Chapter 4
Eliot lay back, his mind teeming with conflict. He could not deny that physically he had experienced the most gratifying sex of his life. Never in his many years of fucking around, before and after his marriage, had he felt such immeasurable ecstasy flood his body and mind as when he had felt Tiffany's tight little cunt enclose his cock. For a moment, he felt a wave of guilt sweep over him, but the satisfaction he felt overcame the remorse he knew he would probably be plagued with the rest of his life. But hopefully, he reasoned, the episode would dwindle into the past. He certainly could not allow Tiffany to share a bath with him again; in fact, he dared not even allow her into his bed. He knew not only her aggressiveness but his own virility would inevitably result in another encounter; and if it ever became a habit, there would only be disaster ahead for both of them. His mind fled back to his early years of puberty when he and two other boys at school had literally raped a girl one afternoon when his parents were out of the house; they had brought her into his bedroom, and, giggling, they had started taking off their clothes. The girl tried to leave, and Eliot had held her while his friends removed her clothing. Then, one by one, they had mounted her. At first she struggled, but then she relaxed, obviously enjoying it, and not for the first time, either, despite the fact that she could not have been more than ten. He remembered her body, her tight little cunt and the way she wriggled, almost the same way Tiffany had moved when she had slid down on his prick, enclosing his shaft within her, so smoothly, so tightly . . . God, there was nothing better than a small, tight cunt.
He shivered, shook his head trying to dispel the memory, but the desire was still within him. He felt his prick enlarging; he was getting hard again just from thinking about it. He knew he had always been extremely virile, and could get an erection in two seconds flat. His hand slid down and gripped his rising organ, squeezing it gently, caressing it, pulling the skin back and forth and sending those delicious chills through his groin.
His mind fled back to the bathroom, and he saw once again Tiffany's gloriously smooth body, those small but beautifully rounded tits before him, and again he had the urge to close his lips around her nipples, bite softly and excite her, make her move her hips while his cock slid in between those warm, wet folds of flesh.
He felt his prick flex and jerk as his mind excited his emotions higher and higher. His hand closed more firmly, holding his shaft at the base, and he started moving his hips, driving his rod in and out of his fist, feeling the skin caress the cock end. He moved his thumb up and began massaging underneath the head, increasing the pleasure that was once more soothing his nerves, sending messages of utter delight through him. He felt the familiar ache in his balls, that rising surge of passion. He slowly closed his fingers around his shaft, holding the end, pressing harder-harder-his hips going faster and faster, then suddenly, with a soft moan, he came, sending his jism shooting out and oozing down through his fingers while his body quivered from his orgasm. "Oh, God," he whispered to himself. "It's so good, it's so good."
He lay still a moment, then reached to the box of Kleenex, taking several to mop up his crotch. Then he turned over and closed his eyes. God, but Tiffany had excited him more than anyone else. More than Patricia, whose sexual prowess he had rated as superb; which was one of the reasons he had married her. After their first night together, he knew he had finally found a woman to match his own limitless capacity for sex. But now . . .
What if Patricia ever found out? Oh, God . . . He opened his eyes and found himself sitting up in the bed, staring into the darkness his heart pounding with alarm. Suppose she did, what then? Apart from his sexuality, he knew he loved her. He couldn't let anything ever come between their relationship. She must never know.
Quickly he threw the covers back and slipped out of bed, moving through the bathroom into Tiffany's room.
"Tiffany. You asleep?"
He saw her small body in the bed, and he heard her deep breathing. "Tiffany . . . "
There was a rustle, and she turned her head and saw Eliot standing beside the bed. In a second, she was wide awake, and her first thought sent a shiver of anticipation through her; he wanted her again. He had come in to have some more sex.
"Oh, Daddy-"
He sat down on the edge of the bed and reached over, touching her cheek gently.
"Tiffany, I couldn't sleep. I wanted to talk."
"What about?"
"About what happened. I wanted you to know that-that-" For a second he searched for the right words. "Well, maybe it was fun, and we both enjoyed it, but it mustn't happen again, Tiffany. You know that, I'm sure."
Tiffany frowned. "But-but what's wrong with that? I love you, and when people love each other, they want to have sex. You said that once about Mama when you talked about it. So what's the difference if it's me, or-or Patricia-or anyone else?"
