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Held Captive

Chapter 1


The Spender house was spacious, painted white with colored awnings over
the windows, the long marble-flagged terrace led down to a swimming
pool, the neighbors were hidden by rows of flowering eucalyptus and the
wide garage held three cars. Arnold Spender was rich had always been
rich as his father before him and his father before him. Beyond that
generation the tracing was lost, as his wife Susannah too often
mentioned during rounds of family-tree accounting. Nevertheless he
belonged-she always conceded-since his ancestors on his mother's side
were pioneers like her own, one of whom crossed the Delaware with
George Washington and another died as a young lieutenant at Valley
Forge. They should be living in Boston or New York, Susannah constantly
complained, instead of being surrounded by the nouveaux rich of Long
Beach. She was all snob whereas Arnold was only part snob, a bright and
successful petroleum engineer who still retained the flavor of his Ivy
League days at Harvard.

Who they were and what they were, these were the ever repeated legends
of themselves instilled in their daughter, their own little Princess as
they called her. They scoffed at the idea of a generation gap in their
closely united family, forgetting that the younger generation that
lived at Long Beach was beyond their comprehension. Their friends were
older or seemed older than themselves, but were usually as rich,
belonging to the same clubs and having much the same interests. In this
circle the young Linda was nurtured and brought up in the belief that
she had inherited the earth.

The Spenders had good cause to be proud of Linda. Bright at school,
popular with all their friends and their children, never complaining
about going to church, she never gave her parents any anxious moments-
except for her daring in the surf. The California beaches and the
beaches on Hawaii where they often vacationed were an irresistible
magnet to their beautiful, sun-blonde daughter. Her mother claimed to
have passed on to Linda a perfect figure, an open, nicely rounded face
with a slightly pointed chin, big hazel eyes and a soft, velvety skin
that never tanned deeply, retaining under the hottest sun a honey brown
that sometimes disturbed her father with its sheen of sensuality,
giving him feelings to which he would never admit, even to himself.

Linda was not yet fully developed. She would grow taller and the small
excess of baby fat around her high, perfectly rounded bottom would go.
Once in a party frock the bodice pushed up her breasts so that they
formed two little mounds above it, causing Arnold to remark that their
little girl was a big girl now. Naked, as her parents sometimes saw her
running from a shower, her breasts showed like two firm oranges, her
thighs and calves like a graceful athlete in a Cretan painting. Linda
was their proudest possession; she was a precious jewel. Yet they
realized that she would one day live her own life and must prepare for
it, therefore she was allowed complete freedom to stay out alone with a
boy, as long as he was as well bred as Tom Blackwell-and as long as she
was home before midnight. The Spenders enjoyed a lot of night life
themselves, always feeling secure in their belief that their Princess
would never stray from the straight and narrow path laid out for her.

Arnold's professional and investment interests in oil extended to
Australia where new oil field discoveries were extending his own little
empire. As vice-president of a California company he was invited to sit
as a director on the board of its Australian associate company, a
position which would mean occasional journeys out to Sydney. He and
Susannah were both looking forward to a holiday in the antipodean
sunshine in the near future, where the summer was at its highest and
where Linda could enjoy a surfing break from her high school studies.

Earlier that evening when Linda had gone to a drive-in with Tom, Arnold
and Susannah had visited a friend's house for a champagne supper. As
usual, they left early, intending to be home long before Linda arrived
back. They had celebrated somewhat more alcoholically than usual,
mixing too many cocktails with too much champagne, but nevertheless
they were home and undressed before eleven. Susannah, an older, taller
and well preserved replica of her daughter, wanted to dance so Arnold
turned out the lights, put on a record and, blithely naked, they danced
slowly across the living room floor toward the long settee. Warmed by
the drinks and the central heating, their bodies slightly perspiring,
they began to feel one another, Susannah squeezing his slowly hardening
cock while Arnold slid his hand down the cleft of her ass-cheeks, down
until he could stretch a finger to the back of her slippery cunt.
Susannah suddenly broke away from him. Surprised, he asked her what was
wrong.

"I don't suppose it's anything," she replied "Perhaps it's just that
I've had too much to drink. I had a sudden thought that something might
happen to Linda in Australia. You know, something with men. Some people
say the Australians are uncouth."

"At least, honey, they don't go around shooting each other as often as
Americans do. All the ones I've met were nice. They drink a lot and
play a lot but they are very respectful towards women. As a matter of
fact I've heard it said that they would rather soak than poke."

Susannah gave him a sour look. Vulgarities were rarely well received by
Susannah, except when they were making love. Tonight he was sure not in
a mood for soaking up booze, he was all for a good long fuck. He pulled
his wife down on the settee, his cock still erected to half-ready
hardness. Her mood was inhibiting him.

"Look, baby, we'll be there to look after her," he cajoled.

"Yes, of course, sweetheart. It's just that I have a kind of
premonition. Perhaps we shouldn't go. It may be something to do with
the jet. It's a long flight out to Sydney." The more she talked the
softer grew his prick. There was only one sure way of getting her to
shut up, and he pushed her back against the cushions and opened her
legs.

In the dim light, Arnold could make out the pale sheen of her soft
skin, and his eyes traveled greedily over her still firm breasts with
their dark, mouth-watering nipples. From there, he glanced down to her
trim waist with its softly rounded stomach, and his breath quickened as
his eyes came to the dark patch of curling hair which drifted down and
around the rosy lips of her cunt. Arnold held her legs apart for
several minutes, staring hungrily at the exposed area. Then, unable to
restrain himself any longer, he plunged his head down between her
widespread legs and buried his face in her hotly pulsating pubic area.

Susannah's little clitoris was already erect when his darting tongue
found it and frantically began to lick at it, his lips closed around
the tip of it lovingly as he tried to suck it into his mouth. Then he
licked sloppily down to her hotly pulsating cunt, and he jabbed in and
out as if he were fucking her with his tongue, running it hungrily
around her wetly steaming cunt and sucking the oozing juices into his
mouth.

