Jane Fox

The boy teaser

CHAPTER ONE

Carol Chambers closed her lovely eyes and let the bright noonday sun filter through her eyelids, casting a hot red light over the troubled thoughts that swam through her mind. She was sunningherself on her patio, lying on a chaise, clad in the skimpiest bikini she could find and enjoying the sun's penetrating warmth on her barely covered tits and cunt. She was lucky and she knew it. Carol was wealthy, having made a small fortune in the advertising business through hard work and some degree of ruthlessness. She was beautiful, beautiful in the lush, full, free-flowing way that made men wild to fuck her. She had friends, friends of the proper sort, friends whose attitude toward life was devil-may-care and morally loose, wealthy friends, friends who bored each other with a passion. She had everything, everything except happiness.

Carol Chambers, for all her beauty, for all her wealth, for all her fashionable aggressiveness, was unable to find the one thing in life she needed now more than anything else. She lacked a satisfying sex life, and the lack of it was driving her crazy. It wasn't that Carol wasn't chased after by men, far from it. She had had lovers, many of them. But something had always been lacking in her many affairs, something that she had only recently come to realize. It was not only the deep feeling of love and attachment that her affairs had lacked. It was also the freedom; felt within her; to give herself totally when she was getting screwed. She was frigid, at least more frigid than she should have been, and she knew it. She also had come to realize why.

Carol bad always had the ability to look inside herself and analyze her own inner workings. Perhaps it was an innate ability. Or perhaps the ability to see her drives and motivations for whatthey really were a cultivated trait, a trait arising due to the necessity to see the motivations of others in her advertising agency. Whatever the source of her self-analytical abilities she knew what her sexual problems were. Lately she had been thinking about such things constantly and not having a moment's peace.

Carol was thirty-five, and at thirty-five she still hadn't found the sexual satisfaction she craved. She wasn't sure that any of her friends had found it either but that was Utile consolation for her. Her life had to improve before the ravages of time began to show themselves. It was in this mood of unrest approaching desperation that she found herself on this particular afternoon.

She had been allowing herself to drift back in her thoughts to the night more than twenty years ago when all her sexual problems had started. Her daily plunges into the dark waters of her memory of that night had left her a bit exhausted lately. But Carol was strong of will and was determined now to find a way out of the maze of her sexual hang-ups. It all came back to her as if it had happened only yesterday.

Carol was an orphan, an orphaned child of parents who were killed in an automobile accident. There were no relatives to care for her and she was put into an orphanage. Luckily, because of her incredibly winning cuteness, she had been adopted at the age of three, only a few months after the loss of her parents. She remembered little of her experience in the orphanage. Of her experience with her new father she remembered much.

Actually she had been quite happy with her new family. Her adoptive mother cared for her as if she were her own child and her father, at least in the first several years of her life, exhibited toward her the same feelings of fatherly love that any father would have felt for his child. The situation suddenly had changed, however.

Tragedy struck one night when, for the second time in Carol's young life, an automobile accident had claimed a member of her family. This time it was her mother who had died. Carol had been eighteen at the time and had felt the loss of her mother deeply, more deeply than she had felt the loss of her real mother, whom she hardly remembered. Her father had felt that loss even more deeply.

Carol had recovered from the shock eventually, having developed even at the tender age of eighteen the resiliency that had made her a success 'in business in later years. But her father had seemed totally unable to cope with his lack of a partner. He had always been deeply attached to his wife, and Sally's loss had nearly ruined him. His life had changed abruptly. Instead of the strong-willed and protective parent he had once been, Carol had found a weak, shattered excuse for a man.

Carol's disturbed father had quit his job and begun to hit the bars frequently, sometimes staying out all night or coming home with some drunken whore. On such occasions Carol had been whisked away in the night by her new aunt, a loving and protective woman whose memory Carol still cherished. Her Aunt Arlene had begun to stay at the house on an almost permanent basis to care for Carol since her father was neither capable to do so nor so inclined. Carol had been hurt deeply by her father's actions on his drunken nights. She still remembered the sluts he had brought home with him and the vulgar way in which he pawed them and engaged in the most obscene conversations with them in front of his eighteen-year-old daughter.

