The Widow's Companion free porn video

Chapter 1


Dominique Carter placed the highball in the hand of the buxom blonde
thirteen year old and stepped back, her deep green eyes smiling
felinely.

"Go on, dear, there's no harm in it," she coaxed. "It's just a little
highball."

But Ellen Winthrop, whose father had died nine months previous after an
acute bout with alcoholism, shook her pretty head firmly. Her satiny
soft long blonde hair flew attractively around her perfectly oval
youthful face. The long dark lashes over her sparkling, innocent blue
eyes fluttered as she refused, saying, "Oh, but I couldn't, Mrs.
Carter. My mother wouldn't permit it."

Dominique smiled indulgently and took the glass from her again. She
shook out her long red hair and said sweetly, "Well, that's right,
dear. You should always do what your mother tells you." Damnit, a small
voice whispered inside her head.

Not that this terrible primness didn't make their lovely young neighbor
all the more intoxicating company. At times Dominique suspected that it
was this very naivete that was driving herself and her husband Maxwell
so wild with anticipation. Ellen was so unremittingly good that Maxwell
was really going out of his mind for her, and Handsome, their big
German shepherd was as well. Handsome sniffed around the sweet over-
developed teenager to an extent which even made Dominique not a little
jealous. But if the anticipation was excruciating, so also was their
fierce desire to get some good movies of Ellen misbehaving. She was the
most gorgeous little piece of femininity and perfection they had run
into in a long time, and any film footage they could get of her would
sell like hotcakes, literally. Men always liked performers who were
busty with long blonde hair, for some reason, and in addition there was
the incentive of Ellen's healthy nubile youth, which was considerable.

At only thirteen she was rounded and developed with curves that any
eighteen year old would have been proud of. Her large, gravity-defying
breasts -- which she appeared to be somewhat uncomfortable about --
were positively mouth-watering, to hear Maxwell tell it, and she knew
that Handsome wanted to lap them as well. In addition, the child had
almost no waist -- which then flared out into opulent hourglass hips
just born for sex. And then there were those long, long legs tapering
into tiny ankles and dainty feet. Ellen had been put together like a
human aphrodisiac. No doubt she towered over her teacher in grammar
school as well. She was probably the most striking thing her teachers
had ever seen.

Dominique sighed and sipped her highball. The entire affair had become
all too frustrating. They hadn't had any of this delay and difficulty
with their other conquests. It hadn't taken too long for most of them
to fall for Handsome, that rugged, demanding beast, or at the very
least for her handsome husband Maxwell. And most of them had been
teenagers as well, usually neighborhood girls of good background who
they were eventually able to get liquored up enough so that they
totally lost their heads and could be seduced readily into performing
for Midwest Motion Pictures, Incorporated.

They, too, had had long hair of varying shades, and voluptuous
physiques, which was why they had been chosen. The Carters' customers
liked especially well these pert and clean-cut, fresh-looking
youngsters. Their innocent wholesomeness appeared to be more thrilling
than the blatant sensuality of the average actress who was willing to
do sex scenes for pay. Which was why she and Maxwell always went to the
lengthy trouble of these elaborate seductions. Their customers paid
more for girls of obvious gentility, virginity, purity, and refinement.

Except that Ellen now had them stymied. Five months of plying her with
bon-bons, long trips in their wire-wheeled custom-made Lamborghini
motorcar, flights in their private plane, pretty little gifts of
bewildering variety and so-on, nothing had served in the slightest to
unbend the gorgeous voluptuous blonde teenager's legs from the way they
crossed so elegantly over her golden -- and no doubt virginal -- pussy-
slit. Dominique could sigh indeed. They already had a lengthy
investment in this luscious child of nature. It was going to be
difficult to write her off as a bad job. Money didn't grow on trees.

"Are you ready out there?" came Maxwell's deep voice from in back of
their private motion picture screen, which had descended smoothly and
silently from its hidden recess in the ceiling of the Carters' living
room.

"We are lover," Dominique called back. "Fire away."

"Here we go."

Suddenly the sound came up at the same time as the picture, the house
lights dimmed, and they were looking at the opening reel of "Straw
Dogs."

The Carters had their own motion picture facilities at home, of course,
and quite elaborate ones they were. They were also a means of
impressing young impressionables, for they always showed the latest
Hollywood films as well, often before these were showing in legitimate
movie houses. Most of them were pirated jobs, but the innocent young
girls who made it a point to visit the Carters didn't know this. They
just assumed that the Carters were impossibly rich and influential, and
that all the big studios sent them prints of their films as a matter of
course.

Ellen sat back, her legs still sweetly crossed. Her long blonde hair
had fluffed in back of the couch she was sitting on. There was no
denying she was impressed by the Carters. In the five months since her
widowed mother and herself had moved to Kenilworth, intent on putting
out of their minds the unfortunate demise of her adored father, the
Carters had gone out of their way to help them forget. They took her
mother and herself on little shopping trips, and sent them presents,
took them out to dinner, and so on. They were the most generous people
Ellen had ever known.

Dominique Carter squeezed her slender smooth hand and Ellen blushed. In
recent months Mrs. Carter had been more of a mother to her than her own
mother almost, and the amount of time the Carters seemed to spend on
her was really amazing. She had never known people could be so sweet
and thoughtful, and without any consideration for themselves. Mr.
Carter had even offered her a chance to take the controls of his
private plane, although, of course, she had refused. What a great deal
of money they must have to be able to afford such gestures! And the way
they were always talking about their vacations in Bermuda, Rio de
Janeiro, Sun Valley, Mallorca, St. Moritz, Paris, Monte Carlo, the
French Riviera, Hollywood, Palm Beach, and the Far East! Apparently
they had the money to be able to afford to go anywhere and do anything.

She didn't suppose that she would ever be that rich. Her father's
insurance had left just enough to leave them comfortably well off, and
when her mother had sold their house in Winnetka (her big old house,
with the big playroom and nursery she had grown up in, and which she
loved so well) they had bought their smaller, but more luxurious,
bungalow down the street from the Carters, shaded by tall oaks and with
an immense backyard perfect for sunning. It was just such a sunny day
when they had first run into the Carters, who had come walking through
the alley with Handsome on a leash, and then stopped to say hello and
have some idle chatter.