Already, he could feel her cunt throbbing madly toward her climax. This
was always the best way ... when he could bring her to a quick orgasm
with his mouth. But that was only the beginning; that first climax got
them both so hot that whatever they did after that was always far more
exciting to both of them. Arnold extended his tongue to its fullest
length and rammed it as far as it would go into the hot tunnel of her
vibrating cunt, and she began to moan as he licked and prodded at the
soft tender flesh of her dripping pussy.

His tongue flicked in and out in a furious staccato rhythm as her
juices flowed in a hotly excited stream, and he sucked them into his
open mouth. Now her thighs were starting to twist and jerk, and she
clamped her hands down on his head, crushing his lips into her steaming
cuntal area, and she opened her mouth in a long agonizing wail as her
orgasm exploded. They were both so intensely involved in their love-
making that they were totally unaware that they were not alone.


Chapter 2


The moonlight shimmered on the dark Pacific, and the wind sighed in the
pines but Linda cared nothing for the beauty of the surroundings or the
pungent aroma of the pines as her swirling emotions churned inside her.
The tortured girl leaned her blonde head forward on the dashboard of
the convertible, her lithesome young body shaking with sobs, her
stomach muscles contracted in spasms of hurt and humiliation. Slowly
she wiped the sticky fluid from her cheek and neck as Tom lay back in
the seat, pale and aghast. Oh God, what have I done, he said to
himself, closing his eyes and wishing himself a thousand miles away.

It was their last night together before Linda and her family were to
leave for Australia-a night that the blonde teenager had hoped would
become a beautiful, romantic memory during the two weeks she would be
away from her young boyfriend. And now this had happened to ruin
everything! She knew about the human body from her biology classes and
sex instruction, but to experience what she had just gone through was
shattering. It had begun as their petting so often did, with kissing
and fondling, with Tom's hand sometimes feeling up between her thighs,
sending thrilling tremors through her ripe body as it slowly passed
over the panty-covered mound of her sensitive triangle. This time she
had let him tenderly kiss one of her small pink nipples, although she
pushed him away when he began to suck and nibble in eagerly abandoned
passion.

"Please Linda, let's do it right," he had begged, breathing hotly
against her ear while he began to feel his way surreptitiously along
the inside of her thigh. He had almost reached the warmth of her pussy,
had almost touched the sparse tangle of pubic curls through her flimsy
panties when she roughly pushed his hand away.

"Tom Blackwell the Third, don't you know how much I want to?" she
asked. "I wish we were naked together, and some day we will be, but I
intend to remain a virgin until we are properly married. Supposing we
never married ... supposing you were to fall in love with someone else
... wouldn't I be ruined for some other man who might want to marry me?
Besides, I'm much too young to marry, and we'll just have to wait. My
parents didn't bring me up to become a loose woman."

Tom was forced to think rationally. Linda was only fifteen, and at
seventeen he himself was too young to marry. He felt depressed at the
prospect of having to wait two, three, maybe more years before he could
take that delicious young body naked into his arms. He had known Linda
since they were both small children. They were together every summer,
usually spent on the beach where he had observed her lithe sun-browned
body begin to fill out into adolescent womanhood, to change from a wild
tomboy who surfed and rode a board as well as any of them, into a
lovely golden creature who verged on being a goddess.

Now, on this important night, the girl he adored was weeping and
showing every indication of being revolted by him. It had been an
ungovernable urge that had apparently wrecked their friendship, and
there was no doubt that Linda would share the blame. When their petting
had reached a stage where it seemed that both of them would lose all
restraint, he had unzipped his fly to expose his rock-hard cock, and
Linda had gazed at it as though entranced, slowly moving her hand to
stroke it when Tom had impulsively implored her, "Oh please kiss it.
Please kiss it!" She had leaned down, gently drawing back the foreskin
and had kissed the blood-filled head with a long, wantonly sensual
kiss, her mouth half-open so that her teeth pressed into the rigid
flesh. And no sooner had she lifted her mouth from the throbbing member
than she felt Tom begin to quiver violently.

Suddenly, he cried out.

"Aaaaggghh, Linda, Linda, Linda! Jeez Linda. I'm cummmiinngg!" With
that he'd exploded into orgasm, his hot white sperm flying onto Linda's
shocked face, to dribble wetly down her neck and chin onto her firm
young breasts.

Linda's first reaction was blind shock-then something her mother had
told her flashed unbidden into her mind. Men are filthy beasts at
times, her mother had said, adding that her lovely little Princess
would find out all about them when she married. The older woman had
always warned her about men wanting to rape every young girl they could
lay their grasping hands on, although she'd encouraged Linda's
association with Tom, for-after all-Tom had gone to the right school,
and he could trace his family back as far as their own. He was well-
mannered, a cut above the rest of his friends at Long Beach High. Now,
as tears flooded her eyes and shame colored her lewdly defiled cheeks,
she realized that Tom was as evil, as crude and horrible as the creeps
who took those cheap working girls down to the beach at night for
depraved orgies.

It was partly her own fault, the sobbing young blonde told herself. She
should never have allowed their petting to go so far. He had become so
passionate, and because of her love for him, the poignancy of their
last night together and the sensual intimacy of the convertible, she
had lost all control when she sympathetically kissed his thick
pulsating penis. She had only intended giving it a quick kiss,
something they would both remember as being part of their own private
love, a little secret between them while she was away in Australia.
Sometimes she had wondered if her mother's talks had warped her natural
tendencies away from sex, if perhaps she might never be capable of
wanting a man inside her, and she'd wanted to prove her fears wrong.
Would she grow up to become a sexless "female eunuch" incapable of
allowing a male organ to pierce her virginal vagina? She had wondered
about that until now, this night that had brought a torment of desire
followed by shame and loathing.

She hated him; she despised him as she felt him beside her, doing up
his fly while she wiped away her tears and stray flecks of his sticky
cum. What a vulgar word! How dare he use such foul language in front of
her! How frightening and awful men were.

"Drive me home," she ordered, unable or not wanting to pronounce his
name, "Immediately!"

At home she would find a sane refuge from the turmoil that raged inside
her, from the fear and a sickening kind of loneliness building up
insidiously in her being. Silently, Tom drove out of the dark lane
which led to the beach where they had parked, back to the large house
where Linda's parents had left the terrace lights on to welcome their
daughter home. Usually Tom would be invited in for a late supper before
he left, but tonight his world was shattered as Linda hurried out of
the car, not even turning her head when he called out his farewell.