He sighed. Her logic was difficult to overcome. "Because," he said finally. "Sex is something two people have together, but not fathers and daughters. I really shouldn't have, but sometimes, Tiffany, one's desires are so strong, they sweep away the rules we live by. But that doesn't alter the fact that it's not right, and I want you to promise that you won't try to have sex with me again, and we must both forget it. Will you do that?"
She stared at him. His face was serious, and she felt a deep warmth emanating from him, the image she had always had as a child, of her father desperately concerned over a problem that affected her. Only now the problem affected him as well; she knew only too well that disaster could strike if they continued their fucking.
"Daddy, I can't say that I'll forget it. It was something too wonderful. It was the best ever . . . " Her voice trailed off as she reached for his hand and held it tightly. "I love you, Daddy. Don't tell me to try and forget something that was only part of my loving you."
"Tiffany, love does not necessarily mean sex. Many people love each other but don't sleep together. But-" He stopped, a look of consternation crossing his face. "What did you mean, it was the best ever?"
Tiffany flushed, and looked away.
"Have you done that with others? With another boy? With another man? Tell me, Tiffany."
"Of course not," she lied, trying to keep her eyes steady as she looked at him. "But I-I play with myself. It's the same thing, really. It feels almost the same, only with you it was better. It was more wonderful. It was-well, you know," she ended lamely, hoping that he would accept her statement.
Slowly he nodded. "Well, I guess we all masturbate when we start finding out about sex," he said carefully. "And there's nothing wrong in that."
"I know," she interjected quickly, seizing an opportunity to strengthen her argument. "You told me that when we first talked about sex."
"I know. I remember." His mind went back to a few years before when he had sat down and, at first awkwardly, then more easily, explained the facts of life to his daughter. He had always felt that honesty was the preferable route in sex education, despite the fact that the children's mother had always mildly reproved him for walking around naked. "It isn't right," she had said primly, more than once. "There's plenty of time later for that." And he had told her bluntly that if their children grew up without any shame connected with their genitals, that their outlook would be a healthier one; they would attach less guilt to sex, less of the legendary sinfulness that most children mature with because of erroneous old wives' tales overheard in their younger years. He would always walk unclothed to the bathroom, leaving the door open, and many times Axel or Tiffany would come in to use the John, and after their initial stares had satisfied their curiosity, they treated the matter with indifference. Yet now he pondered on the wisdom of his liberality, considering what Tiffany had done. She had literally seduced him, and he cursed his passionate nature for letting himself go, for allowing it to happen in the first place. He should have . . . yes, there were many things he should have done, but now it was too late.
"So, Daddy, don't ask me to forget it. Please." He realized she had been staring intently at him, and her voice plaintively echoed in his mind.
"You must, baby. You must. We must both try to forget it, and never, never let it happen again. You must say nothing about it to anyone. Not even to Axel, and-" He paused, then continued with sudden emphasis, "Especially not to Patricia."
She grinned. "No, especially not to her," she said. Her glance was almost lascivious, and he shuddered at the prospect of his wife discovering his actions; another woman she would accept. But his own child-never.
"Don't worry, Daddy. Nothing's going to happen."
"It had better not," he said grimly, moving back from the bed. "Or both of us will be up the creek," he added humorously, reaching out and tweaking her nose.
"Okay."
He turned and began walking back toward the bathroom. She called out, "Daddy, please don't worry. You've got enough on your mind with the concert tomorrow night, and Axel's career-" She paused, "And my career, too."
He turned, frowning. "Your career?"
"Yes," she replied innocently. "You said if I worked hard at it, I could join the group. And it needn't be that long, either. I'm good, Daddy. I really am. Even Axel said so."
"Axel was merely being kind," he said shortly. "You are not ready yet, Tiffany, and you know it. Look, we'll talk about it in the future. Not now, baby."
She scooted up in the bed, resting her shoulders against the headboard, and staring hard at him. "Axel said it was okay," she said slowly, and with careful emphasis. "He'd like me to join the group and get rid of Sally. She's pestering him, he says."
Eliot walked slowly over and sat down on the bed. "Axel said Sally was pestering him?"
She nodded. "Yes. He said at first he thought she was real groovy, but now all she wants to do is-" She giggled, "What we did in the bathroom tonight."
