Chapter 7
Sunlight crept in through the open window and splashed across the bed, bringing Denise Crocker out of a deep and dream-filled sleep. She sat up in the rumpled bed, and the blanket dropped to her lap to reveal naked breasts, coral nipples hard.
Denise stretched, yawned and murmured sleepily, "What an absolutely creamy night! All those delicious erotic happenings with Brand Foxhill!" Her naked breasts shook as she laughed softly, like a tinkling bell. "A real jock, that boy. Came at me as if he expected sex to go out" of style any second." She grimaced. "My poor ass is still sore from the way he fucked it, and I can still taste the come he squirted when I sucked his big juicy cock." She gave a delicate little shudder, giggled. "If I can get him to tuck that big prick of his between the lips of my cunt tonight, I'll really be able to chalk it up on the calendar as an event to remember!"
Denise wondered how Brand was faring this morning. Maybe the poor bastard was having difficulty explaining to his domineering mother the pecker tracks she was sure to have discovered on the front of his pants.
Poor Brand!
Poor hell, Denise corrected herself. Daddy and I should have the loot Arab and Brand Foxhill haul in just from the construction of FOXHILL HOMES, and to hell with the rest of FOXHILL ENTERPRISES, which represented a few more million dollars worth of goodies.
Denise felt her pussy getting hot and checked the impulse to finger herself into an early morning come. A sigh seeped past her lips. No stinky finger. That would be cheating Daddy, and cheating Daddy was out.
Denise scrambled out of bed and took a quick shower. Then she returned to her bedroom and went to work on herself at the cosmetic table. She pouted at her mirror twin. Then she held the pucker and applied a generous coating of dark red lipstick to her sensuous mouth. Now she was beginning to look like a sexy bitch.
The thought of looking like a bitch amused Denise. Even at the tender age of thirteen she had known how to go the bitch route to attract the opposite gender with her budding body. Especially dirty old men. Like the uncle who had copped the cherry from her mouth by conning her into going down on him.
Oddly enough, she couldn't recall the uncle's name. She did, however, remember what the sixty-year-old fart looked like. Uncle had been a short, potbellied man, bald except for a fringe of hair that circled his skull like an unfinished halo. Too, she remembered his breath. He had always reeked of wine. Cheap wine. And he'd had no teeth.
Her thoughts flitted back to the afternoon she had sucked her first cock. Uncle's cock. They had been alone in the house, while outside the rain fell hard and splattered against the windows. She remembered the television set being on and Uncle watching some dumb afternoon movie. She lay on the shag rug near.
Presently, she had fallen asleep in front of the crackling fire, and awakened to find Uncle sitting and panting beside her. More than panting, really, for when she opened her eyes she found his bony hands resting on her tight little ass.
There had been no fear in her as she sat up beside the horny old bastard. Nothing had happened. True, her short skirt rode high on her thighs and the top button of her blouse had mysteriously become undone, but her panties were still in place and this told her that she had awakened in the nick of time.
"What is it, Uncle?" she had asked with mock innocence, knowing damn well what had almost come down. "Is something wrong?"
Uncle shook his head. "No, baby, nothing is wrong. I just got lonesome for company so I thought I'd sit down by the fire with my favorite niece." He retrieved the glass of wine and extended it toward her. "Try some, little one. It will take the chill from your bones."
She had raised the glass and drained its contents. And then strange things began to happen.
Uncle had suggested, "What say we park our rumps on the sofa and watch some television, baby?"
"All right."
Uncle had helped her up from the shag rug by placing his bony hands over her apple-sized breasts, then chuckled and said, "I'm feeling a pair of hard sweeties that tells me my niece is growing up."
She had been no stranger even then to having her miniature breasts teased by male hands, but Uncle's were getting to her. She stifled a giggle and wondered: Is he trying to fuck me?
She permitted him to hug her titties with his bony hands for a few more seconds. Then she broke free and crossed over to the sofa, with Uncle sniffing after her like a raunchy old hound in heat.
She squirmed into position on the sofa, her short skirt climbing high on her thighs until Uncle could see her bikini panties. He was puffing as he sank down beside her and said thickly, "I like you, baby."
"And I like you, Uncle."
"Enough to sit on my lap?"
"You betchum."
