Chapter 1
After its initial steep climb, the airliner leveled off to a more comfortable angle of ascent. As the passengers shifted about in their seats, the voice of the head-stewardess came over the public address system.
"Good afternoon Ladies and Gentlemen and welcome aboard Atlantic Airways Flight 609 from Boston to Miami, with intermediate stops at La Guardia Airport in New York and Washington National Airport. Our estimated time of arrival in New York is 6:45 and there will be a twenty minute layover before continuing on to our nation's capital. Our pilot on this flight is Captain James Ross, co-pilot William Daniels, and navigator Roger Manning. Our stewardesses are Marcia Hyer and Wendy Malone. This is your head-stewardess Denise Bennett speaking. Please obey the no-smoking sign until it is turned off and please keep your seatbelts fastened throughout the flight. On behalf of our captain and crew thank you for flying Atlantic, and we hope you have a pleasant flight."
Elizabeth Reynolds unfastened her seatbelt and crossed her long legs. She did not like feeling restrained, and she was in no mood to compromise her comfort. A businessman across the aisle eyed her meaningfully, but she did not feel like flirting. She had a decision to make. In less than an hour she would be back with her family, and she had to know how to act. She was coming home to a strange and tense situation.
As she sat on the plane she remembered how it all started. It had been one of the first cool days of the previous autumn. She was to leave home the next day to begin college in Boston. All the preparations were made. It was her last Sunday at home and there was nothing to do but sit back, relax, and enjoy it.
She got up and went downstairs for some orange juice. The house was empty. Her mother and sister were at church, no doubt. There was a note on the hall table from her brother saying that he was down the street playing football with friends. She could hear her father working out in his shop.
When she got back to her room she tossed off her robe and crawled back into bed. She just wanted to lay back and soak it all in. She thought about the night before when she'd said goodbye to her boyfriend Timmy. They had balled in his bedroom for hours while his parents were out wife-swapping with friends. He upset her by worrying that they would stain the sheets on his bed and his father and mother would find out. What a child he is, thought' Elizabeth. I know what I want from college, she thought; I want men who like to ball and don't care who knows it; men who can last longer than Timmy; men who can fuck me all night.
These thoughts made the heat rise between her legs. She was glad she was alone in the house. She threw off the covers and sat up in bed, her knees spread, her ankles up close to her crotch, her hands deep in her own pubic hair. With two fingers of one hand she stroked the twin soft lips of her pussy while the other hand strayed through the black growth.
She was an attractive eighteen-year-old with a tall, slim body and a model's figure. Her legs were long and straight and clean shaven. Her hips were slim and her waist small, with the flesh across her stomach taut and smooth. She had had to give up her fashion modeling aspirations, however, because her breasts were too large for the body of our modern mannequins. She had considered posing nude for a photographer, but as long as she lived with her parents the repercussions would have been terrible. Still she hadn't give up the idea entirely, and she liked to fantasize about posing without clothes while masturbating.
She thought of that now. She pictured a photographer's studio. She saw herself spread out before a camera, stretching her naked body in front of a man she didn't know; standing, kneeling, crawling, writhing around about on a bed, a couch, a chair, a floor, where-ever he wanted, doing whatever he asked, teasing and touching herself, thrusting her lips, her tits, her ass, her cunt, each and every private part of her out at the camera, and loving it because she knew that behind that cold, objective eye were a million men with warm hands and hot cocks.
This was her favorite fantasy and it always made her come, especially if there was time to finish it. First she would bring the photographer out from his aloof position and into the scene with her. Next, she'd bring his throbbing erection out of his pants and into her hands. Then she would taste his moist and straining shaft, feel it kiss her hungry cunt-lips and lick the searing walls of her tortured vulva like a tongue of flame.
She did that now. She stroked and rubbed and fingered herself hotly until the studio was blotted out behind the blinding smoke of orgasm as was everything everywhere but the gut-wrenching pleasure of it. Elizabeth opened her eyes and saw the fluids of her vagina boiling up from her lurching loins and flooding off her lap and onto the sheet beneath her, spreading out in a dark and widening circle of wetness.
She came and came and came and then it was done, and she sank down on her pillow in exhausted satisfaction. As she drifted off into peaceful oblivion, there was a noise on the stairs, and for one frozen moment she realized she had forgotten to lock her door. Before she could react there was a knock and her father came into the room.
"Time to get up Liz," he said, the words dropping meaninglessly from his mouth as he realized what she had been doing.
Liz clutched desperately for the covers in a vain attempt to conceal her nakedness.
"Oh! Okay Dad," she said hurriedly. "I'm getting up now."
"Wait just a minute, young lady," her father commanded. "Just what the hell's going on here?"
He walked right over to the side of the bed. Liz was trying to pretend that nothing unusual had happened.