"Tiffany, you're making this up," Eliot said, his voice rising slightly. "Axel's hung up on Sally, and besides, she sings very well. Outstandinglyrin fact. I can't see getting rid of her, and certainly not replacing her with you at this stage. Tiffany, you're not ready. In time, maybe, yes. But not now. Be reasonable." He took a deep breath. "Besides, I suspect that you're not telling the truth."
"I'm not lying." Her voice blazed at him. "You know I don't he, Daddy."
He shook his head. "Nevertheless, you're not joining the group now, Tiffany. And I don't want you starting trouble between Axel and Sally. They work together very well. And the group's going places. I'm not going to louse it up now, especially with a singer who's not ready nor right for the group. Maybe in a few years, baby, but not now."
Tiffany sighed, and shrugged her shoulders. She looked away from him and began idly toying with the blanket.
"Well, if you don't think I'm ready, maybe Patricia does," she said softly, her voice almost evil in its innuendo. "Of course, I haven't talked to her about it, but I'm sure when I do, she'll be very interested in everything I have to say. I'm sure she would be able to do something about it. After all, you said she loves me, and if she does, she'll try to work things out so I'll be happy, don't you think so, Daddy?" Her eyes, which had been roaming across the bed, turned lazily and met his own, and she realized from his dawning look of horrible " comprehension that her message was getting through loud and clear. "And really, she shouldn't have to worry about things like that, should she? It's really between you and me, isn't it?"
Eliot turned away, breathing heavily. He could scarcely believe his ears. Not so much her words, but the cool, detached and almost heartless tone of her voice. The threat had been there, icy and sharp, without feeling. He had a sudden urge to reach out and slap her firmly across the face, but he restrained himself. God, if only he had exerted restraint earlier in the bathtub . . .
"Very well, Tiffany. I guess I'll just have to see it your way," he said resignedly. "So let's think about it, shall we? I can't do anything right now, but when we get back to California, we can arrange something. I'm sure you wouldn't want to go on tomorrow night, now would you?"
"Of course not," she conceded. "I'm not rehearsed. But as long as we work it out when we get back home, I think everything will be fine." She reached out, but he drew back. She noticed the rebuff, but raised her chin defiantly. "I'll be good, Daddy, believe me. I've always dreamed of singing with Axel. Just like I've always dreamed of loving you like I did tonight," she added. "You see, if you dream hard enough, things come true."
"Only if it's the right dream," he snapped. "Remember that, Tiffany. Good night."
He turned and stalked out, closing the door to the bathroom behind him, plunging the room into darkness. Tiffany snuggled back under the covers, and smiled to herself. Well, well, it was surprising how it had worked out, wasn't it? She had gotten what she wanted in more than one way.
Excited at the prospect of joining the group, she found it hard to sleep. She felt her senses tingling at the memory of her father's body, and that magnificent prick that she had felt. Slowly her fingers strayed down between her legs and she probed into her soft cuntfolds and felt a spasm of pleasure shoot through her loins as her fingers found her clitoris and began gently massaging it into a firm little nub once again. Suddenly she stopped, and her words came back with a chill of apprehension-she had told her father that Axel wanted her in the group, and that he was getting tired of Sally. Supposing Eliot went to Axel and talked to him about it? She had to get to Axel first, and prevent any complication.
With a shiver, she threw back the covers and reached for her robe at the foot of the bed. Then she remembered she had left it in the bathroom. Walking carefully to the bathroom door, she turned the handle silently and pulled. There was a dull glow coming from her father's bedroom, and she saw her robe lying on the floor where she had dropped it before getting into the tub. Holding her breath, she moved forward, picked it up and paused, listening intently. Her father's heavy breathing reassured her. She moved back into her room, closing the door behind her. She slipped into her robe, shivering slightly, and padded to the other door leading to the hallway.
She opened it, and walked quickly down the hall to Axel's room, opening the door quietly and slipping inside. The room was almost dark. In the far corner, she saw the bed, with Axel's body forming a dark shape underneath the blankets. She moved across, and then, impulsively, she slipped off her robe, and with almost simultaneous movements, she lifted the edge of the sheet and crawled into bed next to her brother.
He turned, grunting, and then, feeling her hand come around his body, he cleared his throat and, still half-asleep, he said hoarsely, "Tiffany, get your ass out of here."