Uncle's bony hands gripped her waspish waist and lifted her to his lap. His erection had throbbed against her buttocks. She had known what it was but playing the role of the innocent niece she had remarked, "You feel lumpy, Uncle."
"Oh?"
"Do you have a flashlight in your pocket?"
"No, baby. Not flashlight, fleshlight. What you're feeling against your pretty little rear is my prod."
"What's a prod?"
"It's what men use to piss with."
"Is that all it's good for—to piss with?"
"No, baby. It's good for a lot of other things."
"Like what?"
"Well, it can be used to make a girl happy in many ways. Even little girls like yourself, baby. Would you like for me to show you one of them?"
"I wouldn't mind."
"All right, I will, baby. But not just yet. Let me do something else first."
"Oh? What?"
"Let me touch you a little."
"Touch me where, Uncle?"
"Here," Uncle said as he lifted a bony hand to the front of her blouse and loosened another button. "Don't be scared, baby. All I want to do is see those little sweeties of yours, and fool around with them a little."
Tipsy and curious, she had leaned back against Uncle's chest and permitted him to have his lustful way with her. Uncle wasted no time in doing his thing. Hands quaking, he loosened the buttons of her blouse and then drew the material aside to expose her braless breasts. He admired the blunt pink tips of her titties and then dropped his mouth to the nearest one and took it between his lips. Toothless gums raked it and made her shiver with delight.
She had squirmed against his erection and shrilled, "Oooh, that feels so nice, Uncle."
Uncle's gums kept gnawing on her tiny nipple. Simultaneously, his bony right hand slithered up the inner path of her thigh and came to rest on the warm webbing of her bikini panties.
Still thinking Uncle intended to fuck her, she had permitted her thighs to drift apart, to make it easier for his fingers to reach her almost hairless pussy, but Uncle wasn't interested in copping her cherry. He caressed her panties and devoured her little nipple until she was writhing all over his covered erection, and just as she was about to beg him to fuck her ... Uncle permitted the nipple to escape from between his lips and dumped her to the floor.
She had looked up at him with surprised eyes. "What's the matter, Uncle? Why did you stop fooling around with my little titties and my burning twinkie?"
Uncle reached for his fly and unlocked his zipper, then hauled out his cock into full view. "I'm too worked up to fool around anymore, baby. Now we get down to the nitty-gritty."
"Are you going to fuck me?"
"No, baby, you're going to suck me."
She stared at his erection. Uncle's cock was small, needle-headed, but to her it was the biggest instrument of pleasure she had seen to date, and the mere thought of taking it inside her mouth frightened her.
"I don't think I want to suck your thing, Uncle," she had said. "It might hurt me."
"That's pure nonsense, baby. A taste of my cock juice will make you into a real woman. Come on, try it."
She had hesitated, her eyes never leaving Uncle's cock.
Uncle wet his lips and then removed a silver dollar from his pocket. He had wagged the ancient coin at her. "You know what this is, baby? It's the 1973 silver dollar I promised to give you on your sixteenth birthday."
"I know."
"Only you needn't wait that long to put it in your collection, baby. Take my cock in that pretty mouth of yours and you can have it right now. How about it, baby?"
"I don't know, Uncle ... "
"Think about it, baby. A buck for a suck."
She had looked at the silver dollar, and then at his erection. The moments dragged.
"Well, baby?"
Greed won out. She had licked her virginal red lips in a moistening gesture, nodded. "All right, Uncle. Give me the silver dollar."
"Not yet, baby. Not until after you play a tune on my skin flute." He fisted his small cock and shook it at her. "Come on, baby, don't be bashful. Take my cock in that sweet little mouth of yours and taste my come."
She had remained seated on her ass for another pair of seconds. Staring at the rigid flesh Uncle wanted her to take inside her mouth. Then she came to her knees between his yawning legs and touched his cock for the first time. She skinned him back to expose its tip. Then she lifted her eyes to meet his. "Will it make me sick, Uncle?"
"Will what make you sick, baby?"
"Your juice?"
"What makes you so sure I'm going to squirt my juice in your pretty mouth, baby?"
She had giggled. "I know about things like that, Uncle. My best friend at school told me about the man who always squirts in her mouth ... and always makes her throw up."
"My cock milk won't make you puke," Uncle said. "All it'll do is make you hungry for more. Try it, you'll like it."