Ellen had been impressed with them from the very first. Maxwell Carter
had seemed so impossibly urbane and worldly, with his wavy black hair
and the handmade pipe he was forever lighting. He dressed with rugged
lavishness, expensively, so that he looked not so much the workman as
the wealthy outdoors-man. He used a great deal of leather and suede in
his apparel, and it was always finely cut and usually brand new.
Everything he wore looked custom made just for him -- from the belted
Austrian hunting jackets to his Charles III buckled boots. He was
mature, worldly, sophisticated. Dominique Carter was a lucky woman.

And their wealth, while obvious, was always in good taste in a similar
vein. In addition to their white Cadillac convertible they also kept
the classic Lamborghini, a Rolls-Royce, and a battered old Ford station
wagon. While Mrs. Carter, in addition to her minks, also wore leopard
and silver fox with some frequency. Her clothes were beautiful and in
good taste. Everything seemed to be an original from somewhere or
other, or ready-made from Saks or Marshall Field. "Oh, just some little
thing Christian Dior made up for me, darling," Dominique Carter would
say casually. "He's such a dear."

Now as she sat on the couch in front of the movie screen, Mrs. Carter's
hand slipped casually out of hers and rested just as casually on
Ellen's full firm thigh. Ellen didn't mind. Dominique was like a
secondary mother to her, or a fairy aunt. And she was a perfectly
normal girl in that her primitive, vague and immature yearnings were
oriented only towards the male sex. At the tender age of thirteen,
while of womanly proportions already, Ellen still knew nothing at all
of lesbianism, and scarcely much more about ordinary sex.

The innocent young girl glanced across at Maxwell Carter, who was
sitting sidewise across from them, on the other long black leather
couch, apparently deep in thought, his usual urbane and distant self as
the motion pictured droned on.

But why had they picked her upon which to lavish all this attention and
praise? Dominique Carter was constantly buying her "some little thing;"
her mother didn't seem to mind. Perhaps it was all due to the fact that
the Carters had no children of their own.

But that didn't seem quite right, either. Dominique Carter was
certainly young enough to have children, even though she was too svelte
and sophisticated to seem exactly the motherly type. And with a
gorgeous statuesque figure like hers, Ellen imagined that her husband
probably found no end of excuse to do with her what it was that men did
with women for the purpose of impregnating them. She certainly could
not believe that the Carters were anything less than normal. Mr.
Carter's virility was a palpable flavor in the air, while Dominique had
an aura of such worldly sensuality that Ellen only hoped that some day
she could equal that masterful air of feminine confidence which
suffused everything Dominique did. If only ...

"Look at this," Maxwell whispered across to them. Handsome stepped over
to Ellen and laid his furry snout in her lap, gazing up at her with
what appeared to be adoring eyes. It was not in her youthful innocence
to perceive any sensuality in the handsome brute's face. Handsome was,
after all, just a dog.

"Terrific," Maxwell muttered.

Ellen blinked and she struggled to focus. As usual, the surroundings in
the Carters' enormous den were so restful that she had quite drifted
off with her pubescent daydreaming. She realized now that she had been
paying scarcely any attention at all to the movie, although it appeared
to be an interesting one. The mood of decor in the Carters' library-den
as usual, had tended to act as a mild soporific on her teenage
sensibilities. The ancient prints on the walls, the long hanging red
tapestries, the abundance of leather, wood, and fine Mediterranean
tooling workmanship in everything -- from mantel piece to chair arm to
carpeting to bookcase -- the high covered windows, everything gave one
a feeling of having settled into a warmish, quiet cocoon conducive to
thoughtful meditation. Then the incense that the Carters were so fond
of lighting was another factor. She invariably found herself becoming
slow and lazy in this room, in particular when they showed films. Her
mind just seemed to drift off.

But now Mr. Carter's verbal notations had served to waken her
observation, and what she observed was more than she bargained for.

The sort of films the Carters usually showed her were Mary Poppins'
sort of things, with the occasional violent western thrown in for good
measure. They had never shown her anything even the most wee bit sexy.
And yet she realized now that what she was seeing in Straw Dogs had
some very strong sexual overtones. In particular where the young man's
wife -- the American man's wife -- appears at the window with her
healthy young breasts showing, before the trio of workmen working on
the garage roof of her husband's new house.

And what Mr. Carter was now pointing out was apparently a rape scene,
for the big blond man was in the American's house while he was away,
and he was slapping his pretty blonde wife and making her take her
clothes off.

Ellen started as she realized what was happening to herself right here
in this room. Mrs. Carter was gently stroking her skirted thigh with
her thumb, and Handsome had nuzzled his nose deeply in her lap, almost
brushing her panty-covered loins, but she didn't notice any of that.
What really set her mind and her loins aglow was the realization that
the big young man in the film had actually put his penis into the
beautiful blonde young housewife!

Ellen gasped and put her hand to her sultry red mouth. She couldn't
really believe this was happening, before her very eyes! For the pretty
housewife, the nipples of her breasts showing in the most blatant way,
seemed actually to be undergoing sex as the handsome man stuffed his
long thick thing up inside of her belly, working it around with
agonizing slowness. And a few seconds later, when the housewife
obviously came, it was the most intoxicating experience Ellen had ever
witnessed in her entire young life!

"She seemed to enjoy that, didn't she?" Dominique asked silkily, her
voice a soft essence wafted against Ellen's shell-like smooth ear.

"Well -- I --" stammered Ellen, unable to know what to say, at a total
loss. She had never before ever actually seen anyone having sex. Her
loins seemed to be full of butterflies. The man in the film had
obviously made love to the beautiful blonde housewife in the film, and
clearly she had enjoyed it.

"Don't be pushy, Dom," came Maxwell Carter's understanding baritone
from the other couch. "After all, Ellen's only thirteen years old.
She's just a child."

Exactly the sort of statement calculated to put any teenager on the
defensive and eager to prove that she could be as sexy as any grown
woman.