Carol's aunt had eventually been forced to discus with her father the possibility of letting Carol live with her on a permanent basis. Her father had refused to allow it. Carol had detected even then an atmosphere of impending disaster in the house. Her aunt seemed to be afraid. of something all the time, as if she couldn't bear to let her out of her sight for a minute. Carol had also noticed a strange attitude in her father, an attitude she hadn't understood at the time. He had seemed to stare at her in the most peculiar way. His eyes had become glassy and vacant, as if he were looking at her with some evil intent. And whenever Carol had made some involuntary shrinking movement as a result of his strange stare, he had become violent in the extreme, sometimes throwing things. Carol began to feel that he hated bet

It wasn't until one night after one of the man's wild binges that Carol came to realize that his feelings for her were something other than hate, although just as dangerous.

Carol was sleeping fitfully when she heard the front door slam hard. She knew what that meant.Her father had had a bad time with one of the women he was always picking up. She wished that her aunt were there to whisk her away to the safety of her house. But her aunt was ill and there, was nothing she could do but hope her father would ignore her. Her hopes were to prove false.

She heard a few gasses breaking downstairs, a habit her father had developed lately after downing a drink, then silence, an uneasy silence that frightened her. She hoped he had passed out, as he often had lately. When she heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs, however, she knew that something terrible was about to happen. Theft was no escape. She huddled up against the wall, her nearly naked body shivering with fear.

She heard the door creak open and saw a bit of light from the hallway pierce the darkness. It was her father all right. He had a terribly wicked look on his face, a look that filled poor Carol with unutterable terror. This man had become a complete stranger to her in recent months, a stranger of dangerous and filthy ways. It was as if a total stranger were moving slowly, stealthily into her bedroom.

Carol wasn't a young woman totally ignorant of sex. She had already begun to grow aware of her own body and the developing femininity that in later life would be her womanly treasure. She had heard all about sex and what men sometimes did to women. She had even heard conversations about sex between her father and his bar girls. On occasion she had heard the groaning and moaning, the grunting and screeching, when her father fucked one of his women before her aunt had been able to save her from the embarrassment. Aunt Arlene had warned her about sex and had told her how terribly painful it could be. They were words of warning that she could never forget, although at the time she had considered them the words of a kindly protector.

It wasn't until she saw the dirty gleam in her father's eye as he stood there in the door that she realized his stares were the stares of a horny male sizing up a fuck prospect. She acted quickly, sliding under the coven again and pretending to be asleep, hoping he hadn't seen her sitting up against the wall. She tried to control her breathing, which by now was quite erratic, but not nearly as erratic as her father's.

The tall hulking man, who had seemed handsome to Carol once but who now loomed before her as an ugly monster, stood beside her bed and glowered down at her. Carol opened her eye just a crack, closing it quickly when she realized once and for all that he intended to rape her. Even the word rape sounded terrible to her. It was an ugly word for an ugly act. Her aunt had warned her of men who might try to rape her. She had told her to pretend to be unconscious if such a thing should happen to her, to pretend to faint, to fall limp and hope her attacker would tire of her. She remembered her aunt's words and tried desperately to look like an innocent sleeping eighteen-year-old girl.

Unfortunately for her, an innocent eighteen year-old sleeping girl was exactly what herderanged father wanted for his twisted sexual desires. He had gone without satisfying sex for so long and his mind was so tortured with the sudden loss of the wife he loved that even his adopted daughter seemed a satisfying substitute for his dead wife. He had to fuck her, no matter what the consequences, no matter what the social taboos, no matter what the poor girl herself felt.

Carol felt the covers being lifted off her. She felt herself slowly being exposed to her father's drunken gaze. She was wearing pajamas but she felt naked lying there like that. As far as she knew, he still thought she was sleeping. Her heart began to race wildly. She felt herself on the brink of tenor, felt that she might scream at any minute.

