Uncle Gaston And NieceChapter 24 free porn video

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The storm came up in what seemed to be a matter of minutes, the cloud bank of thunderheads looming rapidly out of the southwest to quickly overcast the heavens and burst open at their dull grey bellies, unleashing vicious bolts of chain lightning with great claps of thunder and churning up a wicked sea. Fortunately, Shannon had reached the island and was mooring the boat in the cove when it let loose its wrath. He hauled in his booty and ran to the house where the girls waited tense and weepy with both fear and excited anticipation.

The moment he entered they were all over him, hugging and kissing him, tears streaming down their cheeks in their obvious joys at his safe return. He dropped the bag, taking each in an arm and held them tight while they clung to him, pressing their delightful bodies snugly to his from either side, their hands caressing, their soft lips on his bearded face while he sought their round full buttocks with his big hands to smooth and massage them there. Christ, it was almost too much that one man should have it so good, he beamed happily.

"We worried so, Cheri," Madeleine whimpered.

"Especially when we saw the storm coming up," added Annette. "We were both sorry we'd let you go..."

"What would we ever have done if something had happened to you?" Madeleine sniffled.

"Okay, okay," Shannon chuckled, finally working himself free. He picked up the bag and said: "Nothing did happen... but for awhile there I had my doubts... Anyway, there it is! A half million bucks, dolls... all ours! From here on out the world's our oyster... and man, are we going to enjoy it! Come on, let's start counting."

Greedily and with nervous hands, he removed the waterproof container, opened the valise and gaped at its contents. Slowly, the girls came in close on either side to stare with him. It presented an almost unbelievable, breathtaking sight. It was divided in Canadian and U. S. currency and tiny little gasps of awe escaped each of them as they studied and touched it almost reverently.

"Y--You suppose it's all there?" asked Madeleine, her voice barely audible.

"I'd wager it is, but let's count it and find out," said Shannon, turning the valise over, emptying the packeted money onto the table. "Go ahead, you girls start counting while I watch and catch my breath."

"Oui, Cheri," chirped Annette, setting immediately to the task with enthusiasm.

Sir Launcelot came up to Shannon then, nuzzling close to him affectionately. The movement surprised and pleased him; it seemed that he'd finally been accepted all the way around. He petted the massive head and heard the animal's whining response. Christ, it was a great life he had ahead of him, almost too great to comprehend right at the moment. All the money in the whole godamned world... He crossed the room, his mind reeling with its pleasurable thoughts.

Outside, the rain had increased in its intensity, changing momentarily into hail-stones and causing an immediate dropping of temperature that would produce fog. Shannon looked to the girls who were working feverishly over the money and wondered if they had yet noticed the prompt cooling off of the house. Neither of them were overdressed: Madeleine in a summer mini-thing she'd brought with her, and Annette in the thin sweater-slacks outfit she'd been wearing when he'd brought her there, but they were too busy to pay attention to anything but the stacks of bills before them. He laughed to himself, sensing the odor of musty and overstuffed furniture along with that of partially burned wood from the fireplace the cooling dampness was raising. While they went on counting, he found paper and chips to light a fire, then made coffee, all of the time thinking about the wild little orgy they were going to stage right there before the godamned fireplace in celebration, just as soon as he calmed his nerves and remartialed his wits...

"It's all here, Cheri," informed Annette happily. "Five- hundred-thousand dollars! Mon Dieu! I'll bet mon pere has turned blue with rage." She ran to where he sat and threw herself onto his lap, her arms around his neck, kissing him passionately. "Where are we going from here, lover? A thousand, thousand miles away, I hope."

"That far anyway," Shannon replied with a grin. "But not before I get a bit of loving from you two to show your appreciation."

"Mmmmmmmm," Annette purred, kissing him once more.

Madeleine came and joined them, sitting her lush full buttocks on the arm of the chair and slipping her arm around his neck. She said: "How long do we stay here, Cheri?"

"We'll leave sometime tonight. The storm should be over then," he said.