Ellen rose to the bait. Smarting under Mr. Carter's patronizing tone,
she instinctively sat up straighter in order to thrust out her proudly
uplifted breasts. Her long blonde curls danced in back of her
shoulders. "I am not such a child as all that, Mr. Carter," she
insisted through her sensuously pouting lips. "I know all about sex,
you know."

Carter could not repress a faint little smirk at their perty prey's
behavior. "From biology books in school, no doubt," he said wryly,
clinking his ice around in his highball glass as he goaded her still
further. "And I thought we agreed that you would call me Maxwell,
Ellen."

"Maxwell, then," she stammered, flustered. "Well, no, not from biology
books -- that is ..."

"Where then, dear?" asked Dominique, pressing her hand affectionately
around Ellen's.

"Well, I -- that is ... the girls at school ... my mother ... oohhhhh
..." Her voice trailed off as she focused again on the sexual action on
the screen. Something had happened! A second man had appeared with a
knife and had forced the first man to force the housewife to submit to
something else. It appeared as if the second man was doing something
behind her. But what? It was all so confused. She wasn't sure if she
could make out anything very clearly, really.

"Looks like he's sodomizing her," Maxwell Carter said casually.

"He's what?" Ellen asked, mystified.

"Sodomizing her, darling," said Dominique, pressing her hand warmly
again. "That's a form of sex -- probably the most satisfying there is."

Ellen's eyes screwed up. How did they get to talking about sex all of a
sudden? Even though the Carters spoke with easy authority, she had the
subtle feeling that something was not quite right in their
conversation. And as for this sodomizing business, if that was the best
sex, how come she hadn't heard anything about it? Her mother certainly
hadn't said anything about it.

But anyway that scene was quickly over and then her embarrassed
confusion subsided again. Everything returned to normal. The warmish
feeling in her loins gradually pulled back like a receding wave from a
tropical shore.

There was in the remainder of the film some really grisly violence of
fairly standard American variety, but none of it especially disturbed
her. Then she looked at the lovely platinum watch the Carters had given
her and exclaimed about the time. She had promised her mother that she
would be home early. She said a hurried but pleasant good night to the
Carters and then rushed off into the darkness of the evening.



Chapter 2


"That little cunt has cost us a fortune," said Maxwell when she had
gone, his voice thick with disgust as he scratched Handsome's ears.

"I'll say," agreed Dominique, putting out her cigarette in the nearest
ashtray. Then she began undoing the belt on her robe until it opened
fully, revealing the sumptuous pears of her high, widely-spaced
breasts, the molten white belly beneath with its soft nest of auburn
pussy hair, and the long slender columns of her legs. She lay back on
the couch and spread her legs open lazily. The big German shepherd
didn't need any further cue than that. He left his master and hurried
across the carpet to burrow his nose into his mistress' warmly scented
pussy. Dominique sighed and ran her fingers over the handsome dog's
sleek furry head. In another moment the well-trained show dog's tongue
had lanced out and speared into the quivering pink flesh of her cuntal
lips, sending a surge of fire burning through her loins and upward into
the rest of her wantonly excited body right to the very ends of her
hair.

"Spent a fortune on that fucking tail," Maxwell muttered unhappily
again, his voice slurring this time. He finished a spare drink on the
coffee table, then got up and went over to the bamboo-and-leopard skin
bar to mix himself another.

Dominique's eyes turned dreamy as the big German shepherd's thick red
tongue began twisting in and out of her cunt like a corkscrew. "Maybe
we should use our more extreme procedure, lover," she croaked huskily,
her eyes fluttering with passion.

"We don't dare," said Maxwell, corking a bottle and shaking his head.
"She's only thirteen years old. Any seduction has to be of her own
accord. She has to come to us with her eyes wide open. She has to
seduce herself. Any other course would be strictly suicide."

"In that case, it's time to leave it with Handsome, lover."

"Probably." Maxwell Carter looked over at the powerful dog whose tongue
was dredging his wife's wetly surging vagina like a steam shovel
excavating Roman finds. Handsome was always the court of last resort;
and he had never failed them yet.

Still, though, this was a tricky one. A thirteen year old gorgeous
blonde of total innocence. A real challenge! He couldn't remember when
before they had encountered such striking blonde wholesomeness. He
wanted to see her long, satiny blonde hair cascading over a pillow to
form a cushion for her pretty head as he moved upward through her
widespread thighs with his warmly throbbing cock working slowly through
the moist tendrils and wetly sucking lips of her young virginal cunt,
fucking the shit out of the sweet little bitch; he coughed at the
thought.

Ellen Winthrop had the body of a lush young Venus, and it had been all
Maxwell could do to control his hands in the months they had known her.
Fortunately his head had ruled his heart. Finesse always proved the
most potent master in the end; and it was lasting. Rape seductions
occasionally worked out, but there was always the danger that they
might not. Particularly with one so young, where the aspect of painful
entrance might assume sizable proportions.

He closed his eyes, considering her lushly ripened breasts whose rose-
tipped nipples appeared so prominent even through her brassiere and
sweater combined. The child had a slender, girlish waist, luscious
round hips, a flat, smooth stomach and long, full-swelling thighs. Her
breathtakingly curved calves tapered down into thin, well-formed
ankles. And over all of that, her wealth of shining blonde hair. Just
one reel of her being taken from behind by Handsome could make a
fortune for them. And if that fiercely kissable, sultry young mouth
could ever be coaxed into wrapping itself around the dog's enormous
pulsating red cock --! Ellen had an almost classical, dainty Greek
nose, with a lower lip that protruded in an almost perpetual little-
girl pout, a round dimpled chin, and a soft, slightly tanned ivory
complexion. To see that pretty young face energetically sucking on
Handsome's throbbing, richly-veined penis would be a treat no
reasonable buyer could refuse. They had to get her at all cost!

Downing his drink swiftly, he went to the secret panel on the wall of
the library, where he pressed a button and a hidden videotape camera
came sliding into view from one corner of the ceiling. It hissed and
clicked as it focused on Handsome's lavish oral attention he was giving
to his lovely auburn-haired mistress Dominique, who was already
hurtling through her first orgasm of the evening with a gurgling cry of
delight that made the heavy drapes on the high windows of the library
seem to tremble.

* * * * *

Three houses down on Kenwood Lane from the Carters, the cute teenager
had already dozed pleasantly off on the two-seater sofa in her bedroom,
her long legs curled up underneath her. She had meant to take a nice
hot bath before retiring, but she had gotten so caught up in her third
re-reading of Jane Austen's Wuthering Heights -- which she thought was
the most romantic novel ever written, next to Little Women, that she
had quite dozed off. This was not so uncommon; she frequently fell
asleep reading some nice romantic story, though usually only in bed.

But now she had suddenly bolted upright to a sitting position. She had
been awakened by a noise from down the hall. It sounded like the
muffled squeal of some animal being put to slaughter. At first she had
heard it as merely a part of her dream, but when it had come again,
more forcefully, it had jarred her into alertness.

Something was wrong in her mother's room, she was sure of it. Other
muffled sounds were echoing through the thick wall also. Sounds that
were not familiar to her, but which seemed to be cries of terror and
pleading. She looked at her watch. It was still early. She had probably
not been asleep very long, even though it had seemed so.

She got up groggily from the sofa and drifted over to the bed, trying
to analyze the nature of what she was hearing. She didn't want to make
a fool of herself if nothing was wrong. Perhaps her mother merely had
the television on too loud. Or it could be that she had gone to sleep
early and was having a nightmare herself.

There was silence then for a long moment, and then another sound, this
time of movement. It sounded as though something were being thrown
bodily onto a squeaking bed. She could not be certain, of course. Her
mother's bedroom was separated from her own by the main bathroom.

Not switching on the lamp, she made her way through the darkness to the
door, pressing her ear tightly against it in order to listen better.
There was the unmistakable sound of a heavy, dragging movement
somewhere. She thought also she could hear whimpering but it was
impossible to tell for sure.

She hesitated for a moment, not sure just what to do. Certainly if
something were drastically wrong, her mother would scream. She would
certainly hear that, if she did. She listened intently, waiting
silently, her hand frozen on the doorknob.

There was a long low moan coming softly discernible from the other side
now. This convinced her! Her mother might be ill and unable to move for
some reason. She hadn't been feeling too well earlier on, and it might
even be serious. She had been quite distraught when father had died,
and not quite right since. Perhaps Ellen should take just a quick look
quietly so as not to disturb her if she were merely having a bad dream.

The apprehensive young blonde stepped into the bathroom between their
rooms, and then slipped quietly across the tiles to the door to her
mother's bedroom. Silently, she turned the doorknob and opened the door
just a crack. She scanned the room, her eyes adjusting to the dim glow
of the bedlamp.

And then her heart leaped in her throat! For there, on the bed, was her
mother, Amy Winthrop, her long black hair streaming, her naked body
churning passionately underneath, with a man on top of her!

He was obviously trying to rape her! The man had her pinned to the bed
and had forced her legs open with his own muscular thighs. Ellen felt
frozen to the floor. She almost let out a scream but choked it back
with the palm of her hand. It was unbelievable! She started to shake
uncontrollably, then bit down hard on her hand to keep from crying out.
She was shaking too hard to close the door and just stood there
helplessly trying to regain her composure. What should she do? She knew
it would do no good for her to attempt to intervene. And then she might
get raped as well. Or worse! He might kill them both.

But at the same time she couldn't seem to tear herself away from the
fiercely lascivious scene. Her own mother! Being fucked! A man had his
penis inside her! It was ghastly -- but at the same time heart-stopping
and intoxicating as well. Ellen had only a minimal knowledge of what
sex was all about, despite her premature development, and her curiosity
was stronger than her terror in finding her mother was being violated.

So she watched horrified and thrilled all put together, unable to move,
as her naked mother struggled beneath the twilight-shrouded man on the
bed. Ellen had a good view of them, although she could not see who the
man was except that he was naked and wearing only a pair of socks.

By now her mother had her ankles locked tightly around the man's hairy
thighs as he moved up inside her. Ellen's breath caught and her
nostrils flared as she watched them, her loins suffusing with a warmish
kind of sweetness. The man's body rose and fell powerfully between her
mother's long white legs, pinning them even wider apart on each
punishing in-stroke. Now Ellen could make out his wetly glistening
penis as it moved rhythmically in and out of her mother's splayed
cuntal lips, gobbling it into her as if it were candy, then clinging to
the thick base as it slid out on the upward stroke.

God, it was immense! Ellen had never seen a man naked like this before,
not even her father. How on earth could a female take such a huge thing
up inside her belly? She didn't see how her mother kept it from
splitting her open.

For a moment the man's penis lay quiet, like a great log, along the
visibly throbbing vaginal furrow, the two great testicles hanging down
wickedly from its hairy base. The trembling young girl could see the
foreskin slipping back over the pulsating purplish tip as it slid down
along her mother's widespread buttocks, the blood-engorged head
bursting forth again like some primeval monster crawling evilly from
its lair. And then the long thick cock slid smoothly forward again, its
entire wet length again being devoured hungrily by the voracious lips
of her mother's cunt.

Ellen stood transfixed, her golden hair practically standing on end,
unable to take her eyes off the lewd spectacle in front of her. She
could not understand why her mother had stopped struggling underneath
this brutal monster. Now there seemed to be a continual flow of deeply
felt incoherent moans from her moistly parted lips. Her naked body
seemed to be churning in an altogether different manner now. It was
almost as if her mother actually wanted that enormous penis to be
sawing in and out of her.

Ellen found herself breathing more rapidly in a growing excitement. She
could see clearly the exposed hair-covered vaginal furrow up between
her mother's trembling thighs. The narrow red slit glistened wetly in
the dim light, and she could make out the mouth-shaped lips of the cunt
that seemed even from this distance to be stretched so cruelly apart by
that lust-thickened shaft of flesh. Even as the thirteen year old girl
watched, it contracted, opened, and closed like the mouth of a gasping
fish out of the water.

The man's hand reached down between them on one outstroke, grasping his
long hard instrument, and raised his buttocks high in the air, pulling
out until only its bulbous head remained within me sucking mouth of her
mother's feverishly churning cunt. Ellen watched and listened horrified
as the muscles of his powerful ass-cheeks tensed, and then he drove
into her whimpering mother again brutally, sinking his heavily veined
shaft all the way into her wet gaping channel until only a brief
stretch of it showed, moist and glistening, jutting out from his hairy
balls. Ellen winced as her mother's unearthly wailing cry came like the
scream of a wounded animal, her toes curling up in what Ellen felt
certain must be some terrible agony.

Now the two nakedly entwined fingers on the bed seemed to be locked in
a stillness more mobile than motion. Ellen's heart pounded like a
jackhammer until she was certain everyone on Kenwood Lane could hear
it. She pressed a fist tightly into her budding young breasts as if to
dull that thudding sound in her ears.

Gradually the male began a slow rocking motion over her lewdly impaled
and moaning mother. He withdrew slightly, the thick fleshy penis
sliding out for several inches, then thrust forward again, grinding his
hips in order to move it around inside of her tightly clasping vagina.
Then he withdrew again until the throbbing glans head could be seen by
the hypnotized blonde teenager. Her mouth dropped open in disbelief as
her mother's long full legs wrapped sinuously, almost affectionately,
around his naked buttocks, squirming in togetherness under him, her
heels firming snugly into the cheeks of his buttocks as if she were
straining to pull him even deeper inside of her. The cords on the
insides of her thighs flexed as she pushed her hair-covered pussy back
up over his moistly glistening penis. Her hollowing buttocks lifted
several inches off the bed as she struggled upward, desperately trying
to absorb the entirety of the long thick cock back into the fleshy pink
folds of her hungry cunt and a wet viscous sound drifted through the
room each time her pussy slithered up its full length like a cat
climbing a tree trunk. Her flexing buttocks began a rhythmic beat up
and down his heavily ridged manhood, and his swaying testicles slapped
in time against the puckering little anus below.

Ellen gasped, for suddenly her mother began mouthing obscenities as
well, saying words she had never even dreamed her mother knew, the sort
of words only "bad" girls used at school. There was no question in her
mind that if she had ever used such words before her mother, she would
have been soundly spanked, yet now -- there she was, her own beautiful,
long-haired brunette mother, leading light of the PTA, the Junior
Women's League, and the First Episcopalian Church of Winnetka,
thrashing lewdly in the throes of obscene passion beneath this man,
uttering words of such ardent filth that Ellen wanted to put her hands
over her ears against them. Those were forbidden words that brought a
guilty tingling glow into the pulsing center up between the thirteen
year old's legs. They drummed incessantly into the watching girl's
mind, who stood unable to move as if she had been turned to stone. Was
this the quiet, reserved Amy Winthrop who was her mother, the aloof
widow who was such a tower of strength to all who knew her? God, if her
mother could be driven into such insane submission to a man she had
fought so strenuously only moments before, then maybe it could happen
to anyone! Maybe even to her, Ellen Winthrop. The bosomy blonde
teenager felt a slight electric tingle of excitement dart from wall-to-
wall within her palpitating little cunt.

Now she watched thunderstruck as again the man's hand curled beneath
Amy's nakedly pumping buttocks and the tip of his outstretched middle
finger circled tantalizingly the rubbery ring of the tightly puckered
anus. It played there for a long teasing moment that brought another
tortured groan from the lewdly twisting body beneath him as his finger
slipped through the protective fleshy ring and disappeared up inside
her rectum. Mrs. Winthrop's legs kicked out again and there was another
tortured wail with her toes curling up tightly. Then her legs locked
over his body again, and her buttocks began pumping savagely over both
invaders.

Ellen was trembling violently and biting her fist to keep from
screaming. Was her mother experiencing terrible pain or terrible joy?
It was impossible to tell. Her helpless ears were literally drenched
with their sounds of depravity. And then the squeak of bedsprings, the
moans and groans and huffing hard breathing, the portrait of tangle
limbs, all combined to ignite smoldering sparks in that most sensitive
of flesh up between her own legs. By now the itch was driving her
frantic as much as anything else. She clamped her legs tightly together
to try to choke off that bursting fire.

As if in a dream, her hands began involuntarily to massage the
straining softness of her budding young breasts, trapping the trembling
nipples between her fingers, kneading and pulling at them until it felt
as though she would rip them loose from the full quivering mounds. She
groaned and found her fingers pressing tightly into her vaginal mound
and drumming at her clitoris, trying to rub away the terrible sensation
of need that was raging out of control.

Her long trembling legs scissored open, one foot just sort of dangling
as she supported herself against the doorjamb. She could feel her own
hair-lined little pussy slit now moistly palpitating against the tips
of her fingers which drew the narrow furrow open, exposing the lips of
her pulsating cunt to the warmish, musky air of the room. With a groan,
she sunk her outstretched middle finger deep into the warmly throbbing
mouth of her vagina. The trembling thirteen year old held her breath,
relieved momentarily, but the moment of relief was brief. For now the
fire seemed to burn all the more intensely, demanding more to feed its
obscene hunger. She inserted another finger, then slid, gasping to the
cold tile floor of the bathroom.

After a second, she drew her knees up into a kneeling position, with
her firm young buttocks high in the air. The squeak of bedsprings
became more violent, and she crammed her fingers into the slippery
moistness of her vagina with a little cry of abandon and in rhythm with
the couple fucking so savagely on her mother's bed.

The picture of their lewdly locked bodies drove the cute young blonde
on, and she rocked back on her knees, screwing her fingers deeper and
deeper into her tightly clasping pussy. She could see the man's huge
thick cock fucking in and out of her mother's ardently clasping cunt,
sinking through the soft pussy hair like a greased telephone pole. The
aroused teenager's fingers became that pole -- and her gasps began to
match theirs. She wanted, absurdly, everything her mother was getting,
as immature as she was. Her body was confessing it, betraying her. She
wanted to be split too, wanted to be fucked, wanted a sperm-bloated
penis pumping into her own hot searing passage. Her fingers were
nothing compared to that enormous thick member that was being rammed in
and out of her mother. She had to have more -- but there was nothing,
nothing but her own fingers.

She reached up over her nakedly thrashing buttocks with her free hand,
searching the tight crevice for she knew-not-what. The fingers on her
ass-cheeks seemed to be magnetized as her mind flashed pictures of how
the man had stuffed his finger into her mother's rectal passage ... and
of how the older woman seemed to be enjoying it immensely.

And then she found her puckered little anal hole. Quickly, the young
blonde girl rammed one finger up into the tiny opening between her
moon-shaped buttocks, gasping as in her haste a fingernail dug into the
soft fleshy walls, sending a sharp jolt of pain through her wantonly
quivering thirteen year old body. She stilled for a moment, then took
up the lewd rhythm of the couple on the bed, her buttocks lifting high
off the floor as her long legs braced themselves, she writhed and
groaned in frustration, and ultimately turned over onto her knees,
trying to find a more comfortable position.

Now her ripe young breasts were scraping against the floor, her nipples
brushing tantalizingly against the cool tile. Her long blonde hair
wafted away on all sides of her voluptuous body, falling eventually in
a golden pile on the bathroom floor. Wildly erotic tingles of lewd
pleasure raced through her passion-inflamed loins as she pictured
herself under the nameless pounding body with the socks. Then her face
colored crimson as she felt her own orgasm coming -- coming with a
great roar.

She hung for an insane, lust-propelled moment teetering on the edge of
the first climax she'd ever experienced, and then her entire sensually
aroused body convulsed as her liquid passion gushed from around her
thrusting fingers, covering her hand and wrist, and dripping down onto
the tiles below. She could feel it running in slick rivulets down the
inside of her quivering thighs to her bended knees. As her teeth
chattered through her shattering climax, she was greeted by a sobbing
shriek and a low male groan from the direction of her mother's bed as
the writhing joined couple answered her orgasm with one of their own.
Then there was complete silence except for the gasping, panting
breathing of the three of them.

Ellen stayed on her hands and knees for awhile, sobbing silently. Her
buttocks still swaying in the musky air. She couldn't bring herself to
take her hand away from her glowing young cunt until the last dying
throbs of climax had been stilled. It seemed eons before her fingers
finally slithered wetly from her satiated vaginal opening, and she
rolled over onto her side, clutching her burning breasts, a terrible
feeling of guilt suffusing her entire trembling being.

She looked up towards her mother's distant bed. It seemed as if the
couple there were now hurtling towards a second orgasm. Ellen could see
the muscles cording up on her mother's inner thighs as she struggled
like a crazed nymphomaniac to get the man deeper inside of her. His
hands cupped her naked white buttocks with savage strength that cut red
lines into the smooth, wildly undulating mounds; he squeezed her
rounded ass-cheeks tightly together, forcing her vagina more snugly
around the thickness of his thrusting male hardness. Ellen could see
the thin, ragged edges of her mother's wet sucking pussy clasping it
tightly like the ovaled mouth of a hungry child around the last banana
in the world as it moved in and out of her belly.

Her mother's buttocks were grinding faster now, and her groans and
mewls of animal pleasure had escalated dramatically as the glazed eyes
of her voluptuous blonde daughter remained glued hypnotically to the
lewd coupling on the bed. Mrs. Winthrop's wild, demonic upward thrusts
were met with equal fury by the stranger's pelvis, which drove her even
more deeply into the mattress with each mighty surge, the loud slaps of
belly against belly resounding like thunder claps

Ellen held her breath as she watched her mother being fucked with
increasing viciousness. And then there was a low, unearthly gurgle from
her mother's throat, and her buttocks began a series of small,
spasmodic jerks up tight against the penis that was sunk so deeply
inside her churning white belly. "Aaaggghhh. Ah ... oh ... awweeee ...
I'm cumming!" Ellen's mother wailed.

At the same time the man groaned again above her, grinding hard into
her wantonly writhing cunt, his thick fleshy rod beginning to spurt
again its white milky sperm deep up inside her belly. The creamy rich
fluid filled her vaginal passage before cascading out around the
stretched pink lips of her cunt. Ellen watched breathlessly as a tiny
white stream of it ran down the wide split crevice of her buttocks to
drop on the mattress below. And then the couple seemed to expire into a
long, drawn-out sigh, lying very still although still joined.

For a long time nothing seemed to happen, and then at last the man
rolled off of the older woman and got up, going over to some clothes
that were slung over a chair.

"I've got to go, Mrs. Winthrop," came the boyish tenor, "or my mother
will give me hell. I'm supposed to be playing basketball at St.
Ignatius."

Ellen started, her eyes wide. Oh no! No! She could swear that the "man"
was Billy Erpsamer, the fourteen year old boy from next door!

But could it be? She watched his huge limp penis dangling as he got
into his clothes. With the two of them on the bed, it was impossible
exactly to tell just what the size of the man was. Billy was certainly
much shorter than her statuesque mother, although he was quite hairy
for his age. But could that be his enormous penis, swinging so evilly
like an Arabian scimitar?

Her mother got up from the bed, wrapping a robe around her lushly
proportioned body, a lazy smile on her lovely face. "And how much do
you want this time, you wonderful brute?" she asked.

Billy Erspamer -- she was certain it was him now -- grinned. "Ten
dollars," he said with a smirk.

Ellen watched unbelievingly as her mother went to her purse on the
vanity, took out a roll of bills and handed it to him. "There's
fifteen," she said, and then she put her arms around the boy and kissed
him, obviously working her tongue around inside his cheeks. When the
kiss broke, she whispered huskily, "You're sure you wouldn't like me to
suck your cock, darling?" and reached down to stroke the thick bulge in
his Levi's.

Billy shook his head. "No thanks, Mrs. Winthrop. I'd like to, but my
mother'll kill me if I'm late. No fooling! Maybe next time." And then
he picked up his jacket and went for the door.

Her mother tailed after him, grabbing him one more time before he could
get away, by the neck this time. "You do respect me, don't you,
darling?" she asked.

"Sure, sure I do, Mrs. Winthrop. You know I do. Now come on, I've
really got to get going. My mother'll kill me."

The older woman shrugged. "All right," she said, letting him out into
the corridor, and then as an afterthought, whispered, "But use the back
stairs. My daughter's asleep. Good night, dear."