She felt the man's alcoholic breath against the tender skin of her cheek. She almost fainted with fright when she felt his lips touching her cheek. It wasn't a tender kiss but a lusty one, a kiss that soon moved to her lips. Still she tried to feign sleep as she felt the man's lips sucking her own. She felt his tongue entering her mouth, slipping over her gums and tickling the inside of her lips. She felt the presence of his hot hulking body terribly near her. She hoped he would go no further in his explorations. Her hopes were in vain.

She felt his hand on her chest, rubbing against the smallish, developing swellings of her tits. His hand was hot and heavy against her body. She wondered if he could feel her heart beating wildly in her breast.

"I know you're awake, bitch!" the man grumbled. "You can't fool me! I've fucked somany bitches I know what you're up to!"Carol said nothing.

"C'mon! Open those fuckin' eyes?" he growled, slapping her hard on the face.

There was no pretending sleep now. Carol opened her eyes in honor and stared at her father. His face was twisted into a look of wild depravity. His eyes were no longer the eyes of her father but drunken bloodshot eyes, the eyes of a man possessed with devilish sexual desires. Carol could hold back no longer. She opened her mouth to scream, but before she could utter a sound her father clamped his heavy strong hand over her face, almost suffocating her.

"None of that, you little cunt!" he shouted. "You're gonna take what's comin' to ya!"

Carol squirmed wildly, her young tender body shaking and trembling with tenor, a terror she was never to forget.

"I know what you've been up to, bitch! I know you've been wantin' to get fucked for a long time! Ever since you killed your mother!" the madman shouted, holding his daughter fast.

Carol shook her head wildly when she heard him accuse her of killing her mother. Now she knew he was crazy.

"Yeah, you killed her! Don't deny it, baby! You're the one! She went out that night in the goddamn car to get you a bottle of cough syrup! Yeah, you remember, bitch! She got killed that night just because of you and your goddamn fuckin' cold! You could've gone after that fuckin' cough syrup your goddamn self! Sally wassplattered all over the fuckin' road that night! My Sally! Your fault, you stinkin' little cunt!" he cried, growing wilder by the minute.

Carol had never imagined that he felt that way about her. She had indeed thought back on the events of that terrible night but had never realized that he considered her mother's death to be her fault. And she knew that no sane man could possibly think her guilty of such a thing.

"I know why you did it, too, bitch! You've been after me! Yeah! You want my fuckin' cock! That's it, isn't it? You want me to fuck you with my big fat dick! That's just what I'm gonna do, too! Yeah! I'm gonna fuck you so hard you're never gonna forget it, baby! Eighteen! I'll pluck that goddam cherry, bitch! And if you give me any trouble, I'll break your back! Hear me? Hear me!" he shouted at the top of his voice.

With a quick motion the man tore a big strip off her blanket and wrapped it around her head, gagging her before she had a chance to scream.

"That'll shut you up, cunt!" he growled. "Now get ready for the treat of your fuckin' life!"

Carol screamed inside again and again. Her body twitched with tenor. She felt her father ripping her pajama bottoms away from her body, throwing the shreds over his shoulder. Her silken flesh was red in places where the cloth rubbed against her body, making marks as he tore it. In a flash she was naked from head to toe, naked and writhing in her bed, unable to utter a sound. She felt her father's heavy hand on her naked leg up near her thigh. He held her other leg, too, keeping her from moving.She tried to kick him but he slapped her hard across the face every time she did so.

"Guess I'll start with a nice taste of that sweet little cunt Eighteen years old. Eighteen years old and already you're a murderin' little whore! I guess you're gonna like a tongue in your twat" he gasped, falling against her, burying his face in the soft flesh of her belly.

Carol thought she would die of fright when she felt her father's now ugly face pressing against the soft flesh of her belly. She felt his face move lower, felt his thick lips sucking at the lender skin of her lower stomach. His face was soon between her legs, his hands gripping her hips hard. He pulled her forward, pulling her naked squirming body close to the end of the bed. He fell on his knees at the foot of the bed. Carol felt his hands spreading her legs wide. His lips pressed against the lips of her tiny naked cunt.