She giggled. "Why? I'm lonesome." Her fingers strayed down between his legs and gripped his prick. She thrilled at the feel of his cock, soft but thick, in her grasp. He tired to move away from her.
"Tiffany, for chrissake, knock it off."
"Aren't you horny, Axel? I am. Come on, let's fuck."
"No!" His excited whisper shattered the stillness and she giggled again, moving closer to him. "Tiffany, I'm fucked out, and I'm tired. I gotta sleep, baby. Come on, now, get back to your room."
"It's good, Axel. I want some more of your cock. And this time I don't want you to pull out."
He scooted back further, his hands forcibly removing hers from his prick. Holding her, he glared into her eyes, shining wildly in the dim light.
"Listen," he hissed. "Suppose Dad comes in and finds us?"
She laughed softly. "He won't. He's sound asleep. I just checked. I've been waiting, Axel. Come on, let me suck your cock. I'll suck it till you come. How's that? I want to taste that stuff."
Axel found himself trembling slightly, and in his crotch the old tingle had already started and he felt his prick begin to stiffen. The pressure of her warm body and knowing she was so willing had aroused him; still, he resisted her.
"Another time, Tiff. Please."
"No. Now."
She jerked her hand free and reached once more for his prick, realizing with a triumphant thrill that he was getting an erection. "See, you're getting hard," she whispered, and before he could grab her, she had pulled the covers back and moved her head down between his legs, guiding his prick into her eager mouth. As her lips closed around it, and began sucking, he moaned softly, feeling the waves of sensation flood his crotch and send their message through his body.
Tiffany felt her own body responding, the wetness oozing down her crack, and as she moved her hips together she could feel the sensations flooding her crotch as her cuntflesh pressured her clitoris within the wetness. She forced her legs tighter together to increase her own pleasure as she licked harder and firmer around the cockshaft that was throbbing between her lips.
She let her hands stray around Axel's crotch, feeling with a thrill his pubic hair making an almost invisible carpet up to his navel, thick and coarse around his balls and the base of his cock. Almost instinctively, she let her nails trail through the hair, and heard a soft sigh escape his lips and he relaxed in the bed, pushing his hips up slightly to thrust his prick deeper into her throat.
She felt the cockhead-broad, thick-slide over her tongue, and tasted the jism that had begun to ooze out of his cockslit. She lifted her head and let the cockhead rest between her lips while her tongue flicked back and forth over the slit, trying to probe it open. Then she caressed underneath that sensitive spot she had been shown by Sally. As the tip of her tongue touched him, she felt him quiver and slowly his hands came down and touched her head, stroking her hair gently.
"Oh, Tiffany, that feels good. Suck the end. Suck it under there. That's groovy, really far out. Oh, Tiff . . . " His voice trailed off in another moan of delight as she closed her lips hard around his cock and sucked up and down quickly, enclosing his cockshaft and lowering her head until she felt his balls against her mouth and the end of his cock deep in her throat.
. "Easy, baby, you'll make me come if you keep that up."
She raised her head, giggled and stared at him in the dim light from the window.
"Don't you want to come?"
"Sure. But not yet. Make it last. It's too good."
She giggled again, and felt a perverse sense of satisfaction at being complimented at something she had only recently started doing. Maybe she was a born cocksucker, she thought, and giggled again.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing."
"Well, shut up and fuck then. You said you were horny."
"I am, Axel. Just thinking of this big cock made me horny. I want it in me again. I want you to shoot in me."
"I'm not gonna do that. You may get pregnant."
"I won't. I'll go take a hot bath."
"That doesn't stop it."
"Well, don't you worry about that. Just do it. Fuck me."
Tiffany raised up and before Axel could prevent her, she had straddled his body, her arms around his neck and her mouth on his, kissing him passionately. She pushed her tongue between his lips and felt him respond. His arms came around her back and they clung together, their tongues licking, exploring, their bodies pressing closely, and Axel felt his prick sliding between her legs, so soft, so incredibly smooth, and automatically he pushed, feeling it slide up-up-toward that tight little pussy.
In his mind he remembered having entered her cunt that afternoon, how tight she was, how smooth and hot, and how great she had made him feel with her eagerness to experience his cock, and gain her own pleasure by giving him his.
"Fuck me, Axel. Stick it in. All the way in."
