Chapter 4
William Warfield spied on Cindy - his daughter.
It was night. Cindy was going to take a bath before going to bed. She was wrapped in a pink terry robe which was belted at the waist.
The robe's plunging neckline showed the hollow between her breasts, and the round swelling white curves of her bosom. Her breasts jiggled under the robe.
The soft fabric clung to her curves, its hem swirling around her knees. Her legs flashed in graceful strides as she padded barefoot down the hall.
Cindy did not dream that she was being watched. William Warfield was nowhere near her - he was in his private office on the ground floor of this sprawling suburban house. He watched Cindy on the video screen of a closed-circuit TV.
Warfield, a dynamic and aggressive businessman, was the president and founder of a small electronics company specializing in high-precision parts.
He was rich, and able to indulge his habits - and vices.
He had the entire house wired with concealed cameras and wired for sound with hidden microphones. He alone knew the secret.
Last summer, when he was between wives, and Cindy was on a trip to California, Warfield had planted the cameras and microphones.
Carpenters had built concealed panels in the walls. Warfield himself secreted the camera and microphone equipment himself.
He didn't trust the job to anyone else. When the hidden panels were closed, not a sign remained to betray the presence of the spy cameras and bugs.
Warfield's study was a handsome room with wood-paneled walls and thick carpeting. There was a bar, an antique desk, and a handsome mahogany cabinet.
The cabinet looked solid from the outside, but it was really little more than a hollow wooden shell containing the console for his spying devices.
When its lid was unlocked and lifted, a control panel was revealed. There was a video screen, a sound system, and banks of dials and switches.
Warfield now faced the control panel. He was cushioned in the padded depths of his leather recliner as he studied his daughter on the screen.
He had settled in for a long session. It was Friday night - no work tomorrow. The stout oak doors to his study were securely locked and bolted.
Cindy went down the hall. She entered the bathroom, moving out of sight of the camera which scanned the hallway.
Warfield flipped another switch, activating the camera in the bathroom. All the strategic rooms were bugged - the bathrooms, the bedroom, den, cellar, kitchen.
Warfield's only regret was that he had installed a black-and-white TV system, rather than one in color. It was too late to change it now.
A new view filled the screen as the bathroom camera was activated. It was mounted behind a panel in the ceiling, and gave a view of the entire bathroom.
He turned on the switch which controlled the sound. He heard the lock click into place when Cindy turned it.
She leaned forward and turned on the taps. Water streamed from the faucets. She tested the temperature with her hand, adjusting it to her liking.
Warfield squirmed with excitement. His face was red, flushed.
Cindy took bottles from the glass shelves over the deep porcelain tub and opened them and poured lotions and oils into the bathwater. The tub filled quickly. The hidden microphones amplified the sound of running water so efficiently that Warfield felt like he was right in the bathroom with her.
Cindy's back was turned to the camera as she opened her robe and took it off.
"Ahhhhhh ... " Warfield gasped when Cindy's nudity was revealed. There was the lithe elegant curve of her back, the ripe roundness of her perfect bottom, the alluring sight of her long trim legs.
Cindy hung her robe on a hook on the door. She turned. Now he could see her high firm breasts, her narrow waist, her full hips - her pussy.
His face was creased with a hungry expression of need, of aching lust.
His cock quivered in his trousers. His penis and testicles felt heavy, tingling. His member stirred, jerking spasmodically.
Within seconds, a stiff erection strained against the seams of his pants. It throbbed when he put his hand on it and squeezed.
He continued to squeeze it as he watched Cindy. He kneaded the hard rod like he was playing with a lump of clay. It felt good, touching himself there.
The tub was full. Cindy's breasts dangled as she leaned forward to shut off the taps. She straightened up and dipped her toe in the water.
The temperature must have been just right. She stepped into the tub. Her legs bent as she slowly lowered herself into the water.
An expression of pure delight came over her face as she sank in hot water up to her neck. Cindy was a sensual creature ruled by the pleasures of the body.