Carol had never been so embarrassed in her life. She had never felt anything quite like the feeling that coursed through her young trembling body when he touched his lips to her nearly hairless cunt She felt a strange tingling deep inside her pussy, a tingling that remained only barely separated from the sensations of fear and loathing, a feeling that she had always associated with fear for the zest of her life. The strange tingling. tugging, healing sensation continued to build in her crotch as her father proceeded with his brutal rape.

She felt his hot wet tongue separating the firm young lips of her virgin cunt, felt his tongue tickling the extremely sensitive inner flesh of hertiny twat. His tongue pressed into her pussy as far as it could go. The poor ravished girl could feel her father's hot moist breath against her crotch as he poked his tongue around inside her cunt.

The insane man began licking the crack of her cunt, his tongue lapping up and down her virgin gash, sliding over her barely fuzzed mound. He ate her pussy as if she were some nubile feast of flesh. She tried to struggle free from him but to no avail. Everytime she tried to throw him away from her he would slap her cruelly on the face. Her legs were already bruised where his rough powerful fingers dug into the flesh. Her crotch was sopping wet with the man's profusely flowing saliva.

"You like that, don't you, you hot little cunt?" he growled between her legs, as if addressing her pussy.

She shook her head negatively again and again, hoping against hope that he would gain control of himself before he hurt her any more, before he did any of the terrible things her aunt had warned her that men sometimes did to innocent young girls.

"You like that so much, bitch, I'm gonna give you a taste of this!" her father shouted at her.

The tall muscular man stood up and moved close to her, towering over the side of the bed. He stood with his hands on his hips. A huge, thick hard-on jutted out from his body at a ninety-degree angle. He had unzipped his pants while he was on his knees between his daughter's legs and had hauled out his swollen cock.

Carol had never seen anything like that before. She had seen young men' dicks many times, having beenshown such things by various young men in the neighborhood. She had even been talked into showing them her little twat from time to time. But she had had no idea in the world that a dick could get that big and hard. Her aunt had told her that such things could happen and that when cocks got hard like that some men would stick them into her cunt. She hadn't really believed her at first. Now she believed her and her tenor increased.

"You like that. Sure you do, cunt! That's what you've been wantin' for a long time. You want this goddamn cock up your fuckin' cunt! I've seen you lookin' at me kinda hungry like. Here! Taste it!" he growled, moving very close to her and rubbing the big purple head of his cock against his daughter's cheeks…

CHAPTER TWO

Carol wanted to die. She tried to roll off the bed but her father held her arm in a viselike grip. She felt the incredibly hot head of the enormous prick covering her silken cheeks with slippery pre-cum.She smelled the heavy masculine scent of his cock and it frightened her. He was like an animal now, hot and heartless. She knew he would do anything to her that came into his crazed mind. She felt his lightly swollen cockhead rubbing all over her face. She tried to turn away but he grabbed her throat and made her face him. He jabbed his hard, angry-looking cock against her forehead, against her eyes, against the strip of blanket that tightly covered her young lips. Her legs were flailing wildly.

"Now you're gonna get it good, you murderin' bitch! I'm gonna fuck you with this goddamn prick, baby! Get ready for the goddamn thrill of your life, cunt! This is just what you've always wanted from your daddy! Take this!" he growled, positioning himself at the foot of the bed, pulling her forward until her cunt was right at the edge of the mattress, spreading her young trembling legs.

Young Carol saw stars when she felt the terrible pain of her deflowering. The nearly hairless lips of her young cunt were suddenly split open by the massive flanged head of her father's cock. She felt the monstrous tool forcing itself into her virgin cunt hole. She screamed inside when she felt the hard, slippery head of the big dong tearing her cherry and sending searing pain through her young belly.

Her father began sawing in and out of her deflowered cunt, raping his young adopted daughter with disgusting relish, grunting and sweating in the throes of his taboo lust. She looked down the front of her impaled body and saw the horrid face of the man who had become like a stranger to her. His eyes glared at her, reflecting the deranged lust that burned within him. Her body was full of terrible pain, a pain which increased for the first few minutes of her rape until she thought she could bear it no longer.