She was moving her hips, trying to capture his cock in the folds of her cunt. Impatiently she moved one hand down between their bodies and he felt her fingers enclose his cockshaft and hold it, pushing the pulsating head forward. Then he gasped as he felt the hot, slick, sensuous grasp of her cunt flesh around the head and he jumped, his movement pushing his cock into her. She cried out softly and then slowly he entered her all the way until he felt her ass flat against his hips and ten thousand electric needles playing around his prick as it nestled deep within her.
"Oh, yes, yes," she breathed, holding him close as she began moving her body. "Oh, Axel, that feels so good. It's so thick and hard. Oh, fuck, fuck . . . "
Even as he found himself being slightly shocked at hearing his little sister utter such words, he found an incredible ecstasy and rising excitement at the knowledge that he was fucking her; that his prick was buried deep in her willing cunt and she was turning her hips, moving up and down and with each twist of her flesh, she was making him feel better than he had ever felt before; better than with Sally, better than jacking off. Better than anything.
There was no holding it back any longer. The feel of what was happening and the undeniable pleasures that were pouring through his being that he could not stop; even though a warning voice echoed in his mind, he lacked the strength he had shown that afternoon when he had pulled out of her. But not now. His arms enclosed her willing body and together they thrashed on the bed, which began rocking crazily under the motion.
Tiffany felt her emotions building to blinding intensity. With every thrust of his cock into her, she felt a surge of ecstasy in her loins; she felt she was floating. Her insides were churning madly and she knew she was going to have an orgasm any second. She cried out, "Oh, Axel, I'm-I'm-" and before she could finish, a flash cut through her sight and she felt her cunt contract and flood her canal with her juices as she climaxed. Her body seemed to float, suspended in space on top of his prick which held her up, impaled on its broad, throbbing magnificent point. Axel felt the added quivering within her and the warm rush of juices around his shaft, bathing the head of his cock with extra sensation. He held her tighter and his mouth found hers as he pushed his tongue into her mouth and rammed his cock deeper into her as he felt his balls tight against his cock, quivering, shaking, and that not-to-be-denied surge of delight from deep inside him as his jism began its journey, shooting through his prick and exploding from the tip of his cock into her cunt, load after load, sending him into a vortex of ecstasy. He felt he would never stop coming; on and on, more and more and with each ejaculation, his nerves tingled with a feeling of unutterable delight. Their bodies dripped with sweat as they clung together and he felt her hot, perspiring tits rubbing against his chest, adding to the overall feelings of sensuality.
With a gasp he broke away from her, his cock still inside her, but softening.
"Oh, Keer-ist, Tiffany . . . Jesus, God, I came in you."
She looked down at his face and smiled happily. "I know, I felt it. I felt that cum shooting into me. It's running down and out. I came, too. Oh, Axel, it was the most wonderful feeling I ever thought could happen to me. Oh, Axel-" She kissed him quickly, and then stared down at him again. "Come on, get hard again, so we can do it once more. Come on, I want to fuck all night." Impetuously she tongued his cheeks, his neck, licking his flesh and sending icy tingles through him.
"Quit that," he said roughly. "Come on, relax. This is the best part. Just relax after you've come."
She wriggled her hips, feeling his cock about to slip out of her, and she tried to push down to keep it in. Then with a quick movement, his cock was out of her, and she moaned. "Oh, leave it in, Axel. I want it in me." And he laughed.
"Stupid, Once it's shot, it's soft for a while. And with all the fucking I've done today, it ain't gonna get up 'til tomorrow, I know that for sure. Come on, Tiff, lay still."
Obediently, because she was feeling tired and sleepy herself, Tiffany rolled off him and lay beside his body, her arm across his stomach, tenderly trailing her fingers in the sticky sweat on his skin.
"Oh, Axel, it's so wonderful," she murmured. "You really like fucking with me, don't you?"
"Uh-huh," he grunted, wishing she would be quiet.
"We can fuck anytime, can't we?"
"Tiffany, shut up, will you?"
"Don't tell me to shut up. Axel, I love you."
"I know. I know. Now hush your mouth a minute. Jeez, you're worse than Sally. After I fuck her, all she wants to do is talk about how good it was. I know it's good. Just lay back and enjoy it. Besides, if we talk, Dad may hear us and come in."
"All right."
Tiffany was silent for a moment, her mind teeming with the incredible feeling she had just experienced, and also aware of the primary purpose for her coming into Axel's room. She let her fingers trail up his body and touch him on the lips.