"Good night, Linda-I'm sorry."

* * *

When Linda got out of Tom's car, she slowly mounted the steps to the
terrace. The night air felt chilly, and she pulled her sweater tighter
around her shoulders. Tears swelled unrestrained in her eyes, her
tormented body felt empty and numb, her legs slightly trembling. As she
heard Tom's car drive away, she almost turned to call after him. She
had lost him, her first true love, the boy to whom she had always felt
as close as a sister to a brother with that something extra that
belonged to future lovers. She had admired others, especially some of
the handsome young men she saw on the beaches, sometimes almost wanting
them with a physical ache, a feeling she always quickly dispelled. She
did not want to become like the common "whores," as her mother called
them, who slept around. She knew Tom and his friends despised girls
like that. But isn't that what he must think of her now? Oh God! Why
did her animal want dissolve all the caution that had been instilled in
her? She could never face Tom again. Never, never, never. When she
returned from Australia, she would try to persuade her parents to move
to Boston, where they belonged. She knew they stayed in California so
that she could enjoy the best climate in the world, to have the sea to
swim in and the surf to ride. None of that mattered now.

Mortified, filled with the shame of having committed a sexually obscene
act, she wished she were dead. Perhaps she would never be able to face
any boy again, let alone sit with one in a car or on the beach.

She stopped crying and was calmer, trying to rationalize from her small
experience of life how, in a few minutes, her happiness had been
completely destroyed. It could not have been all Tom's fault, she
supposed, remembering how she had occasionally stared furtively at the
swellings in the front of the boys' pants. Had she always wanted to
place her lips against a boy's cock? Penis, she corrected herself. Oh
heavens, the thought of it was bringing to life a strange feeling
inside her. Did she want to kiss, to open her mouth and wetly kiss the
pulsating flesh of an erected penis-did she really want to do that? She
brushed the thought aside. I'm just being adolescent, she told herself,
and thought of going inside to greet her parents. Should she tell her
mother of her humiliating experience? Gosh! What would she say? How
could she explain it anyway-that she had voluntarily leaned down and
given Tom a passionate kiss on his cock? Penis. Linda Spender! You're
becoming as vulgar as the beach girls! she remonstrated with herself.
They used the most awful words. Like "fuck." And Tom had called out
that he was cumming. She began to cry again, the shame of it all
causing her to feel faint. She buried her head in her arms, sobbing
until the tears could flow no longer.

The house was strangely silent; it was usual for her parents to leave
the lights on in the living room and to be there when she returned. The
curtains hadn't been drawn across the glass doors leading out onto the
terrace, and now she became aware of music playing-a record, one of
their favorites. She supposed they were sitting quietly in the dark,
listening to it. The thought of being with them cheered her. She would
open the terrace door quietly and surprise them. She had made up her
mind not to mention the incident in Tom's convertible, putting aside
the inevitable explanation why she didn't ever want to see him again.

She turned the door handle gently so there was no hinge squeak as she
pushed the door open a few inches. She looked about the large, semi-
darkened room, her gaze riveting on the two entwined figures on the
settee. She was transfixed, unable to move or turn her eyes from the
scene of utter debauchery. Her father and mother! Naked! Her father's
head was buried down between her mother's widespread legs- she couldn't
quite see what he was doing but a shaft of light from outside
illuminated her mother's head to reveal the older woman's face
contorted into a terrifying grimace. Obviously they must be drunk, or
even drugged with pot! she thought crazily. At first the horrified
teenager didn't believe that the couple on the settee were her parents,
hoping against hope that they might be some outrageous overnight
guests, but she was soon disillusioned.

She saw her mother pull the head up from between her legs, and she
caught a glimpse of her father's face. His chin and cheeks were
glistening from her mother's secretions.

"Let me ..." her mother murmured, then broke off, not completing her
request. But long association made words unnecessary; her father
understood what she wanted. He got up from his position and climbed on
top of her ... but not the way he should, Linda realized with horror.
He was backwards, his knees on either side of her mother's head, and
his cock-Linda couldn't stop the word from jumping into her mind-his
cock was long and hard looking, and it was poised directly above the
older woman's face.

Instead of trying to avoid it, Linda's mother opened her mouth and
moved it directly below the jutting member, and the girl watched in
shock as her father slowly lowered his hips, pushing his pulsating cock
between her waiting lips. At the same time, the young blonde's father
buried his face once more between her mother's legs.

Linda stayed at her position by the door, unable to move, terrified her
parents would see her but unable to tear herself away from the lewdly
hypnotic spectacle. They are out of their minds, completely insane, she
almost screamed aloud as she watched her wantonly sucking mother now
caressing her father's balls. Testicles, the young girl's mind
automatically corrected itself. The older woman was moving her
husband's cock around in her mouth, the changing bulges in her
obscenely working cheeks quite visible to her daughter watching from
the door.

Soon her father began to moan quietly, his head still buried down
between her mother's legs, his buttocks quickening in their rise and
tall as he thrust his swollen member wildly in and out of her
contorting mouth. He was beginning to gasp for air, and he was forced
to raise his head, crying out as he did so.

"I'm cumming, Susannah! Oh you wonderful girl; I'm cumming! I'm
cccuummmmiiiinnnggg ..."

Linda expected her mother-drunk as she must surely be-to actually choke
in her desperate fight for air, or certainly to tear herself away from
that thickly jerking penis, but incredibly, she stayed there with the
impaling hardness in her mouth and swallowing, actually swallowing the
surging load of semen. Linda continued to stare as though hypnotized by
the debauched sight of her own mother behaving like a degraded whore.
And her father! His cock was still hard and seemed frighteningly long
as he drew it from her mother's mouth.

With the feeling that her parents had deserted her, that her world had
finally crumbled to ashes, Linda managed to shake herself from her
state of numbed shock and leave the depraved spectacle behind her.
Silently, she closed the door and went to the main entrance of the
house where she carefully let herself in, turning off the terrace
lights before creeping softly up the stairs to her room. The desolate
blonde teenager removed her clothes in the dark and sank back onto the
bed to stare blankly up at the shadowed ceiling in a state of shock and
incomprehension, until at last blessed sleep came to carry her off into
forgetfulness.