And then a very strange thing began to happen deep inside her. She began to notice a strange warming feeling deep inside her cunt, a feeling that seemed to spread throughout her young body, a feeling that seemed to increase with each brutal thrust her father made into her torn pussy. The pain was still there, her bruises still hurt terribly, her cunt still hurt every time he rammed it with his big iron-hard cock. But this other sensation was almost pleasurable, although it was so intermeshed with the terrible pain her angry father was causing her as to be nearly inseparable from it.

She still tried desperately to fight him off. He slapped her hard every time she struggled hard enough to interfere with his brutal fucking. The strange sensation seemed to grow and grow within her, seemed to be centered in the little place between her legs that rubbed against the thick shaft of her father's huge hard-on. Her father seemed to be enjoying himself more and more. There was something in his eyes now besides anger and madness, a deep sadistic sexual enjoyment of his daughter, an enjoyment that continued to build by the minute.

Carol couldn't imagine what was making him grunt and sweat so wildly, as if he were madly excited about something. He stood on his tiptoes now, raising her young body up off the bed by the sheer strength of his massive hard-an. He seemed to grow tailor, taller and more terrifying. His cock seemed to grow inside her cunt, too. When she felt his dick suddenly swell inside her hole, she also felt the strangest thing happening to her twat. It was as if a dam had burst inside her, as if she were flooded all over with the warmness, most delicious tinglings and tuggings she had ever felt. She felt her body shaking uncontrollably, not out of fear now but out of something like pleasure, pleasure intermingled with the terrible pain of her rape.

It wasn't more than a second or two after the strange burst of pleasurable sensation deep inside her cunt that she felt her father suddenly increase his ramming speed. He fucked with wild abandon, his hands reaching out almost blindly, grasping her young titties, stroking her firm soft belly, grabbing her thighs. He touted something out loud, something she couldn't quite make out in the depths of her father's throaty voice. Then she felt something shooting inside her cunt, something hot and wet and voluminous. She thought the stuff would never stop coming out of her father's swollen cock. After the first three or four blasts into her cunt, she felt his cock pull out of her hole fast. She looked down between her legs in terror and saw the swollen shaft of his dick snap up against his belly when it pulled out of her raped pussy. Several squirts of something white and thick-looking shot from the end of his cock all the way to her face, covering it with slippery sperm.

Her father tore his clothes from his body and fell naked onto his young, once-virginal daughter, rolling around in the bed with her, growling the most obscene things he could think of and slapping her until she was covered with red spots and bruises. She began to wish that he would kill her to stop the pain and torture. And then the bedroom door flew open.

A shrill scream split the night like a siren. Aunt Arlene stood in the doorway, a look of tenor and disgust on her face. Before her father could raise his drunken body up off the bed, her aunt had bolted from the room and hurried downstairs to call the police. Carol had never been so glad to see anyone in her life before or since. The police arrived in a few minutes and found the madman still rolling in bed with his gagged and tortured daughter. They dragged him away and locked him up. Carol was never to see him again. It had been a horrible ideal of shame and pain for the eighteen-year-old Carol. Physically she hadn't been too badly hurt. A three-week stay in the hospital, more for recovery of her emotional stability than her physical health, had made life bearable for her again. She had been released in the custody of her aunt, who cared for her like her own child, carefully putting a stop to her former tales of rape and the necessity to protect a girl's moral purity. She hadn't been made to feel any great lingering shame about the night with her father. It hadn't been her fault after all.

Her life hadn't been particularly unhappy with her aunt. She had gone to the best schools and had learned to adapt to her fatherless home life. Shehad learned that aggressiveness was necessary in the business world, the world that she had chosen to conquer. And her aggressiveness had served her well. But even though her life had been happy from outward appearances, enough remained within her from the terrible night her father raped her to make her life far from complete.

She had found it terribly difficult to enjoy sex with the many men who lusted after her, although she had managed to admit them to her bedroom and to her cunt. But something always made her hold back. She had orgasms, sometimes even came close to enjoying herself when fucking a horny admirer. But there was always fear lurking somewhere in her mind, fear of the hairy, struggling, sweating man who had raped her so brutally.

Lately she had begun to fear men even more. As her lovers approached the age of her father that terrible night, she began to see hint in them, began to imagine the same disgusting motivations in them that she had seen in her father that night. She began to feel used, began to feel they saw her merely as a cunt, a hole to fuck, and it was this nagging suspicion that made her cool toward men, at least in recent months. She recognized this fear as the shadow of the man who had broken her young hymen so brutally. But merely recognizing the fear for what it was and escaping it were entirely different things.

Carol refused to believe that there was anything deeply wrong with her psychologically. Such admissions were foreign to her. She was a stubbornand strong woman emotionally. She could weather any emotional storm and come out in one piece. She had done it before and she could do it again. But the storm that was brewing inside her this time was to be too much even for her. It would make her life topsy-turvy and throw her into whirlpools of sexual exploration that would make even Carol's free-thinking mind swim.

Carol was beginning to feel herself attracted to young men, men between the ages of Eighteen and nineteen. It was an attraction that she had forced herself to accept as part of her emotional makeup, even though she knew and had known all along that such attractions were taboo. She had noticed this attraction years ago. Now that her fear of men her own age was increasing, she found her attraction toward young men increasing apace. She didn't entirely understand the deep emotions that drove her, but she recognized them as powerful forces in her life. Something told her that -a new episode in her sex life was about to open.

It was the tenderness, the innocence of young men that made her cunt hot. She felt a deep hunger within her, a hunger for their bodies and souls. She knew that they would not hurt her, knew that their motivations were less aggressive, knew that she would be the aggressive one in any relationship she started with a young boy. She knew that she would feel safe with a boy, safe and free to give her all in the hot fucking that she craved.

Young men were everywhere around her, it seemed. The more she grew to crave the love anddedication of a young boy the more she noticed them.11 around her. She had never married, fearing entrapment in an endless cycle of distrust and increasing unhappiness. But her friends had married and their sons were a constant temptation for her.

There was little Joey next door. At least he had been little Joey, until recently he had begun to develop into young manhood. But he was still little Joey as far as Carol was concerned. She was powerfully attracted to the boy. He was a bit shy and retiring, just the kind of trait that made her cunt melt inside. He was very good-looking, almost pretty in a boyish sort of way. She loved to watch the boy swimming in her pool. He had brothers, too, Nick and Brad, twins of nineteen. Joey was only nineteen, but he showed signs of developing sexually far faster than usual in a boy that young.

Carol had found herself staring at the kid recently. The Mastersons didn't have a pool of their own and she had opened hers to her favorite young men. She had caught herself looking between the boy's hairless young legs, trying to determine the size of the cock and balls that nestled there under his tight trunks. Just thinking about the boy's developing young genitals and what hot fun she could have with them made her dizzy with excitement. She had found herself dwelling on such thoughts more and more lately. She began to look upon every boy she saw as a prospective fuck. It was a constant torture for her.

Carol knew perfectly well that. lust for young men was one thing that would not be tolerated ina woman of thirty-five. Such activities were taboo, although she knew perfectly well that some women lusted after young men and got away with it. She was hip enough to realize that people got away with all sorts of things behind closed doors. And yet the taboo had held her back. She knew that it would not hold her back much longer. Her cunt was simply too powerful an influence on her actions.

She had always been very responsive sexually. She was known as a hot-assed woman among the men who had fucked her, and even then she had held back due to her fear of them, although none of them had realized it. Her twat had been blazing lately, blazing with lust for the cocks of young men. She felt the heat even now as she reclined in her chaise, a heat more intense than the heat of the summer sun, a heat so intense that it transcended the state of confusion that made her thoughts confused and had made her. remember her father and her rape, a heat that made her cunt chum and froth wildly.