"Axel-"
"What now?"
"You know something? I talked to Daddy about my joining the group. He said I could when we get back to California."
She felt him stiffen and he gasped. "You're putting me on. Dad'd never say that. I know. Sally's the singer. Besides, she's my chick. I can't throw her out and you know that. Dad wouldn't dig that idea, anyway."
"It's true. He said so tonight before I went to bed."
"Maybe he meant in a few years."
"No," replied Tiffany, still playing gently with his chest, caressing his nipples with her fingertips, and enjoying the feel of their firmness; smaller than hers, but the same firmness. Maybe he was still excited . . .
"Go to bed now, Tiff. I want to sleep."
"Okay," she said, moving slowly to the edge of the bed, and preparing to slide her legs off the edge. "But I wanted you to know we'll not only be fucking again. I'll be singing with you. I've always wanted that, you know, Axel."
He sat up and stared hard into her face.
"When you're ready, you can sing with the group," he said to her sternly. "Not before."
"Daddy said I could when we get home. You ask . him."
"Then there's gonna be one helluva row. Sally's the singer and I want her to stay. So forget it, Tiff."
She eyed him steadily, and licked her lips. "If you don't want me, then I'll just have to do something about it," she said slowly and with all the intensity she could muster. "I mean, if I join the group, we'll not only sing together, we'll fuck together, Axel. Think of that."
"Look, little sister." His voice was blatantly impatient now, almost the same tone she remembered her father using at times with her. "I got my chick in the group. She sings good, and she fucks good, too. What do I need you for? And like I said, you're not ready yet. So knock it off. And go to bed. Good night."
He turned away and pulled the sheet up, the movement easing Tiffany's body toward the edge of the bed. Tiffany slid her feet to the floor, stood up and stared down at her brother.
"If you don't want me to join the group," she said with terrible clarity, "then I'll just have to tell Daddy that you've been fucking me."
Axel sat bolt upright in bed and Tiffany could see, even in the dim light, that a look of mounting horror spread over his features.
"I hope you're only kidding, Tiffany."
She shook her head firmly. "Nope. I want to sing with you, Axel. I know I can be good. You just don't want to give me the chance. So I've got to make my chance. What do you say?"
"What about Sally?"
"Get rid of her." The words snapped out heartlessly.
Axel stared at his sister uncomprehendingly. "Tiffany, what's happened? You wouldn't do anything like tell Dad, now, would you?"
"I would, Axel."
"But-but Dad'd kill me. Oh, shit. . . " His voice trailed off as their eyes met and stared unwaveringly at each other for a few seconds. Then Axel turned away.
"You would, wouldn't you?" he said softly. "Jesus Christ, my own sister . . . "
"You fucked me, Axel," Tiffany said softly. "And you know what Dad would say, and what he'd do. So you just do like I say and everything will be fine."
"But what about Sally?"
"So she can get a job with another group. No problem." Tiffany waved her hand airily. "It's perfectly natural that you'd want your own sister. Like some other groups who have the family along, you know. Axel, I don't have to give you reasons. I'm just telling you how it is. I want to join the group, and as soon as we get back home, we're starting rehearsal with me, not Sally."
Axel groaned and turned away. Slowly he slid under the covers until only his head was visible, his eyes burning with hatred. "You're sure a little bitch," he muttered. "Okay. Okay. You win."
Impulsively, Tiffany leaned over and tried to kiss him on the lips, but he turned away disgustedly.
Tiffany laughed and moved away from the bed. "Don't feel too bad, Axel," she murmured softly. "You'll feel better tomorrow. And," she added with a giggle, "you'll feel much better when I suck your cock again. In a few weeks, I'll be even better than I am now."
"Get your ass out of here," he snapped.
With a laugh, Tiffany walked to the door, opened it and silently made her way back to her room. As she slid between the sheets, she sighed contentedly. Oh, it was working out so well. She'd be singing with the group; she'd be fucking with Axel and she'd certainly crawl into bed with her father again, she knew. As sleep overcame her, she had a sudden picture of herself on stage, stark naked, with hundreds of young men, each with his pants open and a monstrous hard-on sticking out, all clawing up at her, trying to touch her, to rip her clothes off, to throw her to the floor and fuck her and fuck her and fuck her . . .