She moistened her lips again. "I don't know, Uncle. Wouldn't you rather I used my hand on it?"
Uncle was amused. "I don't need you or anyone else to lope my mule, baby." His voice turned wheedling again. "If you want the silver dollar, you'll have to suck me off to get it. Well, baby, what's it going to be?"
She had leaned forward a bit to examine his drooling cock and replied, "Better to blow you than blow the silver dollar."
Uncle chuckled and patted her on the top of her head. Then he stretched his skinny legs out before him. "Hop to it, baby."
Baby had hopped. She planted a butterfly kiss on the tip of his cock. Eyes were closed, her mind filled with but a single thought: A buck for a suck ...
Uncle shivered as her tongue grazed the underside of his slippery knob. He stiffened a moment later as she stretched her lips into a perfect oval and nipped him with her small, sharp, white teeth. Then he gripped her ears. "Don't smoke it; chew it!" A second later he cursed and corrected himself, "I mean smoke it; don't chew it! God, that smarts!"
She had stopped hurting his cock with her teeth. Then she took a deep breath and renewed her massaging attack on his cock, for the first taste of his semen was enough to hook her. Jaws stretched to accommodate Uncle's whang and her free hand palmed his balls. Uncle shivered again. Then he relaxed against the sofa and permitted her to do him up brown with her lips.
She made small animal sounds as she took the length of his small cock in her mouth and went about the chore of treating Uncle to a blow job. In a few seconds Uncle moaned.
"Suck me faster and harder, baby," Uncle panted. "Work for the silver dollar's worth of come I'm going to give you!"
She worked. Speedily. Greedily. Eagerly.
She sucked and gnawed on his cock. She worked to drain his pipe and Uncle thrilled to every draw she made with her lips and teeth, until insanity gripped his balls and he erupted to fill her mouth and throat with a healthy batch of passion sauce that damn near strangled her.
She had made loud gulping sounds in the suddenly ominous silence.
Animal sounds.
Like a starving cat.
Until he finished coming ...
"That was by far the best blowjob I ever had," Uncle said after the room stopped spinning. "I mean it, baby. A few more cocks between those sweet lips of yours and you'll be a real pro in the vine-swinging department."
She smiled. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Uncle. I did, too." She held out her hand. "Now may I have the silver dollar?"
"Sure, baby, sure."
Uncle had dug the silver dollar from his pocket and flipped it in the air. She caught it deftly, examined the coin. "You tricked me, you old sonofabitch! This silver dollar isn't real!"
Uncle had doubled up with laughter. "Of course it isn't real, baby. It never was. Only the blowjob you gave me was real."
"You won't get away with this, you dirty old fart," she had shrieked at him. "I don't like to be cheated. I'm going to tell Daddy what you made me do to you!"
Uncle's nostrils had quivered and the blood drained from his face. "Do that to me and I'll break your pretty little neck, baby."
"I'm going to tell on you, I'm going to tell on you!"
Uncle had started to make good his threat by reaching for her throat. His arms froze in mid-air as a car horn sounded outside.
Daddy was home!
Uncle had immediately lost interest in doing her bodily harm and made like a scared rabbit through the back door, leaving luggage and everything else behind ...
Denise's train of thought chugged back into the present, her pussy wet and hot from the memory of the erotic trip she had just finished taking into the past.
"Damn," she said aloud, "why is it that my cunt always melts whenever I think about sucking someone's cock?" She giggled. "Maybe I should do something about the melting. Maybe I should get all dolled up and pay Daddy a visit in his room."
The idea appealed to her. Daddy knew what to do to cool the heat in her loins. Daddy always knew what to do. Had known since the same afternoon she had sucked Uncle's prick. Daddy was her dream man ... the horny knight on the white stallion every girl sees riding through her sleep.
Daddy. She. They had lived for each other since that weird rainy afternoon when she had sucked her first cock. Theirs was a gentle relationship, and the routine never varied. It would start with a kiss, her body rubbing against his, and then she would permit him to undress her and plant more kisses all over her naked flesh ... until she could stand it no longer ... and then she would trap his cock between her sensuous red lips and devour him.
Passion mounted in Denise's loins. She licked her lips. "I think I will doll up and pay Daddy a visit before breakfast."