She began to writhe inside. Her hand was drawn between her lovely long and silken legs, drawn to the swelling lips of her cunt. She put her warm hand over her cunt, feeling the heat through, the skimpy bikini that covered her twat. She couldn't resist rubbing her box, couldn't resist responding to the powerful sexual urge that stained her hot, moistening pussy.

She began stroking her thighs, massaging them until her flesh tingled. Her hand went back to her barely concealed snatch. She rubbed the mound ofher cunt with a gentle circular motion. Then she sneaked her fingers up under her bikini, pushing the material away until she could feel the naked lips of her cunt. She stroked her gash for a while, feeling the ever-increasing surges of pleasure that coursed through her.

Finger-fucking was the only way in which she had found true sexual fulfillment. She hated to do such things to herself, not because she thought there was anything morally wrong with it but because it was such a pale excuse for the ecstasy she knew she would feel if she had a boy's cock inside her cunt instead of her own fingers. And yet even diddling was better than having a straining, powerful, hulking animal between her naked legs, pounding into her cunt with the wildness and greed that made her sick inside.

She found the tiny turgid little bud of her sensitive clitoris and began scratching at it gently with the tip of her fingernail. With each touch of her nail, her horniness increased. She ran her fingers through the nest of light-blonde hair that covered her cunt, imagining that her fingers were the exploring and trembling finger of lacy or one of the many young men she knew. Her other hand fell to her cunt, too, her fingers sneaking in under the material of her bikini from the other side.

With both hands she spread open the lips of her trembling, excited snatch, feeling the juices of her passion covering her fingers with musky dew. She wished she were opening the lips of her pussy for one of the young men she wanted to fuck so badly, wished she were exposing her cunt obscenely,making them tremble in the presence of her lovely naked body, making them stir deep in their young hairless balls with passion for her.

She closed her eyes and imagined Joey as he would look standing beside her wearing his tight swim trunks and staring between her legs at her wet cunt. She tried to imagine the look of amazement on his sensitive face. She tried to imagine how his nineteen-year-old cock would begin to swell and lengthen inside his trunks. She imagined herself reaching out to touch him between the legs, imagined herself feeling the hardening rod that rested hot and heavy between his slender young legs. She imagined the look of fright on his face as she let him know of her long-hidden desire to fuck him.

"Oh, Joey!" she cried softly. "Oh, Joey! Let me see your young dick. I want to touch it, darling. Would you like to see my cunt? Would you like to touch me there? See how wet it is? See how hot and hairy my cunt is, darling? Don't be afraid. Come closer, darling. I won't hurt you, Joey. Feel my cunt! Feel my luscious cunt! Lick it! Taste my hot cunt! Does it look like your mother's cunt, darling? Have you ever seen your mother's cunt? You'll love the things I'm going to do to you, Joey!" she heard herself say.

Carol was amazed to discover that she had fallen so deeply into the depths of her hot imaginings that she was whispering some of her thoughts out loud. Her hand continued to work against the hot red bud of her clitoris, driving her wilder and wilder by the second. She began to imagine youngcocks of all shapes and sizes, all poking at her from the groins of innocent young men who worshiped her, who would do anything for her.She began to moan in the wild ecstasy of her sexual passion, wiggling uncontrollably. Her fingers fucked fast and furiously in her swollen gash. Her cunt twitched and ran with dew. "Joey… Joey!" she moaned softly in the throes of her impending climax.

"Miss Chambers!" she heard a young boy's frightened voice say.

She opened her eyes and sat bolt upright in the chair, pulling her wet fingers from her cunt and wheeling around in the direction of the voice. It Was Joey, staring wide-eyed at his lovely neighbor lady.

CHAPTER THREE

"Joey! My God! What… what are you doing here?" Carol gasped, terrified at being discovered finger-fucking her exposed cunt so obscenely.

"Me? Uh…I…I just came over 'cause I wanted to take a swim," the boy gasped, shocked terribly by the sight of Miss Chambers in such a wantonly displayed state.

"Swim? Yes… go ahead," Carol said vacantly, her eyes glassy, her hand over her lovely mouth.