There were no secrets she held from him. He had witnessed her most private, intimate moments - at least, she had thought that they were private.
He had watched her masturbate. He had watched her fucking and sucking her boyfriends - and her girlfriends. Those were his favorite moments.
There was a video tape recorder built into the console. All he had to do was flip a switch, and whatever scene was on the screen would be put on tape.
He had built up quite a collection of tapes of his daughter. They were steamy. They would have been rated triple-XXX.
He didn't bother to turn on the recorder now. He had plenty of scenes of Cindy in the tub. Still, it was always delightful to watch.
His stiff penis craved more direct stimulation. Warfield reluctantly tore his hot, fascinated gaze from the screen.
He took something out of his desk drawer, handling it reverently as he unfolded it. His hands trembled with eagerness.
It was a pair of black satin panties. They had belonged to Cindy, before he had sneaked down to the basement to steal them.
Cindy assumed they were lost in the wash. She possessed an abundance of clothes and underwear and lingerie, so she never missed them.
Warfield hurried back to his chair, afraid that he might have missed some sweet and precious moment. Cindy was soaping up a washcloth.
Good! He was right on time! Warfield unbuckled his belt, pulled down his zipper, opened his pants. He pulled down his trousers and his shorts.
His bare buttocks pressed against the leather covered seat cushions.
His throbbing, jerking erection jutted from his hips. He opened the panties and pulled them down over his bobbing member.
He hissed through clenched teeth as his red rod was wrapped in the sleek black satin of Cindy's panties. His fist closed around it.
His swollen cock head and shaft were wrapped in black satin - in the precious panties which had touched the softest, most intimate part of his daughter.
Cindy sat up in the tub. A sheen of perspiration shone on her face. Her eyes were all dreamy. Her breasts floated in the water.
She soaped herself up. The washcloth glided over her shining wet skin, rubbing frothy lather on her smooth flesh.
Cindy spent a great deal of time and attention on washing her breasts. She always did. Warfield never got bored watching her, either.
Cindy's breasts shone like they were oiled. They were all slippery from the soap. She lifted them, squeezed them, plumped them up, pulled them apart.
Her nipples stiffened and became erect from her sensual handling. The pink points rose out of the bubbling masses of lather and forth and foam.
Cindy rinsed them off next. She dipped the washcloth in the water, saturating it. She held it over her breasts and squeezed.
Rivulets of water splashed down her breasts, washing away the lather. When she was washed clean, her nipples remained erect.
"Unh ... unh ... unh ... " Warfield manipulated his stiff penis, caressing it with the shimmering black satin of the panties, stroking, stroking.
Cindy lifted her leg out of the water, arching it. She rested her foot on the edge of the tub.
Once more she lathered up the washcloth. She scrubbed her legs with the same slow, loving attention and care she had devoted to her breasts.
Warfield could see between her legs when she spread them to wash. He chewed his lower lip as he pulled and kneaded his pulsing erection.
After she rinsed her thighs, she was ready to bathe the most intimate part of her body. She bent her legs and leaned against the back of the tub.
She lifted her hips out of the water in front. Water ran down the folds of her pussy lips. Her bush, sopping wet, was dark from the water.
Cindy smiled wickedly as she took the bar of soap and put it between her legs. The soap was as white as polished ivory.
She rubbed it along her pussy lips. Delight spasmed on her face. She lathered up a mass of white foam on her lips and her bush.
She spent a very long time rubbing that soap into her flesh.
Warfield shuddered. He could not hold back for one more second. He furiously pulled his penis, twisting and rubbing his stiff member.
He came. He went rigid as semen spurted inside the crotch of Cindy's panties.
Warfield groaned. Even if there had been someone standing outside his study, they never would have heard him - the room was soundproofed.
An eavesdropper does not like to be eavesdropped upon.
Semen gushed thickly, spurting into the panties. They were wrapped around his cock head, so that no semen spilled out from them.
Warfield sagged back in his chair. His eyes were slits in his red face and his open mouth moaned softly. His cock throbbed as he squeezed it.
