Chapter 8
Brent was very glad to have his daughter back. The fact that she had been raped had not been made clear to him by the cops, but it didn't matter to him at all. He was glad that she was still alive and virtually unharmed.
They said goodbye to her grandfather and picked up her belongings from his house. Then they drove back home together. Her father was very quiet and subdued. Susie thought guiltily that she was the cause of his depression.
"I'm sorry I ran away, Brent. I wanted to come home again, and this boy, the lifeguard, said that he would take me there. I guess I shouldn't have believed him."
"Well, it's only natural for a child to believe what another person tells her. Your grandfather is the one at fault. He shouldn't have let you go wandering off by yourself. Weren't you happy with him?"
"I had a good time the first few weeks, but then I began to miss you." She snuggled up close to him on the seat.
He put a comforting arm around her and she quickly fell asleep after the last eventful days of her vacation.
Brent felt the warmth of his daughter's body next to him. He still found it hard to believe that her small body had taken on the burden of womanhood. He felt her soft hair and her warm, flushed cheek against his hand.
Apparently, she had survived the loss of physical innocence. He couldn't help marveling at her strength of mind. She seemed to have come through unscathed.
He felt sad rather than angry at the predicament that confronted him. Unfortunately he found that he could understand the mentality of the rapist very easily. He had felt the same need in his loins and acted on it at various times in the past. How could he blame the male party for a passion that so obviously originated in the female? It was Adam and Eve all over again. Brent couldn't condemn a man for acting on the desires that consumed his own body.
Susie was dressed once again in her crisp white pinafore. Brent noticed how her nipples bulged through the stiff surface of the starched material. He thought that he could distinguish their rosy color staining through the cotton. She was growing up, there was no doubt about it. The hem of her dress rested way above her knees, showing her tanned thighs which were plump and shapely. He couldn't help thinking that rape had agreed with her. She looked healthy, after her summer at the beach, rape or no rape.
Susie was growing up too quickly. He began to think about what would happen when she came into contact with boys her own age. He realized that this could be a source of great unhappiness for the child, since it would be obvious that she was different. He decided to send her to an all -girls school. Under such circumstances, her experience would not be so noticeable. He would protect her from further harm by keeping her out of contact with men.
Brent realized that there was something selfish in his plan, but he stuck to it -anyway. The truth was that he wanted to keep her for himself. He didn't want her to grow up. He loved her just the way she was. He wanted to preserve her childhood intact.
In the fall, Susie was enrolled at an all girls school. It was a very strict atmosphere to come back to after her wild summer on the beach. Her grandfather's permissiveness could not be forgotten easily. Her spirit rebelled against the rigid schedule at school
The girls all dressed in uniforms. They were required to wear plain, pleated skirts and blazers that bore the insignia of the school. Susie tried to fuck the system any way she could. She refused to wear bras. She wore her skirts provokingly short and defied the administration to change her ways. They were constantly trying to pass new rules to control her, but this means of attack was slow and by the time they had passed a new bylaw, Susie had found some other way of asserting her independence.
Susie's spirited ways made her popular with many of the teachers who admired her pluck. She seemed to handle the administration easily where they were enslaved by it, fearful of their jobs. Other teachers hated her because she was a trouble maker. Her report card read unruly and lacking in self-control, but in another spot it praised her for being imaginative.
Mr. Wiggler was very fond of Susie. He was the English teacher and was constantly amazed at the little girl's power of self-expression. She had even helped him to inaugurate a pet idea of his, the debating society. This was an after-school activity that gave students the opportunity to call the administration to task.
The administration tolerated the debating team which gave the children a chance to air their gripes because it seemed to keep Susie, the star nuisance, under control.
One afternoon, Susie accosted Mr. Wiggler as he was leaving school. He didn't know what to do as he thought it would be rude to walk out on her, so he invited her to walk home with him. He didn't live far from school.
"They just passed a new rule saying that students may not wear skirts above the knee. I'm surprised that they didn't make it mid-calf. I bet they'd like to keep us shut up there in that school and never let us see what goes on in the outside world. It's obvious they have no feeling for fashion or freedom."
"Susie slow down. I can't really see what fashion and freedom have to do with one another. The problem with you is you get so excited. If you tried to think more slowly and carefully, you'd express your ideas more rationally and give others the opportunity to understand you."
"I'm sorry. But you know what I mean, even if I don't express myself like a politician. Why are you walking so fast? What's the hurry? Can't you stop for a minute, and talk to me? Please!"
She came to a halt and waited for his answer. He pulled up short beside her. He looked extremely flustered, though he was normally the epitome of calm.
"I'm expecting a phone call."
"From a girl?" she teased him.