Chapter 3


The early morning rush to complete packing, take showers, eat breakfast
and get to the airport precluded any discussion about the previous
night. Linda's mother did manage to ask after Tom, and her father
wondered how Linda had got into the house and into bed without anyone
hearing. Linda was trying to avoid her parents, an intention that went
unnoticed in the scramble to catch the Queensland and Northern
Territory Aerial Service-Qantas-airliner. Linda made a half-hearted
attempt to scribble a note to Tom before she left, but it was no use.
She was weighed down with an overwhelming sense of guilt, at the same
time feeling shocked and disappointed with him. Each time the incident
came into her mind she pushed it away, only to be haunted again and
again by the scene in the convertible as well as the low depths to
which her parents had sunk.

She didn't ask them about their farewell parties, the only thing said
being her mother's comment.

"I swear I'll never mix cocktails and champagne again as long as I
live. I don't even remember going to bed last night."

Neither the mother nor daughter noticed the smile on Arnold Spender's
face. He was quite used to her pretense that she didn't remember a
thing ... especially after they had enjoyed a particularly wanton
session of lovemaking ... and the more uninhibited she had been the
night before, the less she pretended to remember.

Linda, however, wondered if her father had also suffered a blackout, if
what she had witnessed had been performed while they were both
semiconscious under the influence of alcohol. She felt a little
relieved at this thought then paled at the remembrance that she,
herself, when she kissed Tom's penis, was perfectly sober. She could
not lay the blame on drink or drugs, and she was beginning to realize
that she couldn't really blame Tom.

They arrived at Honolulu in the early afternoon, allowing time for the
three of them to go to the beach before dinner. Linda's parents were
pleased to see that she was getting over her dark mood. The poor girl
was missing Tom quite badly, they both thought, and went out of their
way to indulge her with little gifts, including a color Polaroid land
camera. They dined late, taking a long while over the meal, since they
were to change to a different flight after midnight. There was plenty
of time, explained Arnold Spender, as he didn't have to be in Sydney
until Sunday.

"Well, this is only Friday," said Linda. "Why don't we stay in Honolulu
another day?"

"Because, Princess, we lose a day when we cross the International Date
Line. We leave here early on Saturday morning, and a few hours later we
land at Sydney on Sunday morning. Then, on Sunday afternoon we're
invited to tea with the Dowlings. He's chairman of the Australian
company."

"I don't think I'd want to go visiting, Daddy. Couldn't I just go
surfing ... we're staying at Bondi Beach, aren't we?"

"Sure you can," her mother said. "Do whatever you please. This is a
vacation for you, and we want you to make the most of it. You're only
young once, Princess."

Her father called for the check and they left the restaurant to catch a
taxi out to the airport. "I think you'll be surprised when we get to
Bondi Beach, Linda. The apartment looks right over the beach, and on
Sunday they've got a spectacular surf carnival that will be more fun
for you than having tea with these dull old business associates of
mine."

The plane took off on schedule and landed, after a little over six
hours, at Sydney's Kingsford Smith airport. An hour later, the Spenders
entered their luxurious apartment overlooking Bondi Beach with the blue
Pacific stretching out to the horizon.

Early as it was, the morning sun was already hot, its rays burning down
on a crowd of people already swimming in the surf or lying on the
beach. It was all so inviting, so temptingly cool, and the surf was
just right for shooting; Linda could hardly wait to slip into a bikini.
During the long flight she had made up her mind to forgive Tom, a
decision that eased some of the shameful guilt nagging her for so long
that she'd felt she was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Having made
that decision and having slept soundly on the plane, she now felt
exhilarated, as though she were about to enter a wonderful adventure.

"When do we go to church, Daddy?" she called out.

"Guess we'll skip it this Sunday, Princess. Perhaps we'll go twice next
Sunday, to make up," he said teasingly.

Hundreds of cars were moving in to park along the beach front as Linda
walked across the broad boulevard to the beach. She copied the local
girls who wore nothing except bikini and sandals, noting that there
didn't seem to be any obvious difference between Americans and
Australians, as far as looks were concerned. Suntanned youths earned
boards across clean golden sand down to the surf where the breakers
were rolling in. The sights and smell of the sand and sea reminded her
more of Hawaii's Waikiki than of Long Beach. At this hour of the
morning there were long patches of empty spaces. She dropped her towel
and ran into the sea, diving under a breaker then swimming out against
the rollers to wait for a big one that would bring her back to shore.
The cool salt water washing over her body brought on the animal
sensations that always flooded tingling through her body when she lay
flat on a board, her pelvis pushing hard down to hold her balance.

If only she had a surfboard to ride these superb waves! After shooting
several breakers, she was about to leave the water when an empty board
came tumbling towards her and she automatically grabbed it, knowing
that its owner would be saved an extra swim from the beach to retrieve
it. She was looking around for someone to claim it when suddenly a head
popped up beside her, a slightly freckled face under a strange looking
red and green cap. A lean and bronzed arm reached over the board and
the young man's pleasant voice said, "Thanks, Miss, that's very kind of
you to catch it for me."

Linda stared at this handsome apparition, this smiling young man with
twinkling blue eyes and the funny cap.

"Hi. Do all Australians wear bathing caps?" she asked laughingly. "Or
have you got your curlers in?"

The young man threw back his head and laughed. "Hell no! You must be a
stranger not to recognize a Life Saver's cap. Where do you come from?"

"Actually, I only arrived a couple of hours ago," Linda explained. "I'm
from California. You know where that is, don't you?"

"Sure thing. It's where they grow oranges and beautiful girls. I bet
they don't have beaches like Bondi over there."

"Of course we do. Maybe better than this, though it's hard to imagine a
more perfect day than this. Anyway. I do like your cap. It's kinda
cute."

Linda was attracted to him despite the fact that he obviously worked as
some sort of lifeguard. She was in a mood to flirt, at least to meet
some young people, to get away from the presence of her parents for
awhile. These was still that disturbing image of them lingering in the
back of her mind.

"Is that all you do, save lives?" she asked.

"Hell no! It's only a voluntary job. By the way," he said, lifting his
body onto the board, "My name's Hugh. Hugh Watson."