He slouched in the contoured recliner chair, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling as he breathed. He looked like he was sleeping.
Time passed, one minute, two. His eyes opened. They were glazed, shining. He gasped as he forced himself to sit upright.
His eyes widened when he saw Cindy. She had finished washing her pussy. Now she knelt in the tub, soaping up her buttocks.
The hemispheres of smooth white flesh jiggled as she rubbed frothy lather into them. She pulled her buttocks open.
She scrubbed the cleft of her ass. She twirled a corner of the washcloth into a point and pushed it inside her tight and tiny anus.
Warfield would have been delighted to clean her out with his tongue.
She was a very hygienic girl - she cleaned herself outside and inside. She rinsed the last of the soap off her buttocks.
Cindy rose out of the tub, fat droplets of water rolling down the fissures and curves of her flesh. She wrapped a towel around her.
Warfield took that opportunity to unwrap the panties from his stiff penis. He twisted them as he took them off, so his semen would not spill.
His cock head shone with the stuff. He glimpsed a puddle of milky white semen floating in the crotch of the panties.
He folded them carefully and set them aside. Later, as he always did after these sessions, he would wash the panties clean by hand in the sink.
His cock was semi-erect, red, throbbing. It pulsed as it lay along his thigh. He felt lazy, sleepy, satisfied.
Cindy toweled herself vigorously. Her scrubbed flesh shone brightly. Her bush was damp but fluffy. She wiped water from her inner thighs.
She glowed with good health. Momentarily satisfied, his lust dormant and resting, Warfield was able to admire the natural sculptured beauty of her body.
Cindy wrapped herself in the terry robe and exited the bathroom.
Warfield knew her routine. Cindy would sit in front of the mirror in her room, naked, drying and styling her hair with the blower.
He reached for the switch to activate the camera hidden in Cindy's bedroom, to pick up the show at the next stage.
On impulse, he decided to look in on his new wife, Grace. She had proven to be a source of unexpected delight with the secret urges of her private life.
She thought it was private. But Warfield was the only person in the house who enjoyed true privacy, free from unseen and unknown spying eyes.
He flipped the switches, changing over to the next camera in line when he found that the room was empty of Grace. He found her in the basement.
Grace was his third wife. His first wife had passed away from natural causes when Cindy was ten. His second wife was a bi-sexual wanton.
It was his hot-blooded second wife, with her taste for young girls, who had corrupted Cindy - or awakened her to sexual enjoyment, depending on the point of view.
Warfield had known all along about Karen, his wife, and what she was doing to Cindy. She initiated the girl shortly after she reached puberty.
Warfield was glad. His daughter was receiving as fine an education in amorality and hedonism as she could get anywhere.
But Karen was too greedy, too grasping. She had assumed, mistakenly, that she could control and manipulate Warfield as she did the other men.
In those days, they lived in another house. His equipment had been less sophisticated back then - he used hidden movie cameras and two-way mirrors.
Karen tried to start a ruckus when he told her he was divorcing her. She had gone white-faced and gasping when she saw the films he had of her.
Thanks to the films, which had captured Karen making love to his very young and very naked teenager daughter, Warfield had Karen by the short hairs.
She mutely accepted the small settlement of money he gave her, and gave him an uncontested divorce. He kept custody of Cindy.
Grace was his latest wife. There had been many women and girls before he married her. She was a hot-blooded little number who kept him amused.
He found her in the basement recreation room. There was a bar with stools along a wall. Grace sat on a stool, her legs crossed, gulping a drink.
She was in her early thirties. She had long black hair, a strikingly attractive face, and a wickedly luscious body.
Her hair was cut simply, in a sweeping brunette curve which grazed her shoulders. Her face was elegant, exquisite, with the profile of a fashion model.
She had arched eyebrows, a long straight nose, and pouting bee-stung lips. Her skin was stretched taut on the chiseled bones of her face.
She wore a tight-fitting one-piece print dress. It was hardly matronly - but then, he hadn't married her because she would make a good wife and mother.
She did make an absolutely delicious human toy. He had high hopes for her.
She was a selfish, amoral, greedy little bitch. That was good. She had few scruples or ethics to trouble her - particularly in bed.
When he was finished molding her, she would be perfect for his needs.
He was pleased to see that she did not disappoint him now. She was not alone.
A man was with her, a young man - his nephew. James was a handsome, lazy young fellow who hated work the way he hated poison.
He was also a most vigorous and accomplished bedroom athlete. James didn't know that some of his best performances were recorded on tape.
From the way he was hovering over Grace, it looked as though he was about to add to the collection. Warfield activated the recorder.
The images picked up by the video camera were recorded on the reel of tape. Warfield settled in to watch the show.
James was in his late twenties. His short brown hair was razor-cut, carefully styled. He had rugged good looks and a lithe, strong body.
He wore a suit and tie. The suit was custom-made - he never bought suits off the rack. Why should he? - after all, it was his uncle's money.
William Warfield had hired James for a no-show job with his company. James didn't know that his salary was actually a stud fee for all the enjoyment Warfield had gotten out of watching the young man fuck the females in his family.
Grace didn't know that Cindy had seduced James - but Warfield did. It was all on tape - and what a hot tape that was!
Warfield would have loved to see Cindy's face if she ever found out that her lover was getting some on the side from her step-daughter.
He settled in to watch the show. He could always return to Cindy later.
James set his drink down on the bar. He stood behind Grace. He slipped his arm around her narrow waist and nuzzled her hair.
A slow smile of pleasure curved her ripe red lips. She reached down and put her hand between his legs, fondling his member.
They discussed whether or not it was safe for them to be intimate.
Grace told him not to worry. Her husband was closeted away in his study, and wouldn't come out for hours, as was his usual custom.
James asked about Cindy. Grace told him that Cindy was bathing and doing her hair, which would keep her safely occupied for a while.
That sounded fine to James. Grace had teased and stroked his cock to full bulging erection. He fondled her breasts through her dress.
She turned on the stool to kiss him. He embraced her. Their open mouths met. Their jaw muscles flexed as they rubbed tongues.
Warfield noted with amusement that James closed his eyes during the kiss, while Grace kept hers open. James put his hand on her thighs.
He pushed up her skirt. Grace wore no pantyhose or stockings, so her legs were bare. She was of medium height, with a lushly abundant body.
James lifted her off the stool and set her on her feet. She wrapped her arms around his broad upper back while they continued to kiss.
He dropped his hand from the small of her back to her bottom. He patted the round globes which thrust against the taut fabric of her dress.
After a moment of passionate kissing, Grace broke off the embrace.
With practiced skill she pulled down his zipper and slipped her hand inside. James moaned softly as she pulled his erection through the flyhole.
He wanted to take down his pants, but she warned him against it. She was sure they would not be interrupted, but accidents do happen.
It was wiser for him to be able to recover quickly if someone should come down to the basement. They would hear whoever it was, and be able to cover up.
Grace's high heels clicked on the linoleum as she crossed the floor to a pool table. James trotted after her, his exposed erection bobbing.
She positioned herself so that she was facing the bottom of the stairs. Warfield chuckled to himself at her laughable precautions.
Talk about locking the barn door after the horse was stolen! Grace's defenses were useless, with a spy camera following her every move.
She leaned forward from the waist. Her lush breasts strained against the fabric of her dress, dangling heavily like melons of flesh.
Her physique excited Warfield. She had heavy breasts, a narrow waist, wide womanly hips, and lithe, strong legs.
Grace placed her palms on the bumper of the pool table. She spread her feet and looked hotly over her shoulder at her lover.
James came up in back of her. He pulled her skirt up high on her back. A pair of black lace bikini panties was stretched across her hips.
Her ass was rounded and luscious. James fondled her bottom, her hips, her thighs. He pulled her panties down, baring her white rounded bottom.
Grace smeared saliva on her hand and rubbed it into her pussy.
She was hot and eager for action. She wasted not a second of their valuable time together with foreplay, and immediately got down to business.