Denise selected a bra and crammed her exquisite tits into it. The bra was white nylon with wide set lingerie straps. Lace, crotchless G-string panties were next on the agenda. She tugged the scanties into place. Then she donned a tight sweater and an equally snug micromini skirt. She ran a caressing hand over her breasts and smiled at her image in the full-length door mirror. She looked as sexy as she felt. A dash of the expensive French perfume Daddy like to inhale and then she would be ready to meet her maker.
A cock. She was hungry for a cock. Daddy's cock.
Denise floated down the silent hallway to Daddy's bedroom. The door was closed. She rattled the doorknob. "Daddy, are you awake?"
Silence. Seconds passed. She knocked and called again, "Daddy, are you awake?"
She turned the knob and entered Daddy's bedroom.
The bed was empty.
Then, somewhat belatedly, she remembered that Daddy always left early for the FOXHILL HOMES DEVELOPMENT office on Friday mornings.
She smiled suddenly. Leaving early meant that Daddy would return early, too, and then they would have the entire weekend to themselves.
Flames of passion still blazed in Denise's loins, but she bravely decided to restrain herself until Daddy came home. Well, the least she could do was try to restrain herself ...
Denise went into the spacious front room to raid the booze bin. Hard stuff this early in the morning was not her usual habit, but her cunt was still on fire and she needed something stronger than a glass of weak wine to soothe her savage beast.
She built herself a brandy highball and carried it over to the sofa. Her pussy kept twitching. A distraction. She needed a distraction. She sipped the drink and thought about Daddy's juicy cock. The knowledge that today Daddy would bring his whang home early sent thrills running up and down her spine. A few seconds later she felt her sleeping nipples awaken behind her bra to show through her tight sweater.
Denise pressed her thighs together and focused her attention on the television screen. She winced inwardly and wondered how many more times the local channel intended to clobber its viewers with reruns of the lousy shitkicker series Arab Foxhill used as an excuse to advertise FOXHILL HOMES.
Disgusted, she plunged the television set into darkness.
A few seconds later the phone rang.
"Denise?" The caller was Arab Foxhill.
"Yes, Mrs. Foxhill, this is Denise. If you want to speak with Daddy, you're too late. He's already on his way to the office."
"Mitch isn't the reason I'm calling, Denise."
"Oh?"
"Brand mentioned seeing you last night," Arab Foxhill said in a sick-sweet voice, "and this reminded me that it's been ages since I last saw you. I'm still a bit miffed at your father for not mentioning your return from Paris, but I'll forgive him if you accept an invitation to spend this coming weekend with me at my beach house. Do we have a date, Denise?"
The last thing Denise wanted to do was spend the weekend with Arabella Foxhill, but the very last thing she wanted was to get Brand's mother pissed off enough to tie the can to Daddy's tail ...
"We have a date, Mrs. Foxhill. What time?"
"Eight o'clock tonight all right with you?"
"Eight it is, Mrs. Foxhill."
Denise muttered as she returned the phone to its cradle and retrieved her brandy highball. "That buddy-buddy number of yours doesn't fool this kid. I know why you asked me over for the weekend. To keep me away from your son's cock ... "
The morning passed slowly.
Denise was on her seventh highball and feeling no pain when she heard the front door open and slam shut. "Is that you, Daddy?"
"Who the hell else would it be, honey bear?" Daddy teased as he walked into the living room. "The milkman is too damned old to do you any good, and the mailman won't be by for another hour or so."
A strange but familiar heat jumped into Denise's loins the instant she saw her father. Daddy was turning her on. He always did. Tall, iron-haired and muscular, he was as handsome as any movie star she had ever seen.
Denise's pussy drooled as she shifted on the sofa to make room for her father. This sliding motion caused her short skirt to climb higher on her milk-smooth thighs.
Denise glanced at the wall clock. "What's with the home early number, lover? Don't tell me Arab Foxhill came down with a bad case of generosity and gave you the afternoon off?"
Mitch Crocker smiled. "Arab doesn't do anything out of kindness, honey bear. I'm still working. I just came home to pack a bag. The Iron Maiden is sending me to one of her branch offices in Key West for the weekend."
"That figures," Denise said as she got up to mix a drink for him. "The old split routine. Arab sends you out of town and invites me over for the weekend. Damn!"
Mitch Crocker paled slightly. "You don't suppose she somehow found out that you and Brand had an orgy in the garden last night, do you?"
Denise smiled mirthlessly. "How could she miss finding out? You know how Brand is dominated by the bitch. One stern look from her and he wilts like yesterday's gardenia. Oh, she knows, all right. That's why she wants me to spend the weekend with her." Denise handed him his drink. "What do you know about Arab Foxhill that I don't?"
Mitch laughed. "Plenty. This hang-up over her son isn't the only one Arab has, honey bear. I know a few other bunnies in this neck of the swamp she drove away from Brand with her tongue, and I'll lay odds you're going to receive the same treatment."
Denise sat down beside him, frowned. "You mean Arab is going to read me off?"
Mitch grinned at her. "I mean she's going to eat you out of her son's life."
Denise's eyes widened slightly in surprise, her blood quickened. "I didn't even suspect her of plugging in both ways, but now that I do know ... what are we going to do about it?"
Mitch took a swallow of his drink. "We are not going to do anything, honey bear—you are."
"How?"
Mitch rattled the ice in his glass. "By spending the weekend with Arab Foxhill and doing everything she asks of you, honey bear."
She grimaced. "Don't joke, Daddy."
"It's not a joke, honey bear. To put it bluntly, it's your ass or mine. All things considered, I think it better be yours."
"Whatever you think best, Daddy," Denise said, her blood speeding up at the prospect of pitching a weekend orgy with the richest woman in Harbor City. "And speaking of ass, how much time can you spare to take care of mine?"
Mitch set his glass on the rug and trapped Denise in his arms. "You little alley cat, you're always ready, aren't you?"
Denise fondled his covered cock. "That's right, I'm a wantin', and at the moment I'm a wantin' you, Daddy. All of you."
Denise shivered with delight as Daddy's hand crept under her tight sweater and captured a bra-covered breast.
She started to slide from Mitch's lap to her knees. He gently squeezed her breast. "No, honey bear. No blowjob. Today I want you in the regular way."
Denise relaxed and then moaned softly as Daddy's squirming fingers eased behind her bra and tweaked her nipples into full bloom.
"Oh, Daddy!" she hissed passionately. "Your fingers feel delicious! You drive me right up the nearest wall! Ah, don't stop, don't stop!"
Denise's heart hammered as Daddy's other hand vanished under the hem of her skirt and prowled through her pubic garden. Spasms of pleasure ripped through every fiber of her being. Her breasts tingled as his hand moved from one to the other in a kneading manner. She couldn't take much more of this. No way.
"Fuck me, Daddy! Now, now!"
"Make yourself ready, honey bear."
Denise needed no encouragement. She removed her tight sweater. She tossed it aside. "Your turn, Daddy. Unzip me."
Denise stood up while Mitch attacked her skirt. He forced the material downward until it dropped to form into a puddle of cloth around her ankles.
"Ah," Denise sighed as his lips brushed fleetingly against her dimpled navel, "that feels so creamy! Now take off my shoes."
"No," Mitch rasped as he placed his sweaty palms on her hips. "Leave them on. You know how I react to seeing a naked doll in high heels."
"And how I know!"
Mitch's fingers hooked into the elastic waistband of her crotchless panties and lowered them to where Denise could step free of the material. Now all she had on were the strap sandals and the dainty half bra, but not for long. Mitch pushed the lingerie straps from her smooth shoulders and unclasped it. He jerked it free and tumbled her breasts into complete nakedness.
Mitch undressed and lowered his body on top of hers. "Here it comes, honey bear!"
"I'm waiting, Daddy. Slap it to me!"
Mitch clutched Denise's slightly grinding hips and filled her cunt with his rock-hard cock.
Denise moaned. Her arms coiled around his neck. Her cheek slid smoothly against his. Her searching lips met and locked with his. Theirs was a long and hungry kiss. They broke for air. Her lips moved away from his. She kissed his cheeks, his eyes, his chin, his throat. She mashed her breasts against his chest. Her hips began to grind faster over the goring cock that filled her tingling cunt. She was melting. Turning into liquid fire.
"Ah, Daddy, Daddy, I'm burning up! Do your thing! Cool my hot cunt with your come! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"
Daddy fucked her.
Slowly. Expertly. Rhythmically.