"Hello Hugh. I'm Linda."

"Can you ride a board, Linda?"

"Certainly. Are you offering me yours?"

Hugh smiled. He was offering her his all right. He'd give it to her
right up the ass! he chuckled to himself. So far, he'd only been able
to see the long blonde hair falling down into the blue-green water and
two nice little rounded breasts cupped in a narrow black bikini top.

"Climb aboard and take it away, Linda. It's all yours. I'll wait for
you on the beach."

He slid off the board, treading water while she pulled herself up to
lie flat and paddle out into the oncoming breakers. Phew! He said to
himself, what a luscious piece of ass. Hope she's sixteen or it could
mean jail for me. Floating on his back, he watched Linda's ass-cheeks
tightening and relaxing as she pushed the board out, noticing that,
when she knelt up on it, her golden tan went all the way down to the
small cleft between her well-rounded buttocks showing temptingly above
the brief bikini pants. He smiled luxuriously to himself, closed his
eyes and let the waves float him back towards the beach. He was going
to get inside those pants if it was the last thing he did.

Hugh was captain of a Life Saving team from Brisbane competing in the
national championships being held at the carnival that Sunday. He was,
in fact, a professional, working as an inspector on the beach at
Surfer's Paradise in Queensland. It was the only life he knew, having
left school early, and now, at the age of twenty-one, he wasn't
interested in doing anything else. He'd tried various jobs, driving
trucks on the Brisbane-Sydney run and working as a builder's laborer,
work that took him away too long from the lazy days on beaches and
pleasant nights with girls so easily picked up. At Surfer's Paradise it
was holiday time all year round. For Hugh, that was what life was all
about-sun, sea and girls-a life his police sergeant father constantly
complained about, always unavailingly. Typically Australian, the young
surfer detested snobbery and resented being looked down on for his
coarse accent-he considered himself as good as anyone.

Hugh eased his six foot frame out of the sea and strolled along the
beach to a small group of friends from his team. They all wore the
little red and green caps tied with tape under their chins. Their
carnival swimsuits were also green with a band of red zigzagged from
chest to crotch. The "crooked phallic symbol," they called it. He
lowered himself down onto the sand beside Tiger Kelly.

"Just picked up a snooty little American broad, Tiger," he said,
cocking his eyes out to where Linda was sliding his board down a wave.
"There she goes."

"Looks fuckable from here," drawled Tiger. "What's she like close up?"

"Pretty as a picture. Well stacked and a butt like two ripe melons. Bit
young though-might be unlucky thirteen, but I'm hoping she's lucky
sixteen."

"Better keep old Sludge-Pump Yates away from her. You know what a
bastard he is with kids. Likes to try and split them apart with his
colossal tool," Tiger observed, referring to Jim Yates, another of the
team. "Of course, we could always open her up for him."

"Yeah," replied Hugh, "and don't forget I get the openers. Don't start
getting ideas yet, friend. We haven't got it on a plate."

"What's the plan, Hugh? Can we use Jenny's apartment?"

Jenny was Hugh's cousin who shared an apartment with another girl in a
building at the north end of the beach. She was a leading fashion model
who traveled a great deal to other cities and had invited Hugh to stay
at the apartment while he was down for the carnivals at Bondi and
Coogee. Hugh often wondered why Jenny never seemed to have a regular
boyfriend, let alone prospective husband. At twenty-seven, she was a
stunningly beautiful girl. Hugh supposed she was too busy with her
career, never staying anywhere long enough to establish a lasting
association with a man. Tiger Kelly had taken her out in Brisbane and
had gotten nowhere with her. A bit of a dyke, he thought then, keeping
his ideas to himself so as not to offend Hugh who could be quick-
tempered and a little too ready with his fists.

"Jenny won't be back from Melbourne until late tonight and her
roommate's away in the country," said Hugh. "I think the little Yankee
doll and I might have a twosome after the carnival. You guys can come
along later for a gang-bang," he added, relapsing into his normal
coarse speech.

Having caught two long rides right up to the beach Linda decided to
leave the water to dry off in the sun. As she dragged the board onto
the sand, she saw Hugh detach himself from the group of men in green
and red swimsuits and run towards her. She couldn't help but notice his
powerful build, the lithe and easy stride of his long legs-nor could
she help looking down the red zigzag to the bulge between his legs. She
felt a strange excitement slowly building up inside her, putting it
down to the fact that she liked the look of this fresh-faced Australian
with his nice smile and twinkling blue eyes. Surely she couldn't be
falling in love with a complete stranger, especially one dressed as
though he were prepared for some outlandish beach side-show or circus.
The idea somehow thrilled her. Tom was thousands of miles away. Why
shouldn't she like someone she met in the sea, someone who was built
like a Greek god?

"You ride a board like an expert. Almost as good as a man," Hugh said,
laughing as he ran up to greet her. "What did you think of it?"

"I loved the ride," Linda replied. "But I'm afraid the board is out of
my league. I'd be happier with a shorter one."

"I can arrange that, if you're staying around for awhile," said Hugh,
remembering that Jenny had a shorter board in her apartment.

"Oh, I'll be around for two weeks. Daddy is here on business. In fact,
we are staying in an apartment over there," Linda said, pointing to the
large apartment building. "Look, on the third floor, I think that's mom
on the balcony watching us." Linda waved and the figure on the balcony
waved back then lifted her right arm, signaling to Linda that it was
time she returned for lunch. "I'm afraid I'll have to go. Thank you
very much Hugh for the board."

"Before you go I'd like you to meet my friends, some of the boys from
the Brisbane team." They walked over to the group sitting on the sand.
"This is Tiger, that's Billy and that one laying down is Sludge ... I
mean Jim."

They smilingly called their hellos, letting her know with their eyes
their approval of her face and figure. The one called Jim was a little
too appraising, his eyes lasciviously glued on the four inches of
bikini that covered the space between her legs. She nodded coldly in
their direction. They didn't appeal to her at all.

"I suppose you have to be friendly with members of your team," she
remarked, her nose tilting in the air. "It's too bad they're such a
dull group." Hugh could hardly believe his ears and a red flush of
temper colored his cheeks. She did not notice the anger showing on his
face as she walked away. He decided to say nothing for the time being.