Crawling through the darkness on all fours, slinking across the floor
like the snake she felt like, Ellen finally managed to make it back to
her own bedroom. She flopped down into her bed with tears of
uncertainty rolling down her cheeks like beads of glass. The troubled
young girl was almost glad that her father wasn't alive; for she knew
now that her mother had been carrying on like this even before he died.
She could remember how the older woman had often stayed out late in the
evening during his lengthy illness, pleading PTA, or other charitable
work. Well, she certainly seemed to be practicing charity now, thought
Ellen, choking on her futile tears.

How could she ever face her mother again, after what she had witnessed?
And after what she had done with herself while she witnessed it? How
could she look at her mother in the morning over their usual breakfast
together?

But what could she do? Where could she go? She was too young by far to
run away from home.

Maxwell and Dominique Carter were her only real friends. She resolved
to see as much of them as possible from now on. They were
understanding, worldly people, and would make good substitute parents
... she could trust them!



Chapter 3


In the weeks that followed, the Carters were quite pleased to find
Ellen visiting them with increasing frequency. Often she stopped by on
her way home from school, then lingered over a glass of soda pop and
some ice cream for the longest time. In the evenings she would come by
again and they would watch TV, films or play scrabble or go to drive-
ins for milk shakes.

Several times they took her ice skating at the big rink in Northfield,
and despite her voluptuousness Ellen proved to be surprisingly graceful
on the ice. In the short-short skating skirt her gorgeous long,
muscular legs were shown off to exciting advantage, and her long blonde
hair swirled gorgeously on every turn. Maxwell Carter could barely wait
to sink his teeth into her.

His favorite game, however, was taking Ellen downstairs to shoot pool
in their game room. For when she leaned over the billiards table he was
often afforded an intoxicating viewing of her massively swelling young
breasts as they swayed within her clinging tight sweaters. When she was
around, his mouth was continually watering and his nostrils flaring.

Not that he wasn't prepared to let his own sexual interests take a back
seat to the economic concerns of Midwest Films, Inc.

Consequently it was eventually decided between himself and Dominique
that the time had become ripe and that they could afford to wait no
longer. Ellen was frequently affectionate, giving both of them hugs and
kisses on the check before going home, and she had also taken quite a
fancy to Handsome, their powerful German shepherd. All they needed was
to time her initiation properly and they felt sure that there would be
no fuss whatever.

But the timing was, nonetheless, important.

They decided, finally, to pursue her in a manner that had been
successful with numerous other reluctant conquests. A combination of
preying on her immaturity and the natural wish of every over-developed
teenager to appear older than her years, and sophisticated, and the use
of drugs and lewd motion pictures as well. Eventually she would become
so aroused that she would no longer be able to control herself. At
least, that was the plan.

Meanwhile the virginal golden Ellen suspected nothing. She felt
affectionate towards the Carters, and she dearly loved Handsome, but
she hadn't even fingered again since the evil night she had caught her
mother with Billy Erspamer ... not that the thirteen year old hadn't
been tempted! She had resolved that she would struggle to retain her
purity in order to counterbalance her mother's fall from grace. The
Winthrop family of Kenwood Lane would at least have her balancing it in
a world that was too evil to survive much longer.

By visiting the Carters frequently, she seemed to acquire some of their
strength of personality. They were so good -- if worldly -- that she
came to believe that she could rely upon their judgment utterly. Surely
they hadn't become so rich by not having any sense. So she studied
everything Dominique Carter did, and Maxwell Carter, too. She wanted to
be just like them. Her mother she merely tolerated. The chasm between
then widened daily.

It was this innocent trust that prevented Ellen from developing any
inkling or suspicion of what fate the Carters really had in mind for
her. As a result, she accepted with alacrity when they suggested one
evening that she spend the weekend at their house. They had plenty of
room, and they did have such fun together. It would be lovely fun.

Her mother agreed with what Ellen considered to be uncharacteristic
alacrity, and the young girl readied herself. She got a little bag of
her things and toilet articles together, and went over to the Carters
almost immediately after coming home from school on Friday.

The afternoon seemed to go along in a relatively mild, innocuous
fashion. At dinner they explained to her that they were celebrating
Maxwell's birthday with champagne.

Ellen had never drunk champagne before, nor for that matter any
alcoholic beverage, but she didn't want to offend her two good friends,
and in particular she didn't want to seem childish and immature. For if
she refused to drink she knew they would seize upon that to make light
fun of her in a good-natured way, and she didn't want that. She wanted
to live up to their sophisticated company in every way.

So she drank. And the bubbles went right to her head, making her cough
and sputter. What a good laugh they all had over that.

And then Maxwell offered her the cigarette.

It appeared to be no more unusual than any other cigarette, set in
white paper with a gold lipstick end and some sort of filter. "Well, if
you're old enough for champagne now," he laughed, "you're entitled to a
first cigarette as well. Go on, it won't bite you."

"Oh, but I --"

And then Dominique's face turned more stony than Ellen had ever seen it
before. The older woman blew smoke out through her nose and looked at
Ellen frightfully, and the pert teenager realized that the weekend
could become very unpleasant if she was going to hold onto her
childishness much longer. And anyway, who was it who had warned her of
smoking? Her mother, whose opinion could scarcely count for anything
now.

So she allowed Mr. Carter to light up the cigarette and she took a slow
but even puff on it.

To her surprise, she didn't even cough, and in fact the smoke, coming
on the heels of the champagne, seemed to have quite a heady effect on
her. With the second puff she began to feel very lightheaded indeed,
and she was very much ready to retire to the living room when it was
suggested.

Another glass of champagne was put into her hand when she had finished
the first, and although she didn't want to add to her escalating
tipsiness, she couldn't bring herself to refuse. As she drank, she
could hear the servants finishing off in the kitchen and dining room
somewhere, and finally there was silence from that direction with a
series of doors being slammed. The three of them were alone again in
the big house. Handsome nuzzled his furry snout against her party
exposed thigh and her fingers played affectionately around her ears.