"Yes. She's a very old, dear friend of mine. She's coming to visit all the way from Atlanta. I really have to hurry."
"I suppose I have no right to interfere in your private life. I'm sorry if I've taken up too much of your time." Susie started to leave. As she turned around he grabbed her by the arm.
"Why don't you come upstairs and wait with me. That way we can discuss our problem and I'll have someone to pass the time with while I'm waiting for the phone call."
She stopped and considered his proposition for a moment. She knew that the administration would definitely not approve of her going to a faculty member's apartment without a chaperone.
Mr. Wiggler looked to be well into middle age, though in fact, he was just thirty years old. His deceiving appearance could probably be attributed to the way he slicked his hair down, and his thick-rimmed glasses. He was proper and old-fashioned in every sense of the word.
Susie accepted his invitation as a kind of challenge. She was curious about whether his apartment would be as colorless as his way of dress. She hoped that his manner was merely assumed for purposed of impressing the administration. She liked to think of him as a Clark Kent type. He was sort of biding his time, she hoped, until one day he would change into Superman and defend freedom before the oid bunch of fuddy-duddies who ran the school.
He escorted her into a six-story apartment building in the East Seventies. It was by no means a luxury building, but it was clean and kept up with shiny brass dorrknobs and the tenants' register polished to a high shine. The lobby and stairs were carpeted. She almost had the feeling that they were consorting in secrecy and that he didn't want anyone to know that he was taking her home with him. She kept silent for awhile, not wanting to break the spell of glamorous intrigue.
He inserted his key in the lock and opened the door for her to pass through. She stepped into a sunny, cheerful apartment, decorated with bright, post-impressionistic prints.
"Well, here we are. Sit down, Susie and make yourself comfortable."
He went immediately to the telephone, to make sure that the receiver was properly cradled on the hook. She could tell that the call was very important to him.
He was obviously much more nervous about hearing from that girl, whoever she was, than concerned about having her in his apartment. She felt distinctly slighted.
He sat down on a chair near the telephone while she was across from him on the couch. There was an awkward silence between them. Finally he took it upon himself to begin the conversation, since he had invited her up to talk.
"Now, my dear, what is it that's bothering you? Do you really find it so hard to believe that they've outlawed short skirts at Bartlem? They're not the first school to do it."
"Yes. I knew it would happen sooner or later. But I don't care if they kick me out. I'm going to make myself an example and see how tough they get. Nobody's going to tell me how to wear my clothes."
"Is that really more important to you than your education?"
She ignored the question.
"Look at you. You may be satisfied to have them put you in a strait-jacket if they choose, but I'm not. They haven't broken my spirit yet. How can you stand to wear a white shirt and starched collar every day and a tie that chokes you?"
Mr. Wiggler raised his hand uncomfortably to his throat and loosened the knot at his neck. He went so far as to unbutton the top of his collar. He suddenly felt stifled as she spoke these incriminating words.
"I'd like to see them pass a rule saying that we have to wear bras," she said, opening her blazer and stretching her arms up over her head. "Old Mrs. Condor would probably have a heart attack if you so much as mentioned the word in her saintly ear."
Mr. Wiggler couldn't help laughing at the idea. Mrs. Condor had a huge chest that she never exposed. She kept it well hidden under jackets and vests. But you could see that it stretched voluminously over her whole upper body, from her armpits to her chest.
'You're just jealous," he chided. But he couldn't help staring at her budding breasts as he said this.
The school was usually kept so cold that the girls were forced to wear their blazers in class The intention was that cold air helped to keep the students awake no matter how boring the classes were. He had heard the rumor that
Susie didn't wear a bra, though she needed one, but he hadn't had the opportunity to see for himself until now.
Her breasts blossomed underneath her white blouse, which was too small for her. It was obvious that she was quite proud of her new attributes. The nipples were clearly visible under the old material, which was worn smooth and thin. He could distinguish them quite clearly by the dark stain of color that imaged their presence.
Then Susie did something that shocked him. She hiked her skirt up above her golden thighs showing him the black garters of her stockings.
Mr. Wiggler felt his feelings rising up in his throat as his prick did inside his pants.
"Susie, pull your skirt down," he commanded her but she defied him.
"No. You do it for me, if you're so concerned. I don't care."
He stood up for a moment, and looked around as if he didn't know where to go or what to do next. He decided that the best thing to do was to patronize her and give her the attention she was so obviously demanding. However, he hardly realized how far her demands would take them.
He pulled her skirt back over her thighs again. He would show her that he wasn't affected by her tawdry show. But the truth was that he was deeply impressed by it. His hand contacted the smooth nylon stocking and lingered on her knee a moment too long. Then he suavely took her hand in his own.