He dropped the board to walk with her to the steps. "Are you coming to
watch the carnival this afternoon?" he asked.

"I can't wait," she replied. "I'm dying to see the surf-boat race."

"I'll look out for you Linda. Afterwards you might like to meet my
cousin Jenny. She'll lend you her board for as long as you like."

"Yes, I'd love to meet her. Thank you very much. You must come to our
apartment sometime to meet dad and mom. See you later at the carnival.
Bye for now, Hugh."

"Cheerio, Linda."

As he watched her crossing the street his eyes were drawn to the
magnetic sight of her light brown, silken back with its little cleft
showing above her buttocks, the slim legs and thin ankles, the long
blonde hair bouncing back into its natural waves as the sun dried it
out. He watched until she disappeared into the entrance of the
apartment building. Looking up at the balcony he saw her mother still
watching; he waved to her but she made no response; perhaps she was
looking at the scene on the beach where thousands of people in a
variety of beach gear were lounging around on the hot sand ... or
perhaps she was a snob, too.

As Linda entered the apartment she was unable to prevent her mind again
filling with resentment against her parents, remembering that debauched
scene of her mother sucking away at her father's penis ... and
swallowing. She wished she hadn't returned from the beach where she
felt free and happy riding rollers in on Hugh's board. Why did that
scene of debauchery keep returning to haunt her mind? She was
unreasonably annoyed when her mother asked, "Who was that person I saw
you talking to on the beach?

"Oh, just a boy who loaned me a surf hoard. He's one of the life savers
or whatever they call themselves; he's in the carnival this afternoon,"
she replied, somewhat petulantly. Linda had enjoyed so much freedom and
trust back home she now resented this tone of her mother, suggesting
that her independence could be restricted. "Is lunch ready?" she asked.
"I'm starved."

"Yes, it's all ready," her mother replied. She had long accepted the
fact that Linda was a headstrong girl. "You'd better leave your shower
until later."

After lunch Linda washed off the salt water and lay on her bed with the
sunlight playing on her naked body, her eyes closed as she felt the
heat relaxing her. Half-asleep in the sun-induced doze, she dreamily
caressed her small, rounded breasts, bringing the little pink nipples
up as she did so, then letting one hand almost aimlessly wander down
along her flat stomach, her palm pressing firmly down until she felt
the soft mound of her pubic triangle. As she sank towards sleep she
felt with her middle finger the lips of her vagina, unconsciously
probing further until her finger slid unexpectedly into the moist
groove. She rolled gently from side to side with her hand still there,
her finger moving slowly back and forth over the firmly erect clitoris.
She was barely conscious of what she was doing or the fact that she was
getting half-formed visions of Hugh's face ... her mother guiding her
father's cock inside her ... Hugh running towards her ... the swollen
red patch of his carnival swimming costume. The sensuousness of the
touch of her finger lingered with her as she fell into a deep,
contented sleep.


Chapter 4


It was around three o'clock in the afternoon when a loud knocking on
Linda's bedroom door awakened her, causing her to sit up with a start.
She thought she was in her own room at home until she saw the strange
walls and furniture.

"Princess, wake up," called the reassuring voice of her father. "We're
leaving now." He opened the door an inch or two, seeing her naked on
the bed. For the first time that she could remember she felt
embarrassed with him looking at her. "I looked in earlier," he added,
"but you were sleeping so soundly I didn't have the heart to wake you."

"What time is it?" she asked, thinking to herself that it was time her
parents respected her privacy.

"A little after three. You'd better hurry if you don't want to miss the
carnival, though I wonder if anyone can get near the parades, the beach
is so packed. There must be a hundred thousand people down there. We'll
be back at about seven. We've left the phone number where you can
contact us if you need to. 'Bye now, Princess." His eyes furtively
lingered longer than was necessary on her ripe young body.

"Bye baby, have a nice time," called her mother as they left the
apartment.

Linda looked out the window at the scene on the beach. She had never
seen so many people jammed together on a beach. There were squads of
Life Savers, each squad in different colored costumes, marching in a
high knee-action along the sand, row after row of tall, bronzed young
men. In the front of each squad one of them carried a short pole with a
banner proclaiming the name of the surf team. She could pick out the
Brisbane team in their green and red; the man in front looked like
Hugh, she thought. Again she experienced that strange tightening inside
her, an excitement combined with apprehension; she felt it right
through her body, a moist heat forming under her naked mound. She
unconsciously let her hand caress herself before hurriedly slipping
into her bikini. Perhaps she should wear a beach dress, she thought.
No, she felt better-freer-in her bikini. She must hurry, not to miss
the parade; she put on her sandals, picked up her Polaroid camera,
grabbed a towel and rushed out of the apartment, slamming the door
behind her.

Damn! She'd forgotten her beach purse and the front-door key. Stepping
out of the elevator she looked for a hall porter's office on the ground
floor. There was none! Gosh, I'm locked out until seven this evening,
she thought, without worrying too much about it.

The street was empty of moving traffic; everything had come to a stop.
Linda walked down to the beach and forced her way through the crowd
until it became so thick around the parading Life Savers she could move
no further.

"I'll give you a leg up," suggested a leering youth, putting his hand
under her ass. A bald, middle-aged man standing nearby laughed. "I'll
give you a finger up," he called crudely to her as she pushed away to
stand near what appeared to be a respectable family group. Soon there
was loud cheering. "That's the end of it. Maraboubra's won again," she
heard someone say. Linda walked well away from the main crowd to where
she could sit down and watch the life boats being rowed in a race
through the surf, a few boats being overturned in the process. She
stood up in time to see the green-and-red team's boat nose up in the
air, twist sideways and turn over in the foam of a huge dumping wave.
That must be Hugh's boat, she thought, and ran along the wet sand. It
was the Brisbane boat, swamped and out of the race. He came ashore
carrying an oar over his shoulder, grinning as if he'd won. She lifted
her camera and snapped.

"Hi there, Linda. Did you see us turn turtle? The steersman's being
brought in unconscious so we're out of the race."

"Gee, I'm sorry, Hugh."