"But there'll be fog," Annette warned. "There's always fog on the water after a storm like this one."

"Maybe... but I think we can make it all right with the compass..."

A loud throaty bark of warning from Launcelot caused Shannon to jerk erect. At first, he thought the wind had blown open the heavy door, until he saw the two of them burst through the entrance with leveled guns in hand, both of them crouched forward like something left over from a cheap monster movie in their skin- diving outfits. But the expressions on their faces advised differently, and from that point he never had a moment's doubt what was going on.

Both of the girls screamed and Launcelot charged them. There was an explosion and the big animal went down like a bolting rhino, blood pouring from his head. Again, Annette screamed, rushing to the side of the fallen animal while the one with the still smoking revolver said in French: "Don't anyone even breathe, eh? Just stay right where you are or you're dead!"

The big dog whimpered to Annette's touch, tried to move but couldn't. Frantically, she examined the wound to the crown of his massive head and saw that the bullet hadn't penetrated, but had grazed deep and painfully. "My baby... my baby," she sobbed. "Don't try to move... lay still, mon cher... you hear? Lay still..." Then, slowly she raised her eyes to the two weirdly garbed intruders, sensing the contorted expression of hate that twisted her own slender face. "You bastards!" she spat. "You filthy bastards... !"

"Sorry, Ma'm'selle," the taller one said emptily. "He came at me... nothing else I could do."

Annette fought to control herself, her brain racing wildly. She'd recognized them; they were her father's enforcers, two of the three men, she was certain, who had murdered Ginny Novak... Axel and McShea, by names, both ugly and brutal men. In her peripheral vision she saw Madeleine backed across the room near the table where the money lay in neat piles, and Shannon standing beside the chair with his hands raised high. My God, was this how it was all going to end? Launcelot was dying... and that was the fate both Shannon and Madeleine could look forward to now... and she could do nothing to help them.

She said: "I--It's about time you got here. What in hell took you so long? Was pere too busy to spare me the time?"

The tall one called Axel pulled off his skintight head covering, then grinned hollow-faced. "It took time, Ma'm'selle. Your father had to figure out a plan. Not a bad one, eh? We waited with aqua lungs below the surface of the water. When this punk took the bag we hooked onto his boat and let him pull us along behind..."

Shannon felt the void in his belly growing. The one godamned thing that had never crossed his mind... someone below the surface. He'd been too occupied with what was happening on top of the water. Beautiful... and that's what made a crumb like Larreau the biggest crumb in the cake... Christ!

"This is all of them... just these two?" McShea, a broad, heavy man with powerful shoulders, ruddy face, thick lips and a bulbous nose questioned.

Annette nodded, her brain continuing to whirl. Dear God, her beautiful Launcelot was dying... dying! Well... she wouldn't have to worry about leaving him behind any longer, would she?

"Did they harm you?" asked McShea.

"No. They treated me well," she managed as she continued to soothe Launcelot with stroking hand.

Axel said: "See if he's got a gun, McShea."

McShea moved in on Shannon. "Turn around, punk," he ordered, to which, Shannon responded and he found the gun. Then, he walked to Madeleine's cowering form and ordered her to do the same. Twice, he ran his hands over her voluptuous, if, cringing body, lewdly squeezing and patting her soft full curves as he laughed salaciously. "The cunt's okay," he said, taking a long, greedy look at the piled currency on the table.

"Tie him," ordered Axel. "Tie the punk into the chair until I decide how we're going to handle this. This storm's going to be with us for awhile... might just as well enjoy it, eh?"

McShea grinned his agreement. He'd brought a length of rope with him, evidently anticipating their every move, Annette decided. They'd planned it well... and she was beginning to get the feeling that her father wasn't aware of all their intentions. She said: "Does pere know I'm here... on this island, I mean?"

Axel eyed her levelly through evil, lead-hued orbs. "He hasn't the faintest, Ma'm'selle... and this is a hell of a big lake, eh? The best he can do is sit and wait for us to contact him... which we have no intentions of doing." He grinned humorlessly. "As a matter of fact, we've got other plans, sweetheart... other plans entirely..."

