Chapter 3
Barbara Lipscotch, known to her friends as "Barbie," studied herself in the mirror as she drew the brush through her long, light brown hair.
Not bad, she said to herself, smiling.
In fact, she looked absolutely stunning.
The lovely fifteen year old had just a towel wrapped around her body, having stepped out of the shower half an hour earlier.
She had blow dried her hair and was brushing the long tresses hard. Her hair was silky and long, flowing about her shoulders in auburn waves.
Her face was oval-shaped with a porcelain smooth complexion. She had large, limpid, long lashed eyes which were a sexy sea green.
She had a small, perky button of a nose, and her mouth was warm and full-lipped and sensuous and raspberry hued.
Her body was lithe and budding. She no longer looked like an awkward adolescent, but a luscious young lady.
Her breasts were small and firm and jutting, like grapefruits, pressing against the terry cloth towel urgently.
Her belly was lean, her waist was extremely tiny, and her hips sloped voluptuously.
She had a high, firm, bouncy ass and long, lovely, shapely legs.
She wanted to look good now for her date with Curt. Thinking of the young man who was due to pick her up in forty-five minutes, Barbie's heart skipped a beat and she felt a tremor of excitement rustle through her.
Curt Davis was the high school jock, the dreamy guy all the girls longed for. He was the captain of the football team, and he was eighteen, a real man!
He was tall and strong and muscular, with short-cropped blond hair, a sexy tan and mocking blue eyes, not to speak of a dazzling, heart-melting smile.
He was also known to be a bit of a playboy. He dated as many of the prettiest girls in the eleventh and twelfth grades as he could, and was known to follow the motto, "catch 'em, fuck 'em, dump 'em."
Curt Davis left a trail of broken hearts through the halls of Tuckerville High.
Barbie was a sophomore, and she admired Curt from afar, never dreaming that he would notice her, let alone ask her on a date.
But she underestimated her charms. Barbie Lipscotch was quite clearly the most beautiful, sexiest girl in the tenth grade. She was lovelier and looked more mature than most of the girls in the eleventh and twelfth grades.
Barbie was so beautiful, in fact, that a lot of guys whom she would have been interested in didn't approach her because they thought they wouldn't have a chance to get to first base.
In fact, Curt Davis had been eyeing the gorgeous young chick for some time now.
He made his move a week before. After school, Barbie had been strolling out of the building down toward the parking lot where the busses were parked.
A deep masculine voice rang out beside her.
"Hey. there, uh. Barbie, isn't it?"
She turned and looked up into those very sexy blue eyes, and nearly swooned on the steps of the school.
Not only was Curt Davis talking to her, he actually knew who she was!
"H-Hi!" she managed to stammer, just barely keeping herself from dropping her books.
"I'm Curt Davis," he said, "I think we met at Marcie Jacobson's party a few weeks ago."
Actually, that was true. One of the girls had briefly introduced Barbie to Curt that evening, but she was sure at the time that he had hardly noticed her. She found it incredibly flattering that she had made an impression on him.
"Would you like a lift home?" he asked.
"S-Sure!" she gasped.
Gosh, if he'd ask her to walk home with him, she'd gladly have done it!!
He behaved like a perfect gentleman, driving her home in his gleaming cream colored Porsche, getting out and opening the door for her.
Just as she was turning to walk up the path to her front door, however, Curt had placed his hands on her shoulders and bent down, brushing his lips lightly across her own.
He said huskily, "I want to see you Saturday afternoon. I'll be here to pick you up at two. O.K.?"
What could she say? She nodded and stared after him with star struck eyes as the cream colored Porsche glided away down the street with her blond hero at the wheel.
Barbie sighed, her heart hammering with excitement. She pursed her lips and applied lipstick to them. It was a deep crimson hue, and her lips looked moist and bright and kissable when she had finished.
She daubed some fragrant perfume on her finger tips, dabbing it daintily on her throat and behind her ears.
She turned and looked at the dress she had selected for the afternoon.