"Oh, I'll get over it!" he grinned boyishly. "I'm just going to see if
Jim's OK and then how about you and me going to the north end for a
swim? It's not so crowded up there."

"I'd like that, if we can actually get there through this crowd."

"Nothing to it. We'll walk along the promenade."

Hugh saw that Jim had come around with nothing worse than a lump on his
head. He rejoined Linda, walking her a half-mile or so along the
scorching concrete promenade at the back of the beach which was crowded
from one end to the other. Linda could see little point in trying to
swim anywhere, it was all too unpleasantly packed. Hugh agreed with
her. "May as well go home," he suggested, testing to see if she wanted
to stay with him. Her answer was promising:

"That's not possible for a few hours. I forgot to bring a door key and
my parents are out for the whole afternoon. They won't be back until
this evening." She neglected to add that it was to see him that she had
rushed out of the apartment in such a hurry.

Hugh tried to appear concerned. "Look, I'll tell you what we'll do if
you like. I'll take you to Jenny's apartment. She's my cousin. A
terrific girl, you'll like her. She lives just over there," indicating
a modern apartment block across the street. "She's very respectable, a
top-class model. And anyway I wanted to borrow her board for you. How
about it, do you trust me?"

Linda trusted that winning smile and those steady eyes. She could see
now that he had removed his cap that his hair was a sandy color, a
little too short by modern standards though probably right for a
swimmer. That feeling inside her suddenly welled up again. Her heart
seemed to beat a little faster. She should refuse the invitation-he was
a complete stranger, and she was virtually alone in a strange country,
moreover, the phone number her parents left was in the locked apartment
... and she wondered if she could trust herself.

"Yes, Hugh, I trust you." she lied. She didn't really ... but she found
herself wanting to trust him. As soon as she had said "Yes" she
regretted it, because she thought she saw a sudden strange glint in his
eyes. Even then she couldn't say "No". It would be all right, she told
herself. Australians were decent people, the most sports-minded people
in the world. Her father admired and respected them very much. "Old-
fashioned and old-world people. Pioneer people," she'd heard him
describe them. "You never hear of rape cases in Australia," she'd heard
her mother tell someone on the phone. "You never hear of muggings in
Australian cities ..."

With these thoughts going around her mind she found herself walking out
of the hot sun into the cool foyer of a building. They were going up in
the elevator when she suddenly realized that High didn't have his towel
with him, and when he produced a key from a chain around his neck she
suddenly felt apprehensive.

"Do you live here, too?" she asked.

"No, I'm just staying here while I'm in Sydney. Don't you believe it's
Jenny's apartment? Look at the clothes-do you think I'd wear them?"
Linda looked into a bedroom strewn with dresses and a table covered
with cosmetics.

"Where's Jenny?" Linda asked.

"Must be down on the beach with a hundred thousand others," said Hugh,
laughing. "How about an Aussie Coke?"

"I could drink a gallon, I'm so thirsty," laughed Linda, feeling
relaxed again and rather more sure of this stranger in his funny
outfit. He was soon back with tall glasses filled with Coke and ice.
They clinked glasses.

"One thing I must do," he said, "is take a shower. Jenny gets mad at me
for bringing sand and salt into this place. Will you please excuse me
for a minute?"

"Of course. Perhaps I should wash the sand off, too," she called after
him as he went to the bathroom. She took a long drink of her Coke. It
was cold but what a strange flavor ... quite different from the Coke at
home. Thirstily she drained the whole glass. Hugh was literally a
minute taking his shower, returning dressed in blue trunks and a
flowered shirt open all the way down the front.

"That was quick," she said.

"Your turn next. Like another Coke before you go?"

"Yes, please, Hugh. I must say your Coke tastes very different from
ours. Seems to be a little flatter or something."

"I've never tried yours so I wouldn't know the difference," he said,
bringing her another filled glass from the kitchen. "Here's to us," he
toasted, draining the glass. "Here's to us," she responded, draining
hers.

It was while she was under the shower that she felt the first strong
effects of the vodka spiked in her drink: the glassed shower stall
seemed to sway; the dizziness passed, but then she felt as though all
her strength had drained from her body. She had to get out of the
shower. She stumbled to pick up a towel and sat on a stool, drying
herself as she wondered what on earth had come over her. Could it have
been too much sun? Her father had always warned her of the dangerous
rays that particularly affected fair-skinned people. She felt she had
to get out of the steamy bathroom before she really did faint, and
wrapping the large bath towel around herself dazedly returned to the
living room.

"What's the matter, you look a bit pale?" asked Hugh in a voice full of
concern.

"I think it must be the sun. A touch of sunstroke. Could I have another
cold Coke? I really am thirsty," Linda murmured, sitting down on the
couch.

"Sure thing. I'll mix a couple more," he said, wanting to kick himself
for using the word "mix", but she didn't seem to notice. She was on the
way out. He brought the drinks and sat down beside her, telling her to
drink up-it would do her good. The only way to cure a touch of the sun
was to stay cool, inside.

"Thanksh, Hugh," she mumbled, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I like
you." He noticed the slurring, and his loins began to heat up as he
placed an arm around her shoulders.

"That's nice to hear, Linda. I like you, too. I like what I'm going to
do to you, more."

She jerked her head up, a soft curl falling across her forehead. "What
are you going to do to me?" she asked, pouting her lips.

"Kiss you," he said, pulling her head towards him and kissing her on
her hot yielding mouth. Letting his empty glass slip to the floor he
slowly pulled aside the towel, exposing her small round breasts, the
nipples already formed into hard little points of pink. Her skin felt
as smooth as satin as he caressed her proudly upthrust breasts. She
kept her mouth on his, pressing hard with her eyes closed. She felt his
tongue probing for hers and she replied, pushing her tongue past his
into his mouth. When he pressed his hand against her and closed his
fingers around her right breast she made a vague attempt to push his
arm away; she pushed twice before weakly giving up. He tried to pull
away from her lips only to find that she wanted more, wanted to stay
kissing with her mouth and tongue working greedily on his as if she
were starved.

Jeez, he realized, she's a red hot number, and I thought she was all
innocence. He pulled away, taking off his shirt. She half-opened her
eyes, startled.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking off my shirt. Next go my trunks, see?" he grinned, dropping
them on the floor.