"I smell a doublecross," grunted Shannon who was already bound painfully into the chair, the circulation in his arms and legs almost completely cut off. "So... now you're going to grab the loot and run, is that it?"

McShea straightened from his task, stepped back and lashed Shannon brutally across the face, splitting his lip and causing the blood to spurt. Annette winced, but held herself, while Madeleine rushed to his side.

"Damn you!" Madeleine screamed, clawing at McShea's ugly face, but it was a futile gesture. Grinning, the powerful man twisted her about, clamping one arm around her waist and clutching one full soft breast brutally with the other, raising a cry of pain from her throat.

"You know what, cunt?" he hissed vilely into her ear. "I'm going to fuck you... along with a few other things, and right here in front of your boyfriend. Now, what do you think of that?"

Madeleine stopped fighting, her eyes fixed on her Shannon's bleeding and swollen mouth, even as the horrible meaning of her tormentors filthy words registered. God, she didn't care about herself, but Shannon...

Annette bit her lower-lip, forced a smile and slowly got to her feet. She said: "Go ahead, McShea... I'd like to watch that myself."

Abruptly, Madeleine turned her head to stare with disbelief at the unusual twisted smile contorting Annette's slender, attractive face. Mother of God! Was she losing her wits? It couldn't be true... Annette was actually prodding this foul brute into raping her... and right there before Shannon's helpless eyes... !

"Hey, baby... maybe you're all right after all," Axel said, a lecherous, hollow-cheeked grin coming into evidence. "Well, you heard her, McShea... skin off that rubber suit and give us a show, eh? Meantime, sweetheart here can mix us a couple of drinks," he added, reaching out and drawing Annette willingly in close to him.

She looked up into his skull-shaped face and smiled sensuously. "What about us?" she teased. "You and me, Axel... ? You know, I think we could make it just fine together... especially with all that money, cheri... eh?"

Shannon watched the licentious expression of lust leap into the gaunt, ugly one's eyes and the way he licked at his dry, knife-like lips. His own brain was churning hazily from McShea's stunning blow. Christ! Was she acting... or serious... ready to throw in with the winning side regardless of who it was? Godamn... hadn't he wondered that all along? She was a shrewd one... with a brain like a computer and the morals of an alley- cat... She was selling them out! He watched in semi-shock as Axel placed both hands onto the cheeks of her round little ass and hauled her to him, kissing her hungrily. Her arms went up around his neck and she ground her pelvis against him. The little bitch!

Madeleine continued to stare in disbelief, but tore her attention from the entwined couple as McShea let loose of her and began to peel the rubber suit from himself. She stood as if petrified, then, backed against the table while he shed everything but a pair of tight-fitting swimming trunks that showed the massive bulge at his crotch, and then she gaped in despair at Shannon who was watching helplessly.

"All right, cunt... hike up your dress and show me your pretty legs," McShea ordered, standing back with hands on hips and grinning lasciviously at her.

Madeleine felt a wave of revulsion course through her. She pressed her buttocks against the table rim and shook her head slowly. "N-- Never... never," she hissed. "You'll have to rape me, damn you!"

McShea's grin broadened. He said: "I don't think so, cunt. I think you'll be glad to do anything I ask..." He paused, then approached Shannon's helpless form secured in the chair. Twice, he struck the bound man across the face, Shannon's head rocking viciously from the force of the blows. Again, he raised his hand and Madeleine screamed.

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Hum dono abhi bhi nange hi thay. Chalte chalte usne paad maari. Uski gaand mein abhi bhi haddi akti hui thi. Nadi kinare, jhadiyon ke bich usko bithaya. “Hug le saali madarchod. Kab se paad rahi jai bhosdiki.” Woh hugne lagi. Uski gaand se haddi nikal gayi. Uski garam moot ki dhaar mere pairo pe giri. “Saali maderjaat! Mere pairon pe mootegi. Saali raand muh khol,” main uske muh mein mootne laga. Lavda uske gale mein ghus kar mootne laga. Maine apni tange faila di aur wahi khade khade hugne...

