Chapter 3
Seventy-two hours after she weighed anchor, after three balmy nights of slicing through the blue-black and moonlit waters off Southern California and Baja, The Princessa cruised into its berth at Puerto Vallarta. The Pacific Deck, the dock, came alive with bare-chested, stocky Mexican deckhands. Heavy ropes sang through the air. The winches at stem and stern cranked noisily. The anchors dropped. The loud speaker system, talking funnels hidden in odd places all over the yacht, introduced the captain-a weatherworn giant everyone had met a cocktail hour in the Grand Salon the first night out-who announced a twenty-three-hour stopover, and warned, in a grave voice, as if disobedience would bring dire consequences, that all vacationers were to be back on board before sailing time at 10 next morning.
Alicia had talked Dave into sleeping aboard the yacht-a passenger choice-and using the hotel money thus saved for souvenirs, bric-a-brac from the barrage of open-air shops along the wharf, and the necklace which looked like the painstaking handiwork of an ancient Aztec jeweler ... even if it was not!
While Dave and Joey and Nancy took a jeep ride inland, into the jungle which she preferred not to see, Alicia shopped, walked the waterfront streets, and, at the heat of midday, climbed into a bikini, and spread a towel on the beach within walking distance of The Princessa. After a leisurely dip in the bay, amid people she'd seen aboard the yacht and shouting Mexican children of every size and hue, she rubbed suntan oil over her body and prepared to get golden.
But as she lay down on her stomach, the white bikini wet and stuck in all the right places, she noticed a boy, a dark, Mexican lad-about Joey's age, she supposed-watching her with dark, steady eyes. He wore ragged white beachcomber pants and sat on the hull of a capsized and rotting fishing boat about fifty yards down the beach.
Alicia shivered. Goosebumps broke out on her skin. She turned her face away in the opposite direction, closed her eyes. Now she felt his gaze on her back, her ass. She grew warm ... partially because of the orange sun blazing overhead, but mostly because she knew the youngster was watching.
"Darn!" she grumbled, trying to ignore the familiar tightness in her belly. Was she oversexed, she wondered, A nymphomaniac? First Manny, even before the cruise was underway, then Dave and Manny again-later in the day in his cabin, the Capri Deck-and now ... ?
But no matter how hard she tried to ignore the tightness, the warmth spreading rapidly through her lower abdomen, the knowledge of being watched, ogled by hungry male eyes-no matter that the eyes belonged to a boy her own son's age-made her turn back to the small, capsized fishing boat.
The boy was gone from the hull. There were other boys running and bathing in the same area, but not the boy. Perplexed, Alicia sat up, shielded her eyes against the blazing sun and squinted down the beach. Nothing! Not a sign of him! Yet although she couldn't see him, she had the unshakable feeling he was watching her still.
Studying the boat, she noticed the cavelike space between the bow and the sand. Was that a flash of white she saw in the shadows? Was he hiding, she wondered. She was sure of it! He was watching her from some secret place of his own, and doing ... doing....
Alicia's pussy tingled. The bikini bottom was suddenly too tight, too confining. She could imagine the boy ... stiff cock in hand ... jerking himself off while he ogled and pretended he was fucking it into her. The thought angered and excited her. She stood-nonchalantly, so as not to frighten him away-and made her way to the boat by a roundabout way out of sight of where she thought he was hiding.
The dark Mexican boy was, indeed, hiding beneath the capsized boat. And Alicia's guess about him whacking off wasn't far astray. For as she bent and poked her head into the shadows beneath the dank-smelling hull, she saw the boy leaning against the upside-down cabin half buried in sand, eyes closed, brown hand rubbing the ferocious bulge at the fly of the ragged beachcomber pants.
Fascinated by the boy's brazenness, Alicia watched until he doubled over, as if coming in his pants. A tortured look crossed his dark face. His eyes flashed open. He saw her, made a move as if to run, apparently realized there wasn't anyplace to run to, and grinned self-consciously. His teeth were very white and contrasted starkly with his very black eyes. "Buenas tardes," he said.
"Ha! I'll bet it's a good afternoon!" Alicia ducked into the cool shadows beneath the rotting hull. She sniffed. The smell was at once repulsive and pleasing; a mixture of decaying wood, salt, and sand. She looked about. The sand beneath the hull had been scooped out-by the boy, she supposed-and there was just enough height to stand without bending. She glowered at the boy. Feet wide apart, hands on hips, she asked, "Do you do this often? Watch American women and ... well, you know darn well what I mean!"
The boy's, grin-grew wider. The bulge in his pants hadn't diminished. He made no effort to hide it. He studied her for a moment-as a curious puppy surveys the strange goings-on of the humans he finds himself entrusted to-then said, "Si!"
Alicia blinked. "Si?"
"Si! Bella senora." The boy offered his hand.
My God! thought Alicia, staring at the brown fingers no bigger than the fingers on her own son's hand. Did the boy think she was offering herself, she wondered. He had said she was beautiful, she knew. And now it was apparent he didn't comprender: spoke no English, and thought, because she'd followed him under the boat where no one could see them....
The boy stepped forward. Still grinning, the bulge in his pants throbbing beneath the material, he took her hand, and pulled her in the direction of the upended cabin. Alicia held back, not knowing what to do, what to say, but feeling the warmth, the emptiness in her belly, and again wanting a dick to fill the void. The boy rattled off something she didn't understand. Then, before she could open her mouth to protest, he clutched her hand to the stiffness at his crotch.
