Chapter 2
Through the crack in the door Cindy could see in the darkness of her father's bedroom the edge of the bed and the fact that it was moving. She leaned closer, for the sounds of groaning both frightened and intrigued her. It had been a longtime since her mother had left the house, and the sound of a woman's voice was both unique and different.
She looked in and saw that her father and some woman were embracing on the bed, actually at that moment involved in the act of intercourse! A bolt of guilty electricity charged Cindy's spine as she espied her father and the strange woman involved in this act. It was both appealing to her to continue to watch, and yet somehow it repulsed her. She wanted to turn away but she could not.
The woman had dark hair and long, slender white legs. She had large breasts which became visible every now and then when Cindy's father lifted his body up to adjust his position between the woman's thighs.
"Ooooh," Cindy heard the woman moan from time to time, "ooooooh, yessssssss ...!"
How could any woman become so involved with such a vile act ... ? And with my father at that? Cindy was confused and excited, aroused by the sight of the intercourse in progress, repulsed by the fact that it was forbidden and considered it in her guilty mind to be bad.
When she leaned closer so that she could see better into the room, she saw that her father's cock was big and thick as it stormed the woman's vagina. She had a view of the actual penetration, and she could see her own father's lust-bloated testicles slapping mercilessly against the woman's upturned white buttocks. Every powerful stroke from his flipping hips sent that big ram-rod prick shaft deeper and deeper into the woman's vulnerable cunt.
"Ooooh," she cried out with pained ecstasy in her voice. "Ooooh, yes! Yes!"
Cindy's eyes were glued to the magnetic spectacle of her own father and a strange woman involved in the act of intercourse. She watched as his blood engorged male column slipped quickly in and out of the spread, pouted lips of the woman's vagina. It was such a strange notion, the idea of her own father having it on with a woman.
Naturally, Cindy knew that her father and her mother had made love from time to time—maybe even often—but still the idea just struck the teenager as odd. But she watched now with intense interest, enjoying the sight, trying to keep from admitting it, wondering what it would be like to be that woman!
"Oh, God," she hissed under her breath as she realized what she was thinking, "I must try to keep better control of my thoughts ...!" She turned away from the door, but as she did caught one last sight of her father's thick-headed blood-engorged sex instrument stroking downwards into the buttery depths of the other woman's vagina.
A moment later she was naked under the sheets of her own bed with the bedroom door closed tightly. It had been a long, busy Thursday night, but somehow she just couldn't get herself to sleep. The events in the car with Chris, the sight of her father's cock and the strange naked woman with him—all of this rolled and stormed like thunder in the young girl's brain.
Between her legs she felt a strangely warm tingle, a kind of hot chill that matched the feelings she'd been having earlier when Chris was finger-fucking her vagina. It was as if the sensations had never really ceased. Whether she liked admitting it or not, Cindy knew that her body was still tensed and ready for sex.
She let one hand drift down to the narrow space between her inner thighs and put her finger to the fleshy lips of her needy cuntal aperture. She wormed her finger into the hot clinging folds of her vagina and found out her own little bud of a clitoris. She took it between her fingers—it was easy to get a hold of, for it was still hot and wet and stiff from the profuse sexual stimulation of the evening's events—and rolled it back and forth like a little lever.
"Ooooh, Chris," she cried out softly, imagining in her mind's eye what it would have been like to have had his penis inside the clinging depths of her cuntal tunnel. "Ooooooh, yes, darling ... Yessssssss!" She pictured his hips swinging upwards in a hard-pressing, male arch, coming downwards and slamming into her pelvis with a slapping sound, the force of the move shoving his prick into her remote cuntal heat, and filling her womb with the thick blood-engorged head of his hot pulsating cock column. "Ooooooh, Jesus," she cried out, imagination being as strong as the thing itself. She pinched off her clitoris and lifted her well-rounded buttocks off the bed so as to be able to put her free hand into use under the cheeks of her ass. Now, cupping her pubis and holding her buttocks, she continued to stimulate herself while imagining what it would be like to really be fucking.
Suddenly, the image of her father's penis popped into her consciousness and she realized that she had been fantasizing having it on with her own Dad. "Oooh, God," she cried out softly, pulling her hands away from her pubis and her well-rounded buttocks. "I can't be thinking that?'
She rolled over onto her stomach and buried her head in the pillow. The thought of having intercourse with her own father both attracted her and at the same time made her feel incredibly guilty. She wanted to forget everything that had happened that night, everything that had to do with sex and start all over.
But she could not. The tingle in her pussy was ever present. It gnawed in her belly and made her want to do nothing but think about sex, and no matter how she tried to put the wicked sensations and forbidden fantasies out of her mind, she just could not.
She let her hand go back to work between her legs, fingering the folds of her young, virginal pussy, and in a moment she'd penetrated into the buttery depths of the tunnel itself, into her womb. She rolled her finger from side to side while lying on her belly, and rocked her hips up and down, working her cuntal aperture against the pleasure giving strokes of her own long middle finger.
After a moment or two of such masturbatory stimulation, the lubricating juices of her vagina boiled up and began profusely spreading from her cunt down her fingers, puddling in her palm and under her on the bed. She kept moving her body up and down, humping at her own finger, trying to get more and more of the satisfying self-abuse which was driving her mind wild with delight.
It was a few strokes later when her finger hit upon something stiff and stretched across the opening to her womb, and with one sharp pain she felt her digit go riding into the ribbon of her virginity. She removed the hymen with that single stroke, and despite the instant of pain, found the feel of pleasure which continued to haunt her cunt just too attractive to stop herself. She knew she was doing wrong, but she couldn't help herself.
A moment later she rolled over onto her back and spread her knees wide under the sheets. She fondled her breast with one hand and continued to slowly finger-fuck the moist clinging folds of her now exposed womb with her long digit. She was no longer truly virginal. True enough, no penis had impaled her cunt, but still her hymen was no longer intact. That was something.
She let her knees fall wide apart and exposed her inner thighs to the caresses of her free hand while still proceeding with the finger-fucking which she hoped would bring her aroused body the feeling of satisfaction which she intuited to be possible.
Suddenly, as if a dam were bursting and flooding from within her, she felt a paroxysm of juicy pleasure swell up inside her vagina and begin to spill out in long undulating rhythmic pulsations. She was having a different feel than what she was accustomed to. It had never been like this. This was different. She kept her finger sliding in the confines of her vagina and worked at the bud of her clitoris with one knuckle, and she felt the building sensations of the flood within grow larger and stronger with every stroke.
"Ooooh," she murmured whimperingly under her breath, a gurgle in her throat reminding her of her own voice, and she began to feel the overwhelming sensations of a first orgasm overtaking her young, teenager body.
A moment later and it was all over. She didn't know that she could have gone on ... and on ... but she did know, from the spot on her bed, from the way she'd flooded and juiced around her own fingers, that she had indeed had a cum of some sort.
What she couldn't understand, though, was why she'd been thinking of her father's penis in the process. Why did the notion of sex with her own father seem to haunt her like some wicked ghost.
She changed the linen in the dark of the bedroom and climbed naked under the new, fresh sheets. Her body felt sensationally alive, but in her mind she felt guilty and worried. Had she done something wrong? Was this the way it was supposed to be?
That was what happened that previous Thursday evening. There was no longer any way to deny that. She was a different kind of virgin now, and there was no going back on it.
The guilty thoughts about sex had been bothering Cindy for the previous four days, and that was why she'd driven out onto the bluff that night, to think about what had happened that previous Thursday. And now she had a clear perspective.