It had taken her an hour to choose the right outfit to wear for the occasion. She wanted to look ravishing, but she didn't want it to appear as though she were decking herself out purposefully to attract him.
She had chosen a white summer dress with a low bodice, accentuated her willowy, hour glass figure, fanning in pleats just above the knees.
This way, enough of her legs and breasts were revealed to make her enticing qualities apparent, without looking sluttish.
Barbie drew the towel from around her waist and tossed it over a chair. She turned and stared at her naked body in the full length mirror on the side of her closet.
She had a ravishing figure. Her budding, thrusting breasts were creamy and pale as milk, large, silver dollar sized nipples capping the hills of flesh like crimson cherries.
Her thighs were smooth and supple. A faint, pale brown down formed a triangle between her legs, lightly lining the soft, pouting mound of her pink, girlish mons Veneris.
Barbie was still a virgin. But she had determined to lose her cherry before she turned sixteen.
All of her girlfriends had "gone all the way," or at least, said they had, and Barbie was dying to find out what sex with a guy was like.
She had discovered masturbation long before, and often stroked her hot pussy with the tips of her fingers while she lay in bed at night, closing her eyes and fantasizing about hung studs like Curt Davis.
Now, maybe, her fantasy would come true ...
Shuddering, Barbie drew her hands over the pear-shaped lobes of her breasts, rolling her palms in feathery strokes over her budding nipples. She felt languid ripples of lust rustle through her, and her nubbins grew slowly erect, throbbing like rivets against her hands.
She plucked at the rubbery fingers of flesh and squeezed her tits lasciviously, closing her eyes and moaning in wanton excitement.
She drew her hands slowly down her body, shuddering as she brought them together between her legs.
Staring into the mirror, she watched as her fingers spread the hungry, girlish lips of her labia, revealing the glittering pink jewels of her sex.
She rolled the tip of her forefinger along the hot, unctuous slit, strumming it lightly over the twitching knob of her oily clitoris.
Little explosions of delight fanned through her and she sighed and wriggled her hips wantonly, tickling her clit and pushing her thumb in and out of her hot, buttery slit.
She shifted her eyes suddenly, catching sight of a movement in the reflection in the mirror, and froze with shock.
Behind her, staring through the window at her with smoldering black eyes, was a large, brawny black man.
He was stripped to the waist, and his brawny, heavily muscled, mahogany hued torso gleamed with sweat.
One of his hands was lewdly rubbing back and forth over the front of his tight trousers as he stroked the enormous lump which throbbed there.
Barbie whirled around with a startled cry, grabbing up the towel and covering herself with it.
The black dude grinned at her, revealing his strong white teeth, and then ducked away from the window.
With an exclamation of annoyance, Barbie darted to the window and jerked the curtains closed.
But she felt strangely thrilled by the experience. She actually was a bit turned on by the thought of a full-grown, lusty man getting all hot and horny as he looked at her young, nubile body ...
She recognized the black guy. He was one of the construction workers who were fixing the pool in her neighbors' yard.
She'd noticed the tall, brawny black man the day before on her way home from school, and had fleetingly admired his muscular, bared chest.
Barbie was strangely attracted to brawny, muscular older men. Like her father ...
Barbie impatiently tried to quell the thought, but she had to acknowledge that she had been having increasingly sensual thoughts about Roger Lipscotch of late.
She often sensed his hot gray eyes burning into her, and she felt strangely thrilled by the excitement she felt generating from his powerful, lusty body.
He was a hard man to live with. He was often away for weeks on the road, and even when he was home, he was often drunk and angry, and sometimes slapped and hit his daughters for virtually no reason at all.
When Margaret Lipscotch, Barbie's and Vicki's mother, had lived with them, there had been constant screaming fights between the two parents, and the girls had shrunk from their father and mother, and tried to keep away from home as much as they could.
When Roger went away on his trucking trips, Margaret began to brazenly bring men home with her.
At first, Vicki and Barbie had been confused by this, and then, they had become angry at the way their mother so defiantly cheated on their father. They had no way of knowing that Roger fucked every hot piece of ass he could get his hands on while he was away from home.