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Cheryl lifted her glass. "To the best Sunday I've ever had. And to the uncle who made it happen." "To the best Sunday you've ever had." I pinged her glass with mine and we sipped. She gave her glass a skeptical look and then focused on me. "I guess it would have been better with wine, huh?" I motioned for her to sit and then took my own chair at the patio table. "Of course not. After all, you are much more like hand-squeezed lemonade than Beaujolais." "I am?" she asked with a...

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Summers' fascination with Cheryl became more understandable when I met his wife, Joyce. She said they had lost a daughter at age ten, and Cheryl was practically a reincarnation of their girl, though Cheryl's face was proportionately wider and her cheeks a little fuller. Still, they could have been sisters. "He's never really accepted her death," Joyce said in a quiet conversation at the opposite end of their large living room where the mantel was covered with pictures of Kimberley...

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Can't breathe! I woke up enough to realize it was because of a weight pressing down on my chest. I opened my eyes. Cheryl was lying on top of me. I knew it was Cheryl because my tongue remembered that she needed to shave again, and I could see stubble in the glow from the campground's light poles creeping in around and through the curtains. I lifted my head slightly and kissed the stubble, then kissed the opening in the middle. Thanks to the exposure to the air, she was dry now. She...

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Did you ever notice how life never gives you straightforward, black-and-white situations? Everything is always shades of gray. Or worse, plaid. Take waking up, for instance. When it comes to waking up the bad way, it's hard to beat being jolted awake by a nightmare so horrible that you're glad you can't remember the details and wish you also couldn't remember that it had been a nightmare that horrible. When it comes to waking up the good way, it's hard to beat opening your eyes and...

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The next week was relatively uneventful. Monday we painted Cheryl's room. "It stinks," she said as she climbed in bed, her pert nose wrinkled in disgust. "Maybe I should have gotten the bright orange after all." "That was oil based enamel, not latex. It would have smelled worse." "Worse than this?" "Yes. Do you want to sleep in one of the other rooms for a couple of nights?" "No. I just want this one to smell better." "It will in a couple of days." "What if the stink...

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"SHIT!" Despite the amused smile that suddenly jumped across his face, Maynard's face managed to remain sympathetic as he looked down at Cheryl, who'd collapsed to sit on the grass and mope. "I'd have told you, honey, but I didn't know." Cheryl put her elbows on her knees and rested her chin atop her fists. "Pardon my French. I can't believe I missed Tyrone Hayes! Of all the times for me to get sick! That makes this my worst Fourth of July ever." "I forgot he was from here," I...

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I was wrong. She did not emerged until time for the final check She wore long jeans, a fully-buttoned blouse, and as angry a look as I'd ever seen. Her red eyes avoided me as she stormed into the kitchen for an apple, quartered it, and took it to the front door without a word. I listened to the door open, then close. I returned to the novel I was reading. Eventually I heard the door again. She started up the stairs without a word. "Good night," I said. She slowed long enough to say,...

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Uncle Randy and the Angry NieceChapter 19

"Bitch." Cheryl didn't move except to speak. She stared at the cordless phone extension in her hand, now switched off. "Noun or verb?" I asked, gripping her shoulders and massaging her spine with my thumbs. She looked over her shoulder at me. "Huh?" "Was that a descriptive noun, or was it a verb complaining about what she did?" I took the offered phone and shoved it into the charging base on the end table, then resumed working out the muscle kinks she developed while talking to...

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As I had anticipated, she had plugged in the oil warmer before climbing into her tub. She'd also left the bathroom door open. She raised one hand and flapped her joined fingers at me in a wave. "Five more minutes," I said and began spreading the towels on the bed. She seemed disappointed. Maybe she'd expected me to run to the tub and jump in. I checked the temperature of the oil and noticed the hair bleach sitting once again on the night stand. I chuckled to myself, then groaned as the...

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