In and out, in and out. Winding her up like a toy doll. Tighter and tighter and tighter.
"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy," Denise chanted, "your big cock feels so wonderful inside my cunt! Damn, damn, does it ever feel wonderful! Pour it to me, pour it to me!"
Denise's hips jerked and her eyes glazed in warning of an approaching climax.
Mitch renewed his attack on Denise's wet cunt.
Denise was almost home. Ass bounced, hips churned faster. Almost home ...
Mitch's phallic worm kept squirming. In and out, in and out.
"Oooh, Daddy, Daddy, what you're doing to me with that long fat cock of yours!"
Denise's lips prowled over his now flushed face again. Searching for his mouth. Slipping her tongue between his teeth. Tickling the back of his throat in her own interpretation of the French kiss.
Mitch responded to the French kiss. He increased the speed of his strokes, wanting her to detonate with him. He began ramming into her, harder and harder. She matched him ram for ram.
Denise's cunt kept melting, her body kept quivering. She savored the hardness of Daddy's body against the softness of her own, the heavy throb of his slithering shaft as it continued to massage her electrified box.
She wrapped her legs around Daddy's hunching buttocks. "I'm coming, I'm coming!"
And she did. So did her father. They detonated together.
Later, much later, Denise smiled dreamily. "It's been so long since we've gone the missionary route I'd almost forgotten how wonderful a fuck in the cunt could be, Daddy. It was beautiful. Really and truly it was beautiful."
Mitch sat up on the sofa. "For me, too, honey bear."
"I pleased you, master?"
Mitch grinned. "Let me put it this way, honey bear. You do pretty well in the hanky-panky department ... for an amateur."
Denise squirmed into a sitting position beside her father. She said with mock indignation, "Amateur? You'll live to regret that put-down, chum." She dropped a hand to his lap and flicked a finger against his limber cock.
Mitch shifted his attention to the wall clock and a curse ripped past his suddenly twisted lips. One hour from now ... he had a plane to catch.
"I'd better start packing, honey bear."
Denise's face clouded with sadness. "I wish you didn't have to go on that stinking trip, Daddy."
"So do I, honey bear, but when Arab Foxhill says jump, I jump. I hope you remember to do the same."
Denise smiled suddenly. "Do you want me to help you pack, Daddy?" He gave her nearest breast a quick hug. "I'll take care of it."
Mitch walked out of the room. Denise finished her drink and dressed quickly so she could walk Daddy out to the car when he made ready to leave. A minute or so later she heard a car stop outside. She crossed over to the picture window. It was Brand Foxhill.
Denise met Brand at the front door. "The answer to a maidenhead's—well, maiden's anyhow, prayer. Daddy is packing to go on a business trip for your mother, and I was about to come down with a sudden case of boredom. Now you're here, and now I needn't worry about getting bored."
Brand caressed her crowded sweater as he stepped inside and grinned. "You might wind up getting bored, but not in the way you mean, hot stuff."
Denise reached out and patted his crotch. "I'm game, but not until after Daddy cuts out. How about a drink?"
Brand nodded and followed her swinging hips into the front room. "Make it a double of anything. I need something strong to get this shitty taste out of my mouth."
Denise shot him a quick look as she went behind the bar. "You sound up-tight, Brand. Would you like to talk about it?"
Brand fished a cigarette from his coat pocket. "Mother found out about the game we played in your garden last night."
"And?"
Brand took a deep drag on his cigarette. "We ended up doing a number on each other."
"Who won the battle?"
"I did." Brand grinned. "Mother damn near shit when I announced during breakfast that I was packing up and clearing out of the nest."
"You're kidding, aren't you?"
"Nope. My bags are in the Mercedes. By tonight I'll be living it up at our Moon Lake cottage. That's why I stopped by, Denise. To ask if you'd care to join me in a weekend orgy."
Denise finished making the drinks and joined him on the sofa before she said, "I'm afraid I can't do that, Brand. I've been invited to spend the weekend with your mother, starting this evening."
Brand's eyes darkened. "Do me a favor?"
"If I can."
"Return Mother's phone call and tell her to jam the invitation up her ass."
Denise filled his hand with a highball and smiled acidly. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Brand. Your mother didn't come right out and say it, but I'm afraid our getting tight last night has put Daddy's job on the line."