A couple of weeks before Margaret left the Lipscotch home for good, Barbie had accidentally witnessed a scene which embossed itself in her mind, coloring her perception of sexuality permanently.
Roger had returned from a trip and discovered a used jock strap in the bedroom which didn't belong to him.
He and Margaret had had a rip roaring fight, screaming and yelling obscenities at each other, throwing things and ranting and raving.
As usual, when this happened, Barbie and Vicki retired to their rooms and closed the doors and pretended to go to sleep.
After a while, though, the shouting stopped pretty abruptly.
Barbie was feeling very thirsty. She wanted a nice tall glass of ice water, so she waited until everything was still, and then crept to the door, opening it and tiptoeing down the hall to the kitchen.
Her parents' bedroom was directly adjacent to the kitchen, and as she approached, Barbie noticed that the door was open and a light was on in the room.
Furthermore, strange noises were emanating from the room, grunting sounds, and a creaking noise, and muffled squeals.
Puzzled, Barbie peered through the door and nearly cried out in shock and surprise at what she saw.
Margaret Lipscotch was stretched across the big double bed on her back. Her wrists were tied to each bed post, and a scarf was wrapped tightly around her mouth, gagging her. Her eyes were bulging and she was making muffled attempts to scream. But her husband had stuffed the soiled jock strap he had found in the bed into her mouth, and she couldn't make a sound.
Margaret Lipscotch had large, thrusting breasts, an enviably huge pair of creamy, red-tipped mammalian which Barbie hoped she would inherit.
Now, those big tits were flopping madly up and down, bouncing from side to side as Margaret's body jerked rhythmically back and forth.
Because Roger's huge, brawny body, stark naked, was laying on top of hers.
Roger had his hands around the backs of Margaret's knees and was pushing her legs forward until her knees almost touched her shoulders.
She was still wearing a pair of high heeled shoes and black net stockings.
Roger was stark naked, and his broad, hairy back and buttocks glistened with sweat.
Grunts sprayed from between his teeth as he savagely slammed his hips forward.
From where she stood, Barbie could clearly see his enormous, bulging phallus sliding in and out of her mother's twitching, fur-lined muff.
His big balls whipped up moistly against her buttocks as he fucked her hard.
"So you think you can fuck around while I'm not around and get away with it, huh?" he snarled thickly, hammering into her hard.
He reached out and grabbed her big, ballooning boobs, crushing them savagely in his hands until the resilient, creamy flesh squelched between his fingers and her body arched in agony.
"Take it, bitch! Take your husband's big fuckin' dick!" he snarled.
He bucked into her hard, making the big bed creak and groan rhythmically.
Barbie was both horrified and tremendously excited by this salacious, lewd scene.
She quickly rushed back to her room, forgetting all about the glass of ice water, and lay in bed, her eyes wide open, her chest heaving, her body flushed with sudden lust.
And she had started to slowly rub the heel of her hand between her moist, girlish thighs, stroking her cunt until a shuddering orgasm wracked her nubile young body.
She had closed her eyes and dreamed of her own father, pumping his big, rigid boner into her cunt, instead of her mother's ...
Barbie frowned as these disturbing memories came rushing back, a stab of guilt and shame cutting through her.
Hastily, she occupied herself with dressing. She pulled on the frothy white dress. It felt light and airy, and it was delectably form fitting.
Her breasts thrust against the thin cotton material, which clearly outlined the turreting knobs of her nipples.
She smiled at herself in the mirror and nodded, going out of her bedroom and into the living room where she sat with bated breath, awaiting Curt's arrival.
She knew that her father was due to get home late that afternoon, and she had left a note on the kitchen table telling him that she would be out with friends till late and that Vicky was spending the night with her best friend, Amy.
She looked at the clock on the wall. It was two o'clock.
A moment later, the door bell rang, and Barbie's heart skipped a beat. She sprang up, taking a deep breath, and marched to the front door, pulling it open.
"Hey, there, beautiful, ready to go for a little ride?" Curt said, grinning wolfishly as his hot blue eyes raked up and down the gorgeous fifteen year old girl's figure.
"Sure am!" she said brightly, flashing him her sexiest smile and trying to appear more self-confident than she felt.
Curt looked positively god-like. He was wearing a dark blue Lacoste short sleeved shirt, which clung to the muscular contours of his torso.
He had on a pair of clinging white slacks, too, and there was a telltale bulge at his crotch which Barbie could not help but notice.
His Porsche was sitting curb side like a gorgeous, cream-colored chariot about to whisk them away to a palace.
"Hop in, beautiful!" Curt said, opening the door and helping her slide across the driver's seat before climbing in beside her.
He flashed her a dazzling grin and drawled, "What d'you say we take a ride over to Lothario Peak?"
He was driving with one hand now, his other arm casually slung around the back of Barbie's seat, brushing against her head.
Barbie's heart fluttered with excitement and she blushed deeply.
Lothario Peak!! That was the Lovers' Lane of Tuckerville! That was where all the seniors took their dates to neck and make out!
She looked straight ahead and said as casually as she could, "Sure, if you want to."
Curt gave her a quick look and said seriously, "No, really, honey, I'm not trying to pressure you into anything. You want to go? If not, we can got take in a movie or something."
Barbie turned and smiled voluptuously at the blond jock.
"Let's go to Lothario Peak," she said evenly.
Curt stared into her sexy sea green eyes, and grinned, lust rushing through his youthful, virile veins.
He stepped on the gas pedal, and the glittering Porsche glided past a battered Pontiac. The middle-aged driver of the Pontiac stared after the Porsche with murderous, envious eyes.
"Goddamn punks!" he muttered sourly beneath his breath.
Just outside of Tuckerville was a small forest and a hilly area. A dirt road wound through the forest, ending abruptly at a cliff overlooking the valley.
It was cloistered by tall oaks and elms, and the purpose of the road had long since been forgotten.
Only the kids used it now, horny young adolescents who took girls to the peak for some lustful tussling.
The Tuckerville cops knew about the peak, but they had nostalgic memories of their own youth when many of them had brought their own dates to Lothario Peak, so they usually left the place alone unless they received complaints from indignant parents.
On a Saturday afternoon, Lothario Peak was usually pretty deserted. Most guys took girls there at night.
Curt Davis had discovered this, and cleverly used the place on week-end afternoons to entertain his girlfriends.
The Porsche bumped over the crude dirt road and branches scraped against the windows as they drove along.
Curt had draped his arm around Barbie's shoulders now and was talking casually to her, getting her to relax.
He had turned on the radio, and Billy Joel was crooning "The Stranger" over the speakers in the back of the Porsche.
"You got a steady boyfriend, Barbie," Curt asked suddenly, glancing at her.
Barbie gave him a look and said a little coolly, "Would I be here with you if I had a steady boyfriend?"
Curt grinned sheepishly. Hell, the girl had spunk! He liked that. So many of the twits he'd dated were so anxious to please him they gushed and giggled and flattered him constantly, boring him out of his gourd.
It was nice to meet a girl who wouldn't take crap from him. For a change.
Curt shifted in his seat, feeling himself starting to get turned on. His cock was beginning to slowly unfurl in his tight white pants, stretching a bit painfully against his trouser leg.
"Well, here we are!" he said brightly.
They turned the bend and came to a large opening in the trees. An ancient wrought iron fence curled around the edge of the cliff.
Barbie sighed. The view was pretty spectacular. At night, all you could see were the glittering lights of the towns of Chisholm and Jetsondale in the valley below.
Now, the sky was a clear vibrant blue, and the rolling hills looked brown and green and lush. The houses were like small white toy houses, speckling the dark valley in clusters.
"What a beautiful view!" Barbie sighed in rapture.
"I'll say!" Curt echoed.
He was staring greedily at her cleavage, his blue eyes sparkling with lust.