Her buttocks jiggled as she shook her bottom from side to side invitingly.
She took hold of his stiff cock and pulled him to her. He rubbed his hard member against her ass cheeks. Now he gasped with excitement.
He brought his cock head down to her pussy. Grace impatiently hissed at him to begin. She moaned as his cock head grazed her labia.
The red head of his swollen cock was a wedge of warm flesh which split Grace's pussy lips, spreading them to the sides as his shaft sank into them.
Her face was taut with hunger and need. Her masses of black hair fanned out over the felt of the pool table as she hung her head.
She pushed back, meeting him halfway. Her head jerked upward as he thrust his stiff shaft deep inside her pussy, ramming it home.
His face was dark and flushed and swollen. He spread his feet for better balance and took hold of her hips. He thrust back and forth.
Warfield thought that it was a pity that the couple had not stripped before sex, but of course their circumstances did not allow the luxury of a prolonged session.
That was a pity, since they were both gifted with splendid physiques - a pair of hot, healthy human animals.
Since only his stiff cock was exposed and sticking out of his open fly hole, it looked as though James was fully dressed in his suit and tie.
He must have gotten pretty hot, because he hastily pulled off his suit jacket and dropped it on the floor. He thrust faster and harder.
Dark circles of sweat widened under his arms as he continued thrusting his stiff cock deep into the heated core of Grace's pussy.
She rocked her hips violently, shoving them back, forth, and sideways. She was easily a match for his aggressive lust - perhaps more than a match.
It was exciting to watch them. There was Grace - his wife - fully clothed from the waist up. Her head was buried in her arms, which were folded on the pool table.
From the waist down she was naked, except for the rolled line of her panties and the high heeled shoes which accented the contours of her legs.
James took her from behind. Fully clothed, he handled Grace, touching her breasts, hips, buttocks and thighs with practiced familiarity.
Her buttocks, all white and shining, rippled as his hips slammed into them each time he buried his cock deep in her pussy.
Warfield caught quick blurred glimpses of his nephew's cock as it pumped in and out of his wife's pussy. James had a look of intense concentration on his face.
Grace crossed over her orgasmic threshold and climaxed.
She jerked her head up as she came. Her face was taut and strained, her eyes tightly shut, her mouth open wide. Hair fell on her face.
James pushed his penis deep into her for the final thrust. He shivered as his orgasm hit him. A cry of passion was ripped from deep in his throat.
Grace shook her head from side to side, her hair whipping across the felt surface of the pool table. She hissed through clenched teeth.
James molded his body to hers. He hugged her, his stiff cock still planted deep inside her. The lovers writhed ecstatically.
Warfield smiled with tolerant understanding for the simple and intense passions of the young couple. Their sexual needs were simple and basic.
His own needs were infinitely more complex and intricate. Both James and Grace played important roles in his sexual scheme of things - and so did Cindy.
James and Grace sobbed for breath, dazed by the force of the orgasm they mutually shared. They sighed from the hot sweetness of afterglow.
Time passed. Grace finally stopped panting long enough to warn James that they could not risk being found like this - they must separate.
James followed that command literally. He straightened up and pulled his hips back, withdrawing his erection from inside Grace.
He moaned from the pleasure of his cock gliding over her creamy membranes. Her pussy lips were pushed outward when his cock head came free of them.
The labia closed immediately after the fleshy intruder was removed. Grace groaned with longing. Her pussy lips, shining with semen, quivered.
That was just about it - this show was over.
For an instant, Warfield thought about wandering down from his study and surprising James and Grace. Their consternation would be devilishly amusing.
Still, they could wait. His plans for them were developing nicely.
He flipped the switch to pick up the camera hidden in Cindy's room. It was positioned over her bed, for obvious reasons.
Cindy sat up in bed, reading. A gauzy pink nightie wrapped her upper body, clinging to her curves, outlining her nipples, which were now flat.
Warfield feasted his eyes on the lovely vision of her face and form.
He had plans for Cindy, too - long-delayed plans which would soon begin.