"Meaning she'll tie the can to Mitch's tail if you don't follow through on the invitation."
"You got it."
Brand started to say something but at this point Denise's father came into the living room. Mitch set both suitcases down on the floor and said, "Brand."
Brand nodded. "Mitch. I hear you're being banished to Key West for the weekend."
Mitch smiled sourly. "I hope it's only for the weekend."
Denise stood and walked up to her father. "Call me when you get to Key West?"
"You know I will." He pecked Denise on the lips and gave her a playful slap across her shapely ass. "Be good, honey bear. But if you can't be good, be careful."
"Yes, Daddy."
Mitch shook hands with Brand and left. A minute or so later they heard him drive away from the house.
Brand grinned at her and said, "I envy you, Denise."
"For what?"
"For the fantastic relationship you have with your father."
Denise's eyes twinkled as she remembered the beautiful fuck Daddy had thrown into her earlier. "Yes, we're just one big happy family." Denise dropped a hand to Brand's crotch and gave his limp cock a quick hug with her fingers. "There's nothing to prevent us from getting with it right now, Brand." She licked her lips. "I missed breakfast. How about letting me chow down on your big sausage?"
Brand shivered and felt his sleeping cock awaken. It stretched and hardened against his thigh. He leaned back against the sofa cushions. "Go ahead, Denise, do me."
Denise unlocked his fly zipper and hauled out his petrified rope of flesh. She unsheathed the knob by skinning him back. There was a small popping sound as his cockhead jumped into view. She admired his magnificent erection for a few seconds. Then she melted to her knees before him and made ready to worship at the phallic shrine.
Denise's breasts mashed against his thighs as she yawned and took the swollen knob of his prick between her lips. Brand shuddered convulsively as her mouth tightened over it. He glanced down and watched the length of his cock vanish deeper and deeper into her red-rimmed mouth ... until his balls came to rest against her dimpled chin.
Denise made a gurgling sound. Then she cupped his nuggets in her palm and tickled them with the tips of her squirming fingers.
"Suck, Denise, suck."
Good. It was getting good to him.
Denise tickled his balls and made strange gulping sounds. Noisy gulps. Greedy gulps. Sucking.
"I'm getting there," Brand croaked. "Damn, damn, am I ever getting there!"
Denise kept going. She sucked and gnawed on his cock until he erupted. Then she devoured his fluid with gusto, draining him, and when he finished gushing she permitted his penis to slither from between her warm lips and asked, "Did you enjoy the ride, big stud?"
Brand helped her to a sitting position beside him. "It was a fantastic trip, Denise."
Denise nodded and reached for a nearby box of facial tissues. She wiped her slightly smudged lips with one, then smiled dreamily. "I enjoyed eating you off, but I'm glad you aren't in the mood to dish out seconds."
"Oh?"
"That big cock of yours wore me out, and now I feel like the female executive who just finished putting in a long shift—you know, a hard day at the orifice."
Brand made a sour face. "I'm sorry you said that."
Denise giggled. "So am I." She patted his flaccid cock. "How about another drink?"
Brand shook his head. "Another time, Denise. I think I'd better move on down the road. It's a long haul to Moon Lake. Sure you won't change your mind and come with me?"
A bitchy smile curved her lips. "I can't ignore your mother, Brand, but I do have an idea you might go for."
Brand crammed his cock back inside his pants and zipped his fly. "Lay it on me."
"You're pissed off at your mother, right?"
"That's no shit."
"So why don't you invite some company out to the lake that will really tear her up?"
"I can't," he said sourly. "Mother saw to that a long time ago. The only girl she hasn't scared away from me is yourself."
She almost laughed at the expression on his face. "You're wrong, Brand. There's one other girl your mother hasn't reached."
"Which one?"
"Ginger Green."
Brand stared at her for a few seconds. Then he snapped his fingers. "That's right! Kiss my ass, I completely forgot about Ginger Green!"
Denise's eyes sparkled. "Ginger Green makes no bones about having hot panties for you."
"You're putting me on."
"Find out for yourself. Call Ginger at your mother's office and ask her for a date."
Brand glanced at his wrist watch. It was eleven o'clock.
"To hell with getting on the horn," Brand said as he reached out to trap and fondle her nearest breast. "I think I'll trip over to the subdivision office and do my number in person."