Maxwell Carter had started the stereo, and, as they relaxed over their
drinks and cigarettes, the most sensual music seemed to waft through
the air of the living room-cum-library. By now the pungent sweetness of
the smoke seemed to hang very heavy as well. It seemed to Ellen that
the scent of that smoke was exceptionally honeyish, but she was not
experienced enough to know what that meant, or to distinguish it from
ordinary smoke.

"Time for our evening movie," Maxwell whispered, and then he
disappeared behind them and could be heard doing something in the
projection room. In another moment the library's lights had dimmed, the
screen had slid down from the ceiling, and white flashes were
flickering across it as the film began.

The room was perfectly quiet now except for the film running and the
occasional deep inhalation and exhalation. Occasionally one of them
coughed as well. And then there was a picture on the screen.

The film showed a large bed in a bedroom with a small vanity to one
side with a large mirror standing near it. While Ellen puzzled at this,
her empty champagne glass was taken away and a full one substituted.
She had lost all sense of proportion now and wasn't sure if it was
Maxwell or Dominique that had given her the glass. But it didn't
matter! The cigarette made her thirsty and dreamy, and she poured the
cool liquid down her throat greedily.

It was nice to have someone looking after her the way the Carters did;
she loved them as if they were her real parents now. A happy, relaxed
feeling suffused her voluptuous young body and a soft smile of
appreciation flooded her sensual face.

On the screen, an innocent-looking young red-head had appeared by the
bed. She could not have been over sixteen and was the most lovely thing
Ellen had ever seen. She had a look of loneliness on her face that
touched Ellen to the depths because she felt all alone too. She
identified with this beautiful long-haired girl and concentrated on her
completely.

On the screen, the actress picked up a picture from the dressing table,
looked longingly at it for a moment, then pressed it tenderly to the
pear-shaped fullness of her proud young breasts outlined so clearly
beneath the tight black dress she wore. Then she placed the framed
photograph gently on her pillow and began to undress.

In a close-up, Ellen saw that the picture was that of a handsome
looking German shepherd. Her beloved pet, no doubt.

Meanwhile, the girl pulled her dress slowly upwards, exposing her high-
set calves and full, well-rounded thighs. The black of her long silk
stockings, held in place by a dainty lace-trimmed pink garter belt,
contrasted sharply with the creamy alabaster of her nakedly exposed
flesh.

"What is this?" Ellen could hear her own voice saying groggily, but it
sounded too unreal.

Dominique patted her hand gently. "Ssssh, darling. Shhh."

The dress snaked its way over the girl's head and her magnificently-
rounded torso emerged. Then her white brassiere fell to the floor with
a flick of her fingers and the full grandeur and beauty of her firmly
ripe breasts swung into view. They stood high and proud, accentuated by
the lighting in the film. Their turgid little nipples stood out on the
luscious half-spheres, peaking still higher as the girl raised her arms
high up over her head, unpinning her long shining red hair and then
releasing it to cascade softly down over her alluring shoulders.

The girl was almost naked now, in just high unfashionable stiletto
heels, long black hose and the thin wisp of sheer white panties. She
turned and bent over slowly, her back to them; then she drew the silken
panties tantalizingly down over her curved hips and buttocks --
brushing them sensuously along her smooth thighs and calves, and
finally discarding them at her feet by her dress. She stretched
languidly and teasingly as she turned front-ward. All of her delicious
nakedness was exposed now, from her high sumptuously rounded breasts to
the soft chestnut triangle of her vaginal mound.

Ellen shifted nervously as Maxwell sat down next to her with a fresh
drink in his hand. Dominique got up to get something in the darkness,
and Handsome left Ellen's lap and followed slavishly after her.

The thirteen year old blonde had certainly never expected anything like
this, but the champagne and the cigarette had made her head so giddy
that she couldn't think of any appropriate comment. And anyway she was
still conscious of her desire to appear "adult" before the Carters.

The girl in the motion picture lay back on the bed now; she had picked
up the framed photograph of the German shepherd and was looking at it
longingly. Ellen gasped aloud as the actress free hand massaged her
breasts in passionate circles, her fingers tweaking the rubber-eraser
nipples into throbbing hardness. The girl's legs scissored open and
closed slowly, exposing the thin teenage slit of her vagina nestled so
titillatingly inside the curly auburn hair up between her thighs. Her
naked ass-cheeks twisted back against the mattress as though she were
trying to bury herself in it. Sheer wanton desire was reflected in her
hotly glowing eyes.

Ellen squirmed her own buttocks nervously, feeling the cushion of the
sofa brush electrically against the soft swelling of her throbbing
young pussy. Staring at this unexpected shock, her breath quickened and
her nostrils flared wickedly.

As she sipped breathlessly the last of her champagne, Mr. Carter lit
two more thin cigarettes and passed her one. Without thinking, Ellen
inhaled deeply from hers until she began to cough, and then he took it
away from her and passed her another full glass of champagne. She could
feel an unfamiliar tingling in her loins expanding in size as she
drank.

Gradually, however, she could feel herself beginning to unwind and come
free of her inhibitions. The heat and excitement of the motion picture
had begun to stimulate the drugged blonde girl against her will. She
squirmed down against the couch again, feeling the rounded edge of the
cushion shoving her skirt and panties up tighter against her pelvic
area. She rubbed herself gently against it, worming the cushion corner
directly into her moistly pulsating cunt lips. Her aroused young body
rocked on it then with an almost discernible rhythm -- in unison with
the girl in the film. She could feel the wetness spread between her
thighs as she opened them slightly to gain greater contact with the
cushion. The roughness brushed soothingly against her tiny, rising
clitoris through the sheer panties.

She looked guiltily out of the corner of her eye at the Carters to make
sure they hadn't noticed; apparently they hadn't. Mr. Carter appeared
to be dragging heavily on his cigarette, and his eyes seemed rather
glazed. Dominique was lying back on the chaise lounge with Handsome
nuzzling up between her legs as she stroked his furry ears. The older
woman's evening gown had slipped up so that her sleek firm thighs were
visible above the tops of her sheer nylon stockings. Even in this dim
light Ellen could make out the white band of her panties. Dominique
seemed unaware of her almost indecent exposure. Her mouth was open with
intoxicated rapture as Handsome licked along her naked flesh and her