"Susie, you could get yourself into a lot of trouble behaving this way. I know that you're trying to impress me or embarrass me, one way or the other. But it won't work. I thought we understood each other better than that."
"Well, I guess I know that I won't get into much trouble, since it's only you I'm here with."
, He squeezed her hand sharply and then lifted it to her face. He held her beneath her chin and pressed his mouth over her own. But she was deeply disappointed in that he didn't even try to get into her mouth.
"Is that what you want me to do?" he asked. He thought he would get the upper hand by embarrassing her, assuming she was innocent.
"Not exactly," she told him.
She gazed into his eyes dreamily, but he could see a fierceness lingering behind the hazy blue. He was almost hypnotized by her. Then he saw her eyes spin around and she was holding her in his arms where she had thrown herself. She grasped him around the neck with her cool fingers and then her eyes came closer as she pressed her lips against his mouth. Her blue eyes never left off their staring as she parted her lips and licked his own. Then she dipped her tongue inside his mouth and wriggled it around with excitement.
Mr. Wiggler knew now that the situation had got out of control. He felt powerless to stem the tide of circumstances. Momentarily, he forgot that she was a child, and a student entrusted to his care. He kissed her like he would any woman, and felt her melt, warm and soft into his arms.
She grabbed his hand and thrust it under her skirt. She held it to her thigh and ran it up and down the slippery smooth stocking. She could feel his dick pounding against her ass as she sat in his lap. She was sure of her conquest and she smiled up at him with distinct fire glittering in her brilliant blue eyes. The clouds of indecision had passed out of her gaze.
He slipped his hand up and down her sensually curved upper leg. He felt the flesh bulging above the stocking, and pressed his fingers against the soft, warm skin. She was busy unfastening the buttons of her blouse now.
She pressed her cool hand once again to the back of his hot neck. She pulled his head down until it sunk onto her chest and fastened to one of her nipples.
His mouth was warm and sucked gently as if he were afraid of hurting her. She pinched the back of his neck to indicate that she wasn't so fragile.
He responded to her unspoken wish and sucked the nipple into his mouth hard, twirling his tongue around it and feeling it wrinkle erotically.
When he had finished sucking both her breasts, he raised ids head and smiled at her for the first time. He was the one who had the dreamy eyes now.
She bounded off his lap and began to strip in front of him. She slipped out of her open blouse, and rotated her shoulders sensuously. Then she unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. She stood in her panties for a moment, and let him admire the curves thus far exposed.
She thrust her hand inside the elastic waistband of her panties, and with one tug, pulled them down about her knees. She wiggled out of them, bending over in profile, to give him a good look at her voluptuous ass.
Mr. Wiggler was beside himself with pleasure. This was the type of thing that only happened in the movies. Even now it seemed as if it were occurring to someone else. He reached out to touch her to make sure that she was real.
She faced him once again, displaying her naked mound of Venus, on which the golden pubic bush was beginning to appear.
He made a grab for her, and brought her down with a plop on the couch beside him. He pressed his hand fervidly to her hot crotch, and let the fingers slide between the soft lips that trickled their honey into his hand. He lay his long body over her and began to hump her though he was still dressed.
She felt the itchy tweed material rubbing against her breast and the bulging zipper of his pants against her swelling pussy. He began kissing her mouth and her neck with unbounded passion.
"This is silly," she said into his nearby ear. "Why don't you get undressed?"
He dismounted and stood in front of the couch, where he hurriedly unhitched his belt, dropped his pants, unbuttoned his shirt, and threw his shirt and jacket on the floor.
He stood in his underpants, shoes and socks, and she began to giggle at his confusion.
He sat down on the couch by her head and bent over to remove his footwear. She moved her head over his thigh and pulled the elastic of his pants down in front and hitched it under his balls.
She was impatient to see what kind of equipment he had.
M r. Wiggler's dick looked long and sleek and limber, like the rest of his tall body. It was a lovely pink color with a flaming red head that made his penis rather top heavy. Susie grabbed it up in her soft white hand and popped it into her mouth for a suck while he continued to fiddle with his shoes.
She twirled the member in her hand, and licked it around the head with her tongue. It was smooth and hot. She took the enlarged tip into her mouth and began to suck on it vigorously. It leapt up inside her of its own accord.
She accepted it willingly and began to move her mouth over its surface, letting it slide in and out from her succulent lips. It quickly hardened as she worked it over. Soon it was nine inches long, as near as she could calculate. The veins were bulging purple over the pink surface.
Mr. Wiggler leaned back against the cushions to relax. He rested his hand on her soft blonde head and felt it moving up and down in his lap. He could feel the power growing between his legs, bigger and harder all the time. Then he reached his hand over her voluptuous ass that stuck out beneath the lace of the garter belt. He ran his fingers over her crack and down the bare inner thighs that were exposed above the stockings. He linked his finger beneath one of the garters and snapped it wickedly. It resounded sharply against her pale skin. Susie looked back over her shoulder disapprovingly.
