient.
He said, "I didn't have enough money for the cab. He's waiting. I hate to ask, but."
"Of course," she said with a smile. She reached for her purse on a nearby table. In doing so, her bikini slipped and fell from her breasts, revealing them in all their wondrous beauty. At first she didn't seem to notice. She delved into her purse and extracted a twenty-dollar bill which she handed him.
He took it but was unable to take his eyes from her naked breasts. They were pear-shaped, full and firm, with brownish nipples that seemed about to erect and beg for his mouth to cover them. He felt his cock lurch expectantly in his pants at the sight.
She caught the direction of his gaze and looked down. There was not the least bit of embarrassment about her as she pulled the bikini top Back into place. Obviously, being naked in front of a man was nothing new to her.
Maybe I will fuck her after all, Tad thought pleasantly.
"Is that enough money?" she asked.
He stared stupidly at the twenty dollars in his hand. "What? Oh, yes, sure, thanks. I'll be right back."
As he went back to pay and tip the cabbie, he wondered who the voluptuous redhead was. Perhaps she was a friend of his father who sometimes used the pool and/or kept an eye on things while the man was away on business. She was a good argument for the good neighbor policy.
When he returned to the pool and handed her the change, she said, "You must be tired from your long trip. Why don't you go upstairs and take a shower and relax."
He nodded. "I'd like that." At a sudden thought, he said, "My key didn't fit the front door."
"We lost some keys and had to change the lock," she said easily.
"We?" he asked.
She nodded, but didn't pick up the hint. She said, "We can have another made for you. Come along the back way and I'll show you inside."
She got up and preceded him across the patio. From the rear, her bikini was pulled tightly into the crotch and barely covered the soft jiggling roundness of her beautiful ass. Though the cloth was pulled away from her flesh, he couldn't see any line of demarcation where her flesh had not been suntanned-which meant she liked to sunbathe in the nude.
Td like to come along the back way and get inside, Tad thought. Td like to press my stiff cock up against your gorgeous ass, baby, and slip it between your legs and into your juicy, red-haired cunt.
She led him through the patio doors and through the house into the living room. She turned suddenly and faced him.
"I can see what you have on your mind, Tad," she said.
Her voice wasn't angry or embarrassed. She was looking down at the bulge in front of his trousers.
"Beautiful girls always affect me that way," he said.
"Am I beautiful?" she asked, pleased. He nodded. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he said, which just might have been the truth.
She moved in close to him. "You like my body, Tad?"
"It's beautiful. I love your breasts, your ass-everything I can see."
"Would you like to see more of me?" she said coyly.
"Of course."
"And what would you like to do to me, Tad?"
Was she merely teasing him, he wondered, or, did she mean business. The mere thought of having her brought the blood pounding in his temples. His hands itched to palm her naked breasts, to run along the insides of her thighs.
"I want to fuck you," he said. "I want my cock up between your legs-"
"In my cunt," she prompted.
"In your lovely cunt," he said. "I want to throw you down on the carpet right now and fuck you like you've never been fucked before."
She smiled and licked her lips. "That sounds so wonderful, Tad, but are you sure you're man enough to do it now?"
"What the hell does that mean?"
"I mean, you seem so shy-except with your eyes and your thoughts and your talk. Are you a man of action or aren't you?"
It was a challenge he couldn't refuse-one he didn't want to pass up. He reached out and pulled the girl roughly to him. He mashed her mouth with his lips and forced his tongue deep into it. His hands roamed over the small of her back and then down to the fleshy roundness of her ass, which he squeezed and massaged. He slipped a finger under the loose cloth and moved it under her ass and between her legs, delving into the hot, moist jungle of pubic hair.
As he thrust his middle finger into her cunt, Laura squealed with delight and wiggled her loins against his groin, clinging her arms around his neck, returning his kiss with passion.
"Oh, Tad," she exclaimed, "you set me on fire. Come on, fuck me, honey, do it now, right away, don't wait!"
He lowered her to the floor, stripping off her bikini along the way. Then he stood over her and removed his pants and his shorts and shoes. He was too impatient to take off his shirt and socks. He realized he must've looked like the stud in one of those old-fashioned stag movies, but he didn't care, especially when Laura with equal impatience reached up and grabbed his stiff cock and pulled him down on top of her.
Quickly she spread her legs and guided his cock into her ready cunt. She squealed again as it sank deep inside her, and she clamped her legs around his back and began rocking inside him.
"Oooooh, you feel good, honey," she said.
"So do you, baby," he told her.
All his pent-up emotion was brought to bear in each thrust of his cock into her female body. Hungrily he bent his head to lick and suck and bite her nipples, which stood erect with passion as she thrust them eagerly into his mouth. He rammed himself rhythmically into her, forcing grunts of passion from the girl's red lips.
He could feel himself coming big. He buried his face in the soft perfume of her red hair, gripped her shoulders hard and pumped in and out of her cunt with an increasingly frantic beat. His cock grew swollen. It throbbed as the walls of her cunt alternately gripped and released the length of his male flesh.
"Oh," she cried, "oh, Tad, that's beautiful. I'm coming. Keep it up. Don't stop. Fuck me, fuck me."
He had no intention of stopping. The walls could be coming down around them and he wouldn't stop. He couldn't. He was too caught up in the body and the intense loveliness of this girl who was writhing beneath him. The intensity of his sexual emotion blotted out all other thoughts. He wanted to fuck this girl now and later and tomorrow and the next day. He'd never expected to find another girl so beautiful, so passionate, so willing-yet here she was, giving herself to him willingly, eagerly, without inhibitions.
She moaned and closed her eyes. Shudders shook her from head to toe, and he knew she was having her orgasm. He followed quickly, grunting, gasping, shoving his cock as deep as it would go into her vibrating cunt, and letting loose with a series of spasms that covered them both with sweat.
He collapsed on top of her for a moment, regaining his breath. Then he pulled out and lay beside her.
"Well," she said after a moment, "was it as good as those German girls you've been used to?"
He leaned forward and kissed her still-distended nipple. "Better," he said. "This is the best welcome-home present I could have gotten."
She smiled and cradled his balls with a gentle hand. "I'm glad you liked it, dear."
"By the way," he said, "I don't even know your last name."
She gave him a strange look. "It's Marshall, of course."
He sat up. "Marshall. But that's-"
"The same as yours," she finished. She laughed and bent to kiss his cock affectionately. "You mean you honestly don't know? I'm your father's wife, Tad. Your stepmother!"