"What? I, uh, don't understand," she said.
She didn't know what was going to happen. She had never been caught before. For all she knew she was about to receive a beating.
"You know goddamn well what I mean so stop play-acting!"
The resolve in his voice finally convinced her to give up. All she wanted now was to hide her nudity. She covered herself as best she could with the blankets, but one full pink breast was still exposed and she knew it.
"Please Daddy," she pleaded. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Please don't hurt me."
He stared at her silently. She was trembling with fear; he could see that. He wanted to yell and scream but something was caught in his throat, preventing him. He could not take his eyes from that one pink breast. It stood out indecently over the edge of the white sheet, staring at him, daring him. It looked so young, so sweet, like a soft cone of creamy flesh. He found himself sitting on the side of the bed.
"I'm not going to hit you, honey," he said in a throaty whisper. "I'm not going to hurt you at all."
As Liz stared at him in wide-eyed astonishment, her father leaned over and took that one soft, round breast in his mouth. He sucked in the nipple. His tongue wound sensuously around its tender point.
Before Liz knew what was happening her tits had hardened with wild excitement and were thrusting themselves obscenely into her father's face.
"Oh, yes Daddy! Do it!" she near-screamed. "Lick them all over!"
She seized him around the head with both hands and pressed his face fiercely against her. The feeling of gratification was gone. She was hot for him and she wanted it!
With one hand he threw back the blankets and sheet covering her, exposing her young and sculptured body to his lustful gaze. From the corner of his eye he could see the snowy expanse of her flat stomach. It lay there like a field in winter, untouched and virginal, and at the field's edge there stood the forest of her pubic hair; its lush thickness promising warmth and shelter.
Liz watched her father's mouth devouring her jutting breasts. His eyes were closed now and he seemed to have abandoned himself on her tits. He held one in each hand as his tongue swept back and forth against them, dividing its attention equally between each heaving, hardening globe. She was driven to erotic distraction by his hands and mouth. She felt wonderfully lewd. Her vaginal muscles clenched involuntarily. Her hands strayed wildly about his head and shoulders. She was in awe of his strength and power.
He held one firm, rubbery breast in his hand while he attacked the other with his lips and tongue. He licked it, pinched it with his lips, even bit it with his teeth in the excitement of his growing frenzy. He withdrew his mouth slowly, lingeringly, and then attacked again, sucking the fleshy nipple swiftly into his oral chamber with a force that made her cry out.
"OOOOOOOOhhhhhhhh!!!!!" she screamed. "Yes, yes, yes. Do it. Oh, please do it!"
The sound of his daughter's pleading cry spurred him on. He seized one full rich breast in each of his strong hands and crushed them ferociously against his face. He wrenched them back and forth as though he were trying to tear them from her body. Liz let go of him and held on to both sides of the bed. She tried to muffle the violent moans of desire rising in her throat. A thunder of pain and pleasure rolled through her, shaking her with a power she could not control.
"Oh! ... Uh! .. . Urh! . . . Urh!" she cried out, howling and grunting with each wonderful, soul-wracking jolt.
She grabbed at his shirt and tore it from his body, exposing his naked chest to her frantic hands. She caressed him; her fingers wandered everywhere. She grasped the rippling muscles of his straining back and hugged him to her in a feverish embrace. She spread her lovely legs as he moved on the bed.
He climbed on top of his daughter.
He released her ravaged breasts and threw his arms around her. He pulled her face to him and kissed her lips. He drove his tongue into her mouth. He slid it around and around in her oral cavity, tasting her saliva as it welled up and dribbled out the side of her mouth and down her chin. He slid it across her teeth and shoved it down her throat as far as it would go. She gagged. He withdrew and then kissed her again, spearing it deep as before, driving moaning sobs of want from the bottom of her belly.
He forced her legs wide apart and climbed between them. He yanked her body down flat on the bed and crushed against her. The front of his trousers was stained dark by the juices of her running cunt. She reached around behind him and grasped his strong ass-cheeks. They dry-humped each other. The coarse fabric of his trousers rubbed back and forth across her sensitive snatch as he drove her again and again down into the bed.
With each bone-crushing lunge she bounced back, meeting him in mid-air and jabbing her swollen clitoris against his zipper. Each jab sent lightning bolts of nerve-shattering pleasure through nether-regions until her whole crotch seemed to crackle with electric sparks from her clit to the tiny wrinkled orifice in her ass.
They kept it up until Martin Reynolds could stand it no longer. He felt himself being consumed by a fire of lust like he had never known before. Not once since he had come into his daughter's room had the possible consequences of his actions entered his mind. All he knew was that he had to fuck this luscious, willing girl.
He reached down to unbuckle his trousers. He felt her arm; her hand was at the fly of his pants. His body seemed to ignite into a single flame of desire.
"You really want it don't you, you little slut?" He spat the words out in a sadistic snarl.
"Yes! Oh, yes! Yes! Yes!" she moaned. "Do it to me Daddy!"
He pinned her arms above her head with one hand and tugged his zipper down with the other. His prick had grown into a massive erection and he had to wrestle it out of his pants. He rammed it into the bubbling cauldron of her cunt.
"UUUUUUUhhhhhhh!!!" she cried, and real tears poured out of her beautiful blue eyes and rolled down her red-flushed cheeks.
"Yes, you like that, don't you? You love it, don't you?" he said. His voice was as hard as the dick with which he stabbed her. He dragged his weapon slowly out of her tiny sheath and charged again, shoving its full seven-inch length into the base of her body. She screamed again.
"OOOOhhhh! Ahhhh!"
The feeling was incredible. With each plunge the need in her body shorted out, and with each withdrawal of his rod the friction seemed to re-magnetize her. She thought she was on the verge of total electrocution. She could not stop moaning; with each jolt the sounds flew out of her throat as a new wave of energy swept over her.
He slowed his fucking, drawing his big blunt cock all the way out of her cunt until the hard, round head touched against the vibrant stalk of her clitoris, and then jamming his log back into her as deep as it would go, twisting it against the tough back wall of her vaginal passage.
Her arms were still pinned above her head. She was helpless and vulnerable, and she loved it. Liz felt she never wanted this sensational fucking to stop. This can't be a one-time thing, she thought. I can't go away tomorrow and give all this up!
Her father began to hump faster. He wanted to bang her as hard as he could and he knew now that she could take it.
"I'm going to fuck you now," he said harshly. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll never stop coming."
He looked down into her beautiful face. Her eyes were closed as she responded to his hump-thrusts.
"Go ahead!" she said breathlessly. "I love it. I love you!"
He released her arms and took her face in his hands. He kissed her mouth lovingly. Their tongues met and caressed. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him back, her open lips tugging on his long tongue.
He pumped against her and she heaved in response. He forced his blood-hardened meat into her deepest recesses and she tried to swallow it down. There was a hunger in her belly. She wanted to kill and she needed his prick to do it. The gaping mouth of her cunt bit down on him each time he slammed into her.
He fucked her harder and harder and faster and faster and she fucked him back just as fast and as hard.
He clutched at her in desperation. She dragged her fingernails across his back and down to his ass, leaving long lines of red welts from the back of his neck to the crack in his buttocks. She grabbed one half-moon in each hand and held on.
Rocking madly, they came together.
He sank his searing sex tool to the bottom of her ravished vagina and held it there while he sprayed her with his steaming sperm. When she felt her uterus drenched by his boiling seed, she went into spasms of her own. She was consumed in a white-hot orgasm that melted her insides till they flowed out of her cunt and down onto her father's cock.
Martin let out a long groan of relief and collapsed on his daughter's body. They did not separate. They continued to hold each other, their two forms a chaos of arms and legs on the rumpled bed. His prick was still buried deep in Liz's hole. Slowly their breathing resumed a normal rhythm.
Liz reached one hand down to feel. Her fingers slid over her legs and loins, well lubricated by the flood of vaginal oil which had gushed out of her. She felt her father's cock where it disappeared into the well of her cunt. It's so thick, she thought. How did he get it into me? She gripped the shaft between her fingers and raised herself against it. The organ sank even deeper into her. She loved the feeling of fullness it gave her as she lay there motionless and impaled.
She felt the top edge of his prick grating against her rock-hard clit and his cock-head resting firmly against the mouth of her uterus.
Finally he raised his head off her shoulder and looked into her eyes. They were round and blue and they shone with the glow of satisfaction. He thought, except for that glow they are the eyes of her mother.
"Honey," he said.
"Yes Daddy."
"You have to promise me something," he hesitated. "Okay," she said happily. "What?" He looked at her closely. He had to fight to get the words out.
"You have to promise me you won't tell your mother about this." The minute he said it he knew he shouldn't have. Those big beautiful blue eyes blinked, and instantly their shine was clouded over with hurt. In seconds a rain of tears was falling down her cheeks.
"Now honey," he started.
"No!" she cried. "No! Leave me alone! Leave me alone!" She tried to push him off, to fight him off, but he was too strong, too heavy.
"Let me explain," he said, raising his voice.
"No! No! No! No! No! No!"
She struck at him wildly, but he pinned her arms to the bed and held them there.
"I don't understand," he said desperately. "What's the matter with you?"
She collapsed on the bed in surrender, her body wracked by broken sobs.
"All you ever think about is her," she cried bitterly. "You don't care about me. You don't love me."
He took her face in his hands and kissed her.
"I do love you," he said firmly. "Didn't I just prove that?"
She blinked at him with wet eyes. His face was only inches from hers. She reached up and kissed him lightly on the lips. Suddenly he realized he had stayed too long, that he had better get downstairs before his wife came home. But I can't leave her like this, he thought.
Their mouths met and twisted together. He brushed her damp hair out of her face. Her lips and tongue tasted salty from the tears.
Martin got up and stood beside the bed. He zipped up his pants and rolled the remnants of his shirt into a ball of cloth. He looked down at his daughter and smiled. She lay stretched out on the bed, naked and enjoying it as he stared at her body. He knew he should leave but he couldn't take his eyes off her. She gazed back at him, her eyes full of love and happiness.
"You do promise, don't you?" he asked quietly.
"Yes Daddy, if that's what you want," she said. "I promise."
"Promise what!" a voice said.
It was June Reynolds. Martin's wife stood in the doorway, her face registering astonishment, outrage, shock. She stormed in and slammed the door behind her. Martin turned away paralyzed with shame. Liz tried frantically to cover herself with the sheet, but her mother ripped it from her hands and threw it off the bed. She stared down at the nude girl in disbelief.
"You little whore!" she screamed. "You little monster!"
She threw herself at her daughter. Liz buried her head under the pillow to protect herself, but it did little good. June yanked at the pillow but could not get it away.
"I'll teach you, you slut!"
She pinned her to the bed by straddling her legs. She hiked up her own dress, exposing a set of white, fleshy thighs, and began to spank Liz on her small round bottom. Sharp thwacks echoed through the house as she slapped the soft skin again and again. Within minutes her daughter's ass was raw and tender.
Martin Reynolds stared at the floor in humiliation. He knew he had been wrong. Liz did not deserve the beating she was receiving. It had all been his fault. He must stop this.
"That's enough," he said quietly.
His wife did not hear him. She went on slapping and spanking. The white skin had turned a painful red under her incensed attack.
"I said that's enough!" he shouted.
And that was that. Her rage spent, June ran crying from the room. Liz was sent off to school the next day. Her parents were legally separated within a month.
"Please buckle your seat belt, Miss."
Roused from her memories Liz looked around quickly to orient herself. She was on the plane heading home. A stewardess stood beside her, a gleaming smile pasted on her perfectly made-up face. Her hand rested warmly on Liz's arm.
"Oh. I'm sorry. I need to use the ladies' room."
"Of course," the young woman said. "It is in the rear of the aircraft." She gave Liz's arm a slightly too-friendly squeeze and smiled again. "Need any help?" She asked the question more with her eyes than her mouth.
"Not just now," Liz said, returning the other's smile. "But maybe some other time."
"Okay," the other said, her smile growing even wider.
Liz went to the rear of the plane and locked herself in the washroom. That stew was cute, she thought, but right now I feel like being alone. She lifted her long denim skirt over her waist and slid her silk panties down to her knees. This prevented her from spreading her legs wide, but the cabin was too cramped for that anyway. She could not stand this way, so she sat on the edge of the toilet seat. With her arm she held her skirt up and out of the way while her hand held a paper towel between her legs. The other hand forced itself between her tightly clenched thighs.
She felt the clean smooth skin of her legs and the clump of damp hair between them. The hardness of the washroom, the edge of the seat, the metal washbasin and the flat bulkhead walls contrasted nicely with the softness of her love-nest. She passed her finger inside and felt the edges of her cunt-lips and her fleshy vagina with its curved, wet walls.
She explored slowly, quietly, tracing imaginary lines all around her genitals. First one, then a second, and finally a third finger entered her moistening cunt.. She began to squirm and twist on the toilet, hunching her shoulders forward, jutting her breasts and stomach in and out involuntarily, dancing to the primitive rhythms.
Silently and steadily she caressed her own clit until it throbbed with life. She was brimming with heat. A few more quick jabs with her fingers and she climaxed. The juice ran between her fingers and out of her slippery cunt. It ran down her legs where it was soaked up by the towel. She stood and wiped herself dry with a fresh one. She straightened her clothes and checked her make-up in the mirror. Suddenly she realized she had forgotten her pocket book. She hurried back to her seat. Her purse was still there, a cow-skin bag with a sewn-in Indian design.
She relaxed in her seat. Her mind was clear now. I always think better after I've come, she thought. She checked the bag to see if everything was there. Wallet, checkbook, make-up, coke-spoon; it all seemed in order. She noticed a piece of paper. It read: Denise Bennett. 400 East 75th St. New York. 789-6969. There was a postscript: Call me, anytime.
Liz smiled to herself and put the note into her wallet. This will have to wait, she thought. There's something I have to do first.
She buckled her seat belt and got ready to land.