"Don't! I ... I have a son your age. It's be like ... like fucking Joey."
"Si! Fuck-fuck!" The boy nodded his head enthusiastically. He pumped his hips in an exaggerated fuck motion. "Mucho! Mucho 'Merican pussy."
As astounded as she'd been when Manny dropped to his knees and wrapped his hands around her soft upper thigh, at once reluctant and willing, Alicia allowed the boy-no bigger than Joey, no taller than she-to lead her through the glassless window into the small, stuffy, upended cabin. Inside, the bunk, which had once hung from the wall, she supposed, lay on the sand. Without a word, the boy led her to the improvised bed. And, again as with Manny the day before, before she knew what he was doing or could protest or agree, the boy undid the snaps holding her bikini top, bared her breasts, and glued his hot lips to one nipple.
Alicia hissed air through her teeth. Dizzy, wanting to, not wanting to, she allowed the boy to pull her down to the filthy, hard wooden bunk. The big lips on her nipple sucked deeply, appreciatively. With his hand-the one not holding her fingers closed on his stiffness-the boy covered her other breasts, kneaded. She felt herself falling back, back. She went without resistance. Nor did she remove the hand on his cock when the boy released her fingers, coaxed her thighs apart, and slipped his fingers beneath the elastic leg band at her crotch.
"OWWW!" moaned Alicia.
"Fuck-fuck!" said the boy, spreading the lips of her hot cunt, finding her clit, and rolling the tiny hard-on between thumb and forefinger.
"A baby. No more ... umph! No more than a baby!" Squeezing the bulge in his pants, Alicia closed her eyes and thought about Joey, her son. Was he as aggressive as this boy, she wondered. And such a big cock! She'd seen Joey's cock flaccid, never hard. Now she wondered if Joey's dick was as big, as pulsing and eager as this dark-skinned Mexican lad's.
"Fuck-fuck," whispered Alicia, undoing the mismatched buttons holding the beachcomber pants closed. She freed him, closed her hand on his stiff manhood, gasped. She opened her eyes and stared down at the dark brown thing in her hand. It was uncircumcised. When was the last time she'd been screwed with an uncircumcised prick? She couldn't remember. "Fuck-fuck me good," she told the boy.
Grunting words she didn't understand but which she nonetheless grasped the meaning behind, the boy abandoned her tits and withdrew his hand from the leg band of the bikini. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of the swim-suit bottom. Alicia lifted. The material rustled from her hips, down her legs, off. This time the boy gasped. His eyes grew large. Tentatively, as if unable to believe what he saw, he touched her blonde pussy. "Madre Dios!" he pronounced.
Restlessly Alicia waited while the boy kicked off his pants. He stood over her, dick straight, eyes riveted to the apparently unbelievable phenomenon of a blonde pussy. Was it real, he seemed to be thinking. A wig?
Alicia reached for him. He quickly positioned himself between her parted thighs. She held herself up on her elbows, legs on either side of the wooden bunk, and marveled at the contrast of his dark brown cock at the mouth of her gold pussy. She watched the uncircumcised tip part the pink lips of her cunt, watched the boy's features contort. Then the shaft raked her clit ... going in, in. She moaned and fell back, clutched the boy's sinewy body to her, and lifted her ass to take him deep. He grunted with each eager thrust ... forcing his thick prick up her tight pussy. Alicia planted her feet in the sand on either side of the bunk, and pushed up, up. She worked her inner cunt muscles on his brown meat ... drawing his throbbing young joint all the way up the hot hairy love hole between her quivering thighs.
Alicia was astounded by the youngster's prowess. Although he couldn't tell her what he wanted, not with words, English words, he cupped his hands at the crook of her legs and lifted until the message was conveyed. Alicia lifted her legs, and when her ankles were locked high on his back, his cock hair united with her pubic mound, he gripped the halves of her ass in surprisingly strong hands, inched higher onto his knees, and began fucking his dick into her with all the skill of a seasoned lover.
They fucked for a long time ... the only sounds the sound of their breathing, a sigh, a gasp, the shouts and the waves of Puerto Vallarta, beyond the capsized boat, and, as they neared orgasm and her cunt grew sloppy, the sound of belly slapping against belly and stiff dick stoking a wet twat. Alicia thought about the boys of her youth. She felt the hard thing dipping in and out between her thighs, content to lie there forever, and tried to recall one other boy who'd been as good. But it was useless. There were none to compare with the Mexican lad in the halls of her memory, where the back seats of cars, cum-stained panties and torn bras resided. Again she thought about Joey. It was horrid of her, she knew. There was a word for what she was considering. Incest! But as she moved her hips round and round, grinding her cunt onto the Mexican boy's stiffness, she wondered again, for the tenth time in two days, what Joey, her son, would be like in bed. She envisioned the scene she'd walked in on the day before; Dave and Nancy locked in heated embrace. What would she have found if she'd walked in, say, ten minutes later? The cruise, the freedom of the sea-salt air, he called it-seemed to have worked a wondrous change in Dave. It seemed to have changed each of them. And she didn't doubt for a moment that if she had walked in on Dave and Nancy ten minutes later-perhaps not even that long-Dave would have been doing to Nancy what the dark little Mexican boy was now doing to her.
"Dios! Fuck-fuck!" The boy let her ass down onto the hard bunk, and fell with his lips, his tongue, seeking her mouth.
"Yes. Oh, yes. Fuck-fuck hard. Mucho hard fuck-fuck!" Alicia kissed him. She accepted his tongue, sucked. She tightened her legs on his waist She took his long dick, worked it ... milking him toward climax. She felt the tip expand, pop all the way out of its jacket inside her. She squeezed her cunt tight ... yelling into his mouth as the first spurt shot off and brought her to breathless orgasm. She strained, lifted her bottom and grinded and grinded her pussy against his coarse cock hair. She felt the hot semen coat the walls of her twitching cunt ... seep down and out and into the crack of her ass. She moaned, bucked her hips, seeking more. And as the last of the boy's load boiled off in her belly, filling and overflowing her sheath, flooding her with warmth, she wondered what Dave and Nancy were doing ... in the jungle, forest the travel brochures called a "romantic retreat," beyond the city and the boy gasping fuck-fuck above her.
The jeep ride was hot and dusty and endless, it seemed. But they did reach the end; a wall of tall trees, tangled vines and shadowy color-mostly greens, but with flashes of red and yellow and blue as birds Dave had no names for winged by overhead. The trees separated the dirt road from what seemed to be a primeval forest. And there was to be an hour-long stopover before the drive back, the driver said. He warned each of them not to wander out of shouting distance, sat against the base of a shadetree, lighted another of the thin, evil-smelling cigarillos he'd been smoking since they left the city, and preceded to systematically ignore them.
Joey, flanked by the Sawyer twins-fourteen-year-old raven-haired lovelies, with high, pointed breasts, and hips and round buttocks which refused to be daunted by the matching bright yellow shorts they wore-headed for the footpath, at the end of which, the driver had said, lay a fresh water lake.
"C'mon, Sam, for crying out loud," insisted Barbara Sawyer hotly. "We came along with the girls to see the darn jungle so let's go see the stupid jungle."
Sam wiped sweat from his doughy face. Amused, Dave watched the rotund businessman hold back. Barbara Sawyer was, Dave estimated, ten years Sam's junior; built like her teenage daughters, with the same high breasts, long blue-black hair, huge hazel eyes and clear complexion. She, too, wore shorts ... hot pants. Her fat little cunt formed a delectable V at the crotch. And no matter how hard he tried to envision it, Dave couldn't imagine the chubby, balding Sam Sawyer, obviously exhausted from the jeep ride, humping between Barbara's well-turned girlish legs.
"C'mon, Daddy," said Nancy, taking his hand and tugging as Barbara stormed off into the jungle alone.
Dave eyed the minx. He allowed her to drag him toward the footpath slicing like a wedge of pie into the shadowy jungle. Nancy had managed to squeeze herself into jeans she'd outgrown the year before, and the round white patches in back, hugging her buttocks and the tight split between, made him recall the scene Alicia had walked in on the day before. He recalled the warmth of Nan's crotch, remembered how she pressed it against the hard bulge in his pants. The bulge was back, too. It had begun to grow toward the end of the ride, when Barbara Sawyer, sitting in the back of the jeep, lifted one foot onto the seat and gave him a glimpse of her hairy, midnight black pussy. The twins had added to his excitement. Sitting on either side of Joey atop the backrest in back, they had shown him the creamy insides of their thighs without inhibition. All through the jeep ride, he was surrounded by cunt, titties, and thigh. And now, as Nancy led him into the shade of the jungle, smiling back at him as the brush grew thicker, alive with noisy, unseen forest creatures, his cock began to jerk and ache.
They came out of the brush at a clearing on the edge of the fresh water lake. Barbara, sitting astraddle a huge rock, watched Joey and the twins wade close to shore. The wading soon became a water-splashing contest. Within minutes, the twins were drenched. The yellow shorts clung. Joey taunted them into deeper water. And finally, all restraint disappearing, the girls, shouting like banshees, dove and swam after their tormentor.
Dave watched Barbara lie down on the grass and shielded her eyes from the sun. The sight of the girls soaking wet, and now Mrs. Sawyer, had made the stiff thing in his pants begin to pulse furiously. Nancy! he thought, trying not to look for her, but unable to forget what had happened the day before. He could imagine the hard meat in his pants forcing its way into the hot slit below her springy brown pussy.
Nancy squeezed his arm. "Let's find someplace all our own, Daddy. In the jungle. Where no one can see."
Dave looked deep into her wide brown eyes. She was beautiful, he thought; except for the hair and the eyes, exactly like Alicia. Alicia way back when they first met, first fucked. "What in hell would we do in the jungle?" he asked, hoping she'd say it, make it easy for him.
Nancy grinned. Her color deepened. Her gaze darted down to his crotch. She chewed her lip. "We could finish talking about what we were talking about yesterday when Mummy came in, Sex and all."
Christ! Dave thought. His own daughter! He felt her tiny hand close on his fingers, hesitated. What he was thinking, what Nan was thinking, was insane. Perverted! But she was so willing, so anxious. And she was, right then, bathed in soft green shadow from the ceiling of branches and vines, the most beautiful little thing, flushed and radiant and....
What little will-power he possessed was sapped by the sight of her pink tongue. It darted out to moisten her lips as she looked from his cock to his face, and began tugging him backward ... toward the heavy underbrush.
Dave followed the round white patches along the footpath, then off, under the low-hanging branches of a tree. He looked about. They were in a leafy place surrounded by vines and thick brush, and out of sight of the path. Buzzing insects. Here and there a faint rustle. Again he looked into Nan's eyes. She held his hand still: a tenseness in her little-girl fingers, and a shyness now in her big baby doll eyes. "Is ... is it talk you want, honey?" he asked in a hoarse, unfamiliar voice. "Or something else? Some ... something hard! Something you felt between your legs yesterday!"
Nan staggered, almost fell into his arms. "Daddy," she whispered. "It ... it's so wonderful here. Alone. I wish we could stay forever. Just me and you. No one else. Ever."
Again, as had happened the day before, Dave felt his daughter's hot little crotch against the maniac bulge in his pants. Was she moving? God! Was he imagining it or did he detect a slight rotation in the hips in the tight jeans? He held her, hands on her waist, reluctant to go any farther. She's your daughter! he kept telling himself. Your daughter! Your own fucking daughter!
Nancy rid him of the last ounce of conscience. "You can do anything you want," she breathed against his shirt. "I won't stop you. I want you to do anything you ... you want to me. No one can see us here. No one can stop us like Mummy stopped us yesterday. Do it, Daddy. Do what you started yesterday."
"Baby." Dave lifted her small chin. As she closed her eyes, soft lips atremble, waiting, he experienced one last doubt. Then his hand brushed her breast. It was hard ... the little pink nipple, the adorable peak he'd seen so many nights when she left the bathroom door open, fought to be free of the frilly crop top. He pressed his lips gently to hers. His hand dropped to the loose waist of the crop top, crept under. His fingers encountered warm, pliant young flesh. There was no bra. No bra!
Nancy moaned as his fingers closed on her taut nipple. Her moist lips opened. She breathed her sweet breath into his mouth. The hip movement he thought he detected a moment before became more pronounced ... undeniable. Dave stopped thinking. Stopped caring. Nothing mattered except the willing young body pressed close to the hardness aching to be sheathed.
Mashing her lips, driving his tongue deep into her mouth, Dave moved his free hand from her wasp waist to the soft, round halves of her bottom. He kneaded; first one cheek, then the other, then traced the seam of the jeans up the hot crack of her ass. Without breaking the kiss, the hold, he took her gently down to the blanket of grass and leaves on the forest floor. They toppled together ... side by side ... pressed close. He rammed the stiff bulge in his pants into the space at the top and between her young girl thighs.
For a moment, Dave was content to dry fuck the beautiful child he'd watched grow from infancy. He recalled the first time she left the bathroom door open and he realized, somewhat astounded, awed by the sight, that she had hair on her pussy. He felt her adorable ass, explored every contour as he recalled how hard his dick got that first time he saw her. He played with her titties ... recalling how they had sprouted, slowly, all nipple at first, then one day all pinkness on gorgeous white hillocks. He sucked her mouth ... thinking how wonderful it would be if she sucked him, his cock. He sawed his stiff dick in and out between the worn denim, and thought, ANYTHING! Hadn't she said anything he wanted?
Nancy mewed into his mouth as his fingers found and worked the zipper at her fly. She gasped when his hand stole inside and cupped the hot mound of pouting pussy and hair made softer and even more tantalizing by the white, unadorned, little-girl panties she wore. He rubbed ... working her and himself to the height of desire ... not sure now which hot hole, mouth or vulva, he wanted more, and remembering a third tiny aperture.
Dave broke the kiss. With difficulty, he shimmied the tight pants from her hips, down her thighs, off. He stared. Now only the cotton panties covered her sex. Tiny brown curls peeked from the leg band. The material was darker, puffy, damp at the crotch. He touched the waistband.
"Oh. Hurry, Daddy," begged Nancy.
"Are you ... have you ever been ... ?"
"Uh-uh." Lower lip caught between her teeth, eyes tightly closed, Nancy rolled onto her back and lifted to make it easier for him to get the panties off. "Do it quick, Daddy. Put it in me. Put...."
"Jesus! I ... I can't take your cherry. I can't!" Dave sat up; trying not to look at her, trying to control the hard thing in his lap. "Fucking you, my own daughter, is bad enough," he blurted. "But your cherry. Your cherry! I ... I'd never be able to live with myself if I took that!"
Nancy, too, sat up. She fell across him, face nuzzling his shirt, tiny hand on the bulge at his crotch. "But I want you to. More than anything. Please, Daddy. PLEEZE!"
Before Dave could object-if he would have objected, he wasn't quite sure of anything anymore-the tiny hand at his fly had the zipper open and was lost to the wrist inside the pants.
"Ah! Baby, you ... ahhhhhhhhhhh!"
"It's so hard." Nancy drew his stiff bloated cock from its hiding place. "Oh, Daddy. I used to wonder if it was really this big or if the pants only made it look that way. I watch you all the time. And every time it gets hard, every time you and Mummy screw-like yesterday, after she came in and you went in the next cabin...."
"Christ! How in hell do you know about that?"
"I watched through the keyhole," confessed Nancy. "Me and Joey watch all the time when you do it at home. But yesterday was best. 'Cause I was so hot. And the way you were screwing, her on top and all, I could see it go all the way in. I love your thing, Daddy. I ... I dream about it going in me all the time." She closed her cool fingers on the fat glans ... craned her neck, wanting to be kissed.
Hungrily Dave eyed her crotch ... the tiny curls protruding from the white panties. The waistband sat low on her belly. He wanted to kiss her there ... lower ... burrow his tongue, his nose, his face in her bush. He wanted to fuck his hard dick up her virgin hole ... make her thrash and cry out. He wanted to do all the things a man has no right to do to his daughter, and invent new ways to commit the joy of union.
"Will ... will you do anything I want?" he asked finally. "Anything? Like you said?"
"Uhhuh."
"Then lay on your belly. On the ground."
Nancy blinked. She stared for a long time, confusion in her eyes, a frown marring her clear, innocent features. Then she obeyed, lay full length on the grass ... creamy young thighs slightly parted ... lovely buttocks forming a magnificent cushion.
With trembling hands, Dave bared her plump, little-girl bottom. It was so white! Whiter than the undergarment, it seemed. And the crack, small, dimpled at top, and displaying brown puffs of gauze where the cheeks grew heavy and joined the top of her thighs. It was an ass he'd seen many times but never before considered for what he now was thinking. An ass he adored. An ass he now wanted to bust open with the full driving force of his cock.
When she was naked from the waist down, the panties hung from a nearby twig Dave kicked off his pants, his shorts, his shoes, and fell onto her back. His dick touched the hot crack. He gasped. He took hold of the monster, spread her legs, and moved the fat head to the tuft of soft hair at her anus. "Nancy, baby," he choked. "Lift up, sweetheart. Raise your belly. Help Daddy, Help me get it up your...."
"Oh, Daddy, no go! Not there. Anywhere but ... oh! OW, DON'T!"
But it was too late to stop now. For Dave had already managed to stretch the sphincters enough to get the glans wedged in her tight, puckered pink asshole. And the feel of her, the little-girl heat, the way she was moving-trying to escape but doing nothing more than to make herself more vulnerable-spurred him on. He gripped her waist, held her firmly to the ground, and forced his dick up her tight, tighter than tight, rectum of his daughter.
"It won't gooo!" wailed Nancy as his prick forced its way halfway up her hot bottom. Her delectable ass quivered. Her shoulders arched. She looked back at him with tearful, little-girl hurt in her eyes.
Dave relented some. "Get up on your elbows and knees," he told her. "It'll go ... ah! Go in easier that way. Be nice to Daddy, sweetheart. It's so fucking asshole good I ... um!" Despite his resolve to ease up, he thrusted ... driving another hard, painful inch up her brown.
"OWWWWWWWWWWWW!" Nancy's hips bucked. Her hot tiny asshole closed like a frightened mollusk.
"Do like I said, baby. Daddy won't hurt you. Get up on your elbows and knees. Open your hole for me." Dave suspended his weight on outstretched hands, waited.
"Aw ... awright, Daddy," said Nancy at last. "I ... I'll do what you want. Anything. Only ... only be gentle with me."
The pleading note in her voice made Dave wild. He wanted to drive his hard dick all the way in without waiting. But he held back. He let her raise up on. elbows and knees, and kneeled close behind. He glanced down. Dots of bright sunlight, showing through the ceiling of leaves, danced off her alabaster cheeks. He marveled at the smoothness, the softness of her flesh. His hands moved over her hips. He gripped her waist firmly. "That's it, Nancy. Sweet little Nancy baby," he said, gaze riveted to the tiny pink hole the swollen head of his prick was embedded in. "Now push back and help Daddy get it up. All the way up your belly. Help me, honey."
"It ... it's so big!" breathed Nancy. Tentatively she wiggled her hips. "Oh! It ... it'll never go, Daddy. Not all the way. Not ... owww! Not because I don't want you to, but ... OHEEEEEE! It's so long. So ... OW! So big and hard!"
Holding her hips, crazy with the sight of her, Dave drove. His dick ground slowly in. His nuts ached to unload. He could hardly stand the delicious feeling, the sight of her opening for his meat. He pumped up, up ... watching the stiff cylinder stretch the mouth of her hot, virgin asshole.
"Daddy! Oh, Daddy it hur-urts!"
"Almost ... oh, Jesus! Almost home now, honey. Keep ... ahhh! Keep on wiggling your hips. Push it all the way back. Open for me." Dave retreated. His shit-smeared cock slid smoothly out of her asshole. He watched the tight hole breathe on the nozzle tip. He watched her shiver. He gritted his teeth, thrusted.
"Dad-deeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
Again Dave thrusted. His prick bored relentlessly in ... spreading her tender, little-girl cheeks ... opening, stretching her delicious tightness. She sobbed, tried to fall forward. He held her. Again he pulled back until the knob of his joint almost popped from the delectable sheath and, with one last, mightily lunge, rammed the last hard inch up her pulsating pink asshole.
A tremor passed through the girl's inexperienced young body. She looked back at him ... wide-eyed, breathing in gasps. "Is ... is it all the way in?"
"Um! And so fucking good. Your hole ... ahhhhhhhh! The hottest ... oh, Christ! Christ Jesus! It's the tightest, hottest little shitter...."
"Better than Mummy's?"
"Your mother never ... she doesn't like it this way."
"Then I'll let you do it to me all the time, Daddy. It'll be our ... ow! Our special way." Nancy gyrated her adorable ass. Slowly. Still displaying a modicum of reluctance. "I love you, Daddy," she sighed. "M-make me a woman. Your woman. H-hurt me if you want."
Dave groaned. She was beautiful. Willing. His to do with as he pleased. He reached around and under her belly to her soft pussy. His fingers searched through the hair, found and opened the slit, and fingered her clit.
"Ohohoh!" Nancy's hips bucked. Her wet little cunt nipped his fingertips. Her rectum began to apply feathery brushstrokes on the stiff length of meat in her belly.
Dave could hold back no longer. Fingering her hot pussy, he pulled back and began pounding his stiffness all the way in and out. Her rectum grew slippery. He drove his long cock in to the hilt, retreated, drove home. In-out! In-out! He worked her hard little clit. And as his thrusts grew more forceful, each advance jarring her forward; Nancy, too, began to move faster. Her hips matched his rhythm. Her cunt snapped ... sucking the tips of his probing fingers. And her asshole, the fiery little pocket between her quivering cheeks, became a professor of fucking, and coached the cum, the hot, sticky cream, up from his tortured nuts.
"Nan, baby. Jesus! Jesus! Jesus baby!" Dave doubled over, fell gasping onto her back as the cream blasted from the glans of his cock. He cupped her hairy cunt, fingered ... bringing her to orgasm, too. He held his dick planted ... mashed coarse cock hair against her sweet split and shot and shot until he thought sure there wasn't an ounce of semen left in his cubes. Then Nancy, moaning, grinding her round bottom on his shaft, did something inside, something which made him dizzy, breathless, and his meat, bloated beyond recognition, began to blast all over again.
They rested. Dave felt his cock go slightly limp in her rectum. "Lay flat," he told her.
Nancy obeyed. She fell onto the warm grass and leaves, little legs spread wide. Her cheeks closed on his meat ... tighter ... making him a part of her. She craned her neck, offering her parted pink lips. "Do it again, Daddy," she said. "Fuck me some more. Any way you want to."
Dave kissed her. Gently. Then harder and passionately because the muscles deep in her rectum were bringing him back to full stiffness. He heard her labored breathing--heard the rustling animal sounds of the primeval forest and, in the distance, the shouts and sounds of Joey and the Sawyer twins. Now he thought about Alicia. Alicia and Joey. What would it be like, he wondered, to screw Nancy, sweet, hot-assed Nancy, while watching Joey plow a cock into Alicia's blonde pussy?
Joey swam around and around the lake until Gwen gave up and climbed out and left only Connie behind him. The wet pants, his T-shirt, were an encumbrance. He was tiring. His gaze settled on a patch of shadow beneath a tree with branches drooping far out over the water. He stroked toward it. Connie followed. She was a good swimmer, he thought. He glanced back ... watched her kick up foam and gain as she sliced through the cool, clear water. Strong legs! he mused. He could imagine the hot hairy slit atop and between them.
"Chicken!" yelled Connie as he swam into the shadow. She splashed rapidly toward him, long black hair plastered to her small, round head, lovely face.
Heart thumping from the swim and the prospect of getting the girl alone where no one could see them, Joey waited until she reached the place where the shadow turned the clear water deep green. He went under. He scissored beneath the girl, watched the tight yellow shorts go by overhead. He came up behind her, shouted and forced her under.
Connie came up sputtering. "Fucko!" she hollered, grappling. The sleeveless blouse clung to her high, jutting breasts. Laughing and trying to duck him, she allowed herself to be steered into shallow water, near the lake bank.
Joey glanced swiftly about. As he suspected when choosing the niche, the drooping branches hid the place from view. Neither Mrs. Sawyer nor Gwen could see them. And there was a solid wall of brush a few feet in from the grassy bank ... thus insuring against detection. He ogled Connie's tits.
"Don't try it," warned Connie, backing into knee-deep water, close to shore.
"Try what?"
"What you're thinking. I see where you're looking. So don't get any ideas."
Grinning, Joey released one of her hands and made a swift grab for a tit. His fingertips brushed the place where the hard nipple showed through the blouse and bra. Milicent Waters had instilled him with brazen confidence and he had made up his mind, the minute they climbed into the jeep, he was going to screw at least one of the Sawyer twins. Connie's playful reluctance merely heightened his resolve.
"You'll get my shorts dirty." Connie staggered back and sat on the bank with a loud splat! "C'mon, NO!" she objected, smacking his hands away from her firm boobs. She sat with legs wide apart, feet in the water, the fat swell of her young girl pussy showing through the wet shorts.
Joey eyed the thin patch of material where her thighs came together. The shorts were darker there. Boldly he said, "If you're worried about getting your shorts dirty, take 'em off. I won't do nothin'."
"Oh, sure."
"Nothin' you don't want me to do." He watched her gaze dart furtively to his crotch. He wasn't hard yet but his cock was beginning to pulse and he knew, before very long, his meat would be stiff and ready to burst from the fly.
"I'll take off my shorts and blouse if you promise not to fool around," said Connie.
Joey's limp cock jerked. "What kind of fool around?"
"You know. I ... I'll let you feel me. But not the other. And you have to get undressed, too. But not everything. Just the pants and shirt."
"Ain't you never been fucked?"
Connie reddened. "Yes! But only by my boyfriend. Nobody else. Promise you won't?"
Dick growing rapidly, Joey assured her. He'd read books about girls like Connie; girls who kept saying no and really meant yes. Once he got her clothes off, he knew, got to feeling her body and talking about sex, she'd open her legs without the slightest resistance. "Okay," he said, watching her toy with the buttons down the front of the blouse.
"You first," Connie said.
Joey shrugged. Peeling off the wet T-shirt, he tossed it onto the bank, and then watched her proceed to unbutton the blouse. When the last button opened, he tossed his pants, too, onto the bank. He suppressed a desire to rip off the shorts and watch her reaction at first glimpse of his naked manhood.
Refusing to meet his eyes, Connie stood. The blouse came off her shoulders, revealing a bra which did nothing to conceal her breasts. She tossed the blouse onto the bank. Her gaze touched his crotch. Hurriedly looking away, down at the water, she reached for the tiny brass zipper tong high on her waist.
"Lemme do it." Joey's prick was beginning to stand away from his body. He stepped close ... until the tip was bare inches away from the warmth of her crotch. He undid the zipper. The wet shorts clung. With difficulty, he worked them down-caressing her hips, buttocks, thighs. The shorts dropped to the water. They sank. He watched her step gingerly out of the garment, bend and retrieve it. He watched her straighten and hold the shorts uncertainly. His cock grew rock-hard. Her black pussy, thick with short, curly hair, showed plainly through the sopping wet underwear.
Connie watched his hand come to rest on her breast. She shuddered. Her almond-shaped eyes-hinting at the Orient somewhere in her ancestry: blue-hazel with flecks of jade stared deep into his.
Joey stepped closer. His cock, standing straight out now, grazed the swell at her crotch. She inched back. He followed. He touched her hip, moved his fingers over her belly. Again she retreated. He pursued. His fingers encountered the springy mound at her crotch.
A small, barely audible noise came from Connie's throat. The back of her legs touched shore. Again she sat with a loud splat! "Ouch!" she complained as Joey came down with her, between her gaped open thighs, and pressed her down onto her back on the cool, grassy bank.
"You're hard," whispered Connie hoarsely.
Joey acknowledged by grinding his dick hard into her crotch. He could feel the slit of her cunt through the shorts and the panties. He centered his meat. Pushing in, forcing her open, he pressed his mouth to the bra, where a taut, rosy nipple showed through.
"You promised," protested Connie, squirming as the glans of his prick bored into her.
"We ain't doin' it."
"Oh, don't! I ... I can feel you inside."
Joey opened his mouth on her nipple, sucked and blew through the wet bra. He pressed harder. His stiff dick forced the panties deep between the lips of her cunt. He could feel the heat, the hair, feel the lips open wide. He had her, he knew. A moment more. Already her hips were moving ... her ass working to pull him deep inside her belly.
Connie suddenly raised one knee ... making her cunt more accessible. The panties shifted high on one side, exposing half of her pussy, the hair, the slit. Now only the shorts remained between him and her hole. "Oh! You said you wouldn't," she whined when he reached down between their bodies and freed his hard tool. "You said! You said!"
Ignoring her halfhearted protests, thinking only of getting it in as fast as he could manage, Joey set the fat tip of his joint at the open lips of her pussy. "Don't fucking yell," he told her. "You want it. Lookit your cunt. It's open so far I could stick my whole goddam leg in."
Connie whimpered as he drove the head of his cock between the hot lips of her vulva. "You promised. You said you wouldn't do anything I didn't want you to do."
"Don't you want me to fuck you?"
"Uh-uh." Then: "OH, GOD, DON'T!" as he shafted half the length of his stiffness up her tight hole.
Joey gasped from the hot feel of her. There was no stopping now-even if she wanted him to. And he knew no matter what she said, what she did, Connie didn't want him to. He pulled back and drove the last inches up her delectable sheath. "Want me to stop now? Pull out?"
"Y-yes! I, oh! I, owl I A-A-don't!" sputtered the girl as he retreated ... as if about to obey her wishes and withdraw his hard pulsing meat from her willing hole. She sobbed, closed her eyes. Her face contradicted her protests. "I ... I hardly know you," she cried, hips working. "It's not fair. You ... you made me. You made me!"
"Lift your shoulders," directed Joey, not caring who made who, or what she said or did, just so long as her cunt kept doing whatever in hell it was doing, on the, knob of his cock. He undid the snaps holding her bra. The garment came loose. He peeled it away from her boobs, gasped at the sight of her nipples standing square and tall and pink-red, ready for sucking. He cupped one mound, tongued the peak, drew it into his mouth and sucked as an infant seeks sustenance.
"Stop it!" protested Connie, arching high off the grass and working her cunt round and round on the meat pole in her belly. "Don't come in me. D-don't! You ... ow! OW! You'll ... um! Make me pregnant. D-don't! Don't!"
"Shuddup makin' so much goddam noise," bellowed Joey. "Jeez! You'll have your mother, Gwen, my old man-hold my nuts for a while. It'll give you something to do besides running your mouth." He withdrew two-thirds of his cock ... allowing her room to reach down and inside the shorts to his balls. He wished now he'd taken more time, persuaded her to take the panties off, too, and discarded the shorts before fucking his meat into her velvety twat.
"Oh!" Connie's cool slender fingers stole inside the wet shorts. She found his sacs, cupped. Joey groaned. But now, he discovered, perplexed, when he tried to drive his hard prick back up her pussy, the hand fondling his cubes, obeying his command, was in the way.
Four cunts! thought Joey. That's how many he'd fucked in his lifetime. And all four together weren't near as much trouble as Connie.
Suddenly the girl giggled. Where before she had been fretful, objective, she now was as silly as the make-believe fat lady in the circus. She covered her mouth with one hand and shook uncontrollably with tee-hee-hees. "The grass," she explained. "It tickles."
He, too, laughed. He supposed it was uncomfortable. Especially for a girl like Connie ... with soft, tender cheeks ... made for feeling and fucking and like that. He looked about. His gaze settled on the clothing scattered over the lake bank. "We can use the clothes for a blanket," he offered.
"You'll have to pull out," whispered Connie. "I can take my panties off, too."
Holy shit! thought Joey. That was more like it! He hurriedly popped his slippery cock from her pussy ... watched her make a big O of objection with her small mouth. He remembered Milicent Waters. She, too, had made a big O with her mouth. Then her lips had come down on his joint and sucked and sucked. He watched Connie lift her hips, work the wet panties down her thighs, sit and push them off. He eyed her black pussy. Beads of water glistened like jewels in the short, curly hairs. His mouth watered. His throat filled with saliva. Quickly he gathered the discarded clothing, came out of the shorts, and arranged a blanket. But instead of climbing aboard once Connie had resituated her ass and lay, thighs open and ready to fuck, he lay the opposite way, crotch to face, crotch to face.
"Wha ... ?"
Joey felt her warm breath on his dick and almost died. "I never ate a pussy," he told her. Then, before she could say anything more, he buried his face in the hot hairy wedge between her creamy young thighs.
"Oh, Joey. Jo-eeeeeeeeee!" gasped Connie. No-nobody ever. Not even ... ow! OWWW-EEEEEEEEEE! Not even m-my boyfriend ever sucked my pussy. Do it, Joey. Oh, do it good."
"Suck me off, too."
"I never...."
Joey tongued her hard clit. She squealed. Her soft white ass bucked high, her mouth dropped open, and, before she could finish what she'd started to say, the swollen head of his prick, still wet and slippery with juice from her hot pussy, forced its way between her parted pink lips.
"Suck it all in," he panted into her bush. "Like you was suckin' a straw. Eat me."
The girl gasped. She gurgled and tried to turn away from the long meat cylinder slipping into her face. Joey held her, sucked her sweet cunt, tonguing and lapping her toward orgasm. He rolled atop her, knees astraddle her head so she couldn't escape, and fucked the entire stiff length into her mouth. Connie whimpered and thrashed-partially because of the unfamiliar thing in her throat, he knew, but mostly because of what he did with his tongue. For although he'd never before eaten a pussy, he was so excited, so hot, and Connie Sawyer tasted so good and smelled so delicious down there, he performed instinctively. With two fingers on each hand, he spread the tight lips of her vulva. He licked down ... over her clit, her gash, and into the crack slicing up her plump bottom, He washed her hot puckered asshole ... made her cry out and thrash even more by driving his tongue against her contracting sphincters. He licked back to her cunt, over the island of flesh between the two holes, and clamped his mouth over her pulsating sex. He sucked. He drank deep of the smell and the taste, the warmth of her twat. He pounded his cock down into her face, and sucked and sucked and made Connie Sawyer suck, too.
As suddenly as she'd changed her mind about fucking, Connie stopped protesting, trying to twist away, and took his hard joint willingly into her face. She gripped his hips, his tense buttocks. She raised her knees, young thighs wide, and grinded her gash up and into his face. She moaned and wiggled, ass moving furiously, mouth making small, suction noises on the pistoning meat about to plant semen in her gullet.
When it happened, Joey yelled into her pussy, rammed his spitting dick into her mouth to the roots, and drank the sweet juice from her hole. Connie drank, too. Greedily she sucked his cream, clamping her lips, her teeth tight at the base, holding him so he couldn't withdraw, and working her throat, her jaw her cheeks, pulling him deeper, deeper still, refusing to relent even after the last gooey gob geysered from the tiny aperture in the throbbing glans of his cock.
And at that precise moment, while Joey Benedict lay gasping into Connie Sawyer's wet, gaped open cunt, Dave Benedict, the boy's father, was kneading Nancy's small tits, her pussy, and humping his second cumload up her tight, tighter than tight, little-girl daughter asshole.
Miles away, far beyond the jungle, Alicia Benedict, too, was coming. Her sopping wet pussy worked incessantly on the Mexican boy's long, brown, uncircumcised cock. And as the boy again told her fuck-fuck, dropped with his mouth to her breasts and blasted another hot gism load in her cunt, she wondered again about Joey, Nancy, and Dave, wondered what her family was doing out there beyond the city and the capsized boat. Particularly Joey. Her Joey. She fucked the young Mexican boy, but thought persistently about the young boy she'd raised from an infant. She fucked and listened to the subdued sounds of quaint Puerto Vallarta.
In the distance, she heard The Princessa's fog horns announce dinner for all those ashore who planned to eat aboard the yacht. She'd never make the first call, she knew. But she hoped Dave had sense enough to get the kids back in time. Especially Joey. Joey, she thought, ate like a bird, and would never sit down to a wholesome meal unless someone stood there and practically forced the hot food down his throat.