He looked down at himself as she moved her head away. He had a perfect erection pointing straight up between his legs. He pressed his hand over the tip of it as if to test the sharpness of his blade.
Then he ordered her to turn around. She squatted on her knees and elbows with her ass facing him and let him explore.
He moved his hand over her plush cheeks, and buried his tongue in her asshole, following the crack down between her legs to her little clitty. He pushed her thighs apart to make room for himself, and thrust his mouth to her voluptuous crack. He buried himself deep in her lips and clung to her clitoris mouthing it vigorously.
She began to sway her ass before him, and around him.
His tongue leapt out of his mouth and up her hole and he reamed her little pussy until the honey began to drip down his chin.
He hoisted himself up on his knees behind her. Her ass bulged lusciously before him like a volcanic mountain covered with snow. He grabbed her thighs and poked the tip of his prick inside her amorous aperture. She moved backwards onto it and enveloped it deep in her steaming thighs.
He grabbed her hips in both hands and began to thrust it into her. She could hear him groaning with pleasure like an animal over its first taste of meat. She waggled her buttocks around to make him work faster and he began plunging inside her with abandon. His balls flapped heavily against the front of her pussy. They dangled down long and pendulous and swayed into her with every thrust. She could feel the hairs irritating her lips and her clitty.
It was delightful of him to have such long, heavy balls and definitely provided an added attraction to her.
Mr. Wiggler could feel himself cutting through her like a knife. She clung to his blade and it sunk deep inside her whiteness over and over. She was so soft and creamy around him that he felt the masculine urge to hurt her. He wanted her to get as involved and turned on as he was. He felt her to be too cool, and objective about the whole thing.
He thrust his hands under her chest and located her nipples. Her breasts swelled slightly and were full. Her nipples were red. He grasped and he covered them easily with his large palms. Then he zeroed in on the protruding points of pleasure and grabbed each roughly between his fingers. He began to direct her by her breasts, as he clung tightly to the central pimple of each.
He tweaked each of them and wrung them as he swayed her body back onto his dick. Now she was moaning as well.
He rested his head on her back as he sunk it into her hard and fast. She spread her knees wide apart so that she could take it in to the hilt. He throbbed and slipped inside her and she clung to him desperately with all her muscular strength. She kept him inside her for longer periods of time, feeling it wriggle desperately to get free.
Then she would let it go suddenly, and he would rear back only to thrust once again, letting the long hard knife cut into her wound.
The telephone began to ring. Its incessant clamor made him stop for a moment, but the urge inside him was too much, and too close to fulfillment to stop now. He clung to her all the more desperately, trying to drown the noise out of his consciousness. Then he began to thrust inside her to the rhythm of the rings, incorporating its urgency with his own.
Susie was bucking underneath him frantically. She didn't want him to leave her now. She held onto his dick with all the strength of her loins and moved her smooth ass inside the cove of his thighs sensuously. She felt the tips of her nipples burning between his fingers.
Her little clitty was a lick of flame between her lips where his balls kept banging against it, her pussy a bed of fire that had to be put out by his long, hard hose.
He rammed into her with great whapping blows and she felt her muscles tense with their last bit of energy. Then the spasmodic outlet of her emotions took over and she was creaming deliriously, her body weightless with release.
He felt her go soft and mushy around him. There was no longer anything to keep him from his pleasure. The phone had stopped ringing. She collapsed on the couch in front of him and he slipped his hands under her crotch, poking the fingers inside the labia and attaching himself to her clitty. He relaxed on top of her cushiony ass and poked her pubis up with his hand so it stuck out behind her and he could begin to work on her again.
He swam over her body with forceful strokes. Her cunt was nice and tight in this position, and he could feel the slimy walls agitating the sides of his member. She sucked him inside deliciously, and he would pull out again with a long stroke only to plunge back into the depths of her hot, steamy ocean again.
He rubbed her clitty erotically, and she suddenly came to life again. She writhed and wriggled underneath him, spurring his passion like a goad.
"Oh, fuck me. I'm so hot for you. Put out the fire. Do it. I want more cock inside me, hot and wet and dripping. Fuck me!" she screamed with abandon.
He jumped up and down on her now, and she panted heavily as the weight of him came on top and inside her. He heaved and struggled and she could feel his hand pressuring her tense little tidbit, and his knees digging into her thighs.
She was moaning and creaming again before she knew what had happened and then she felt him flood her burning hole with his sweet, sluicing fluids and they coiled their bodies together in a limp, wet heap of sensuality.