The terrified young virgin stared unbelievingly at his thick swollen
penis jutting straight out from a mass of sandy pubic hair. "Oh no, NO!
NO! NO!" she pleaded, too shocked when he slapped her to feel the
stinging blow on her cheek. "Oh please don't, Hugh, please don't," she
begged piteously as he roughly ripped the towel away from her naked
body and pushed her sprawling in all her nakedness back along the
couch. "Oh please don't," she pleaded in a last desperate bid for mercy
as he lay alongside her, bringing her mouth to his and shoving his hand
forcefully up between her legs.

"You want it, you bitch," he growled at her. "I can feel how wet you
are. You're aching for it, aren't you? You want me to fuck you."

"NO, I've NEVER done it," she gasped. She felt that she had been
drugged, she was so weak. Suddenly it dawned on her-it wasn't the sun,
it was something in the Coke. It must be!

Something deep down inside her drink-fogged brain wanted him to force
her, yet she was afraid and he was revolting her with his crude
language. I'm not a bitch, she said to herself. Not like my mother. Why
did Hugh have to say "fuck" - that ugly four-letter word? Why did his
penis remind her of her father's? The size, she mused hazily, the size
... she could feel it pressing against her belly, hard and pulsating
with a glistening clear drop of seeping moisture at its tip. Hugh's
tongue was driving hard up into her mouth and she involuntarily
answered his lewd French kiss with her own tongue, as she irresistibly
thrust her quivering pussy up in search of his probing finger. She felt
herself crying. She had no strength to push him off when he rolled on
top of her, his strong legs forcing hers apart slowly but surely as the
hand that had been driving up toward her pussy moved quickly underneath
her straining ass-cheeks to move her body down so that she could feel
his hot hard penis probing up into the crevice of her cringing cuntal
slit. He's going to fuck me! Oh God, my thoughts are becoming as crude
as a whore's! As crude as my mother's. Oh, how can I stop him? she
thought wildly as her body seemed to respond in spite of her
conscience.

Her pussy was now undulating frantically under Hugh's weight, reaching
up to kiss his cock with its grasping lips. The fingers of the hand he
held under her buttocks were probing greedily up into the soft valley
between her ass-cheeks, at the same time pulling the rounded half-moons
toward him so that his rock-hard cock pressed more firmly into her
trembling vaginal flesh.

The handsome young surfer lifted his face from hers, moving down to
suck her swollen nipples, and lick her breasts up and down, then back
to the taut little peaks from one upthrust mound to the other. This
made her think of Tom, bringing with it the thought of the hot sperm he
had splashed across her cheek and breasts.

"Ohhh, don't, I don't want to," she moaned, pushing up with her body
this time in protest against Hugh's powerful weight.

Hugh reached down with both hands, spreading her legs wide apart to
give better access to the blood-filled head of his cock as he started
to push viciously against the soft entrance of her tender young vagina.
Jeez, he thought, maybe she is a virgin. I can't get it in, it's so
small.

"Stop trying to squeeze your thighs together, you little bitch.
Otherwise I'll ram it right up into you. It won't hurt if you let go.
Take it easy, baby, and see how nice it can be."

Linda fought to hold her thighs taut but the effect of the vodka and
the uncontrollable urge of her body overwhelmed her, so that slowly she
relaxed her futile attempts to prevent the heedless assault on her
virginal young loins. With every slight giving-way of her resistance,
the farther that threatening thick cock moved into her, her own
moisture and the wetness coming from his rampaging penis combining to
defeat her feeble struggles.

Suddenly, it was as if her insides had exploded. Hugh made a violent
lunging thrust, breaking the delicate virginal membrane, surging
through to plunge deep up inside her trembling cunt. She didn't dare
move for fear of increasing the sudden searing pain, and she clung to
him, desperately trying to keep him from advancing any farther.

"Aaaaagghh! Please don't move it, oh please don't. You'll tear me
apart."

Hugh waited a minute to let her calm down, giving her cunt time to
gradually adjust to the sudden intrusion of his full pulsing length as
he pushed his fingers into her golden hair to pull her head up so that
he could kiss her fearfully quivering lips. As he did so he began
gently flexing his turgid cock-shaft inside her, slowly, very slowly at
first, until in a little while he was moving it in and out in small
smooth strokes lubricated by her secretions. God, she liked it! He
could tell by the way she was kissing him now in wild erotic abandon.

The sandy-haired Australian reached down with one hand to pull her
buttocks toward his own loins, smiling when she thrust up to help him,
and as the length of his stroke increased the teen-age American threw
her legs around his back and began to gyrate her pelvis in a lewd
rhythm, her body lost in a fire of smoldering passion. Her senses were
immersed in the haze of unaccustomed alcohol as every muscle in her
body tensed with the strain of raising her ass-cheeks and hips upward
toward that hotly prodding cock up between her legs. If she had only
known before how wonderful it was, the man on top of her now would have
been Tom. Yet the drink-dimmed blonde wondered if she really cared.
God, she suddenly realized, how degraded she was, how wanton! She must
stop. NOW!

Linda tried to push Hugh away, but again she hadn't the strength, and
he pinned her down sharply by pushing his stone-hard rod forward to
pinion her firmly against the couch. The pummeling was so intense she
thought he must surely rupture her insides, and she groaned as he
pushed up on the next instroke and groaned louder as he held it there,
ramming so far up into her vaginal recesses she could feel his balls
slapping obscenely against the moist cheeks of her clenched buttocks.

She squirmed helplessly beneath him, feeling the hot throbbing
intrusion as his blunt instrument skewered cruelly into her cringing
cunt, flexing her vaginal walls in a vain effort to adjust to his
impaling thickness. But the squeeze of her contracting pussy-flesh only
had the effect of exciting him to pursue with renewed vigor his
merciless thrusts up into her defenseless cuntal depths.

"Not so hard, Hugh," she begged pitifully.

He noticed the tears running down her cheeks as he grinned lewdly down
at her.

"Say please," he demanded, thrusting his loins forward harshly.

"Oh, please," the writhing girl whimpered.

"Please what ... please do what? Ask me to fuck you, bitch!"

Realizing that she was hopelessly trapped on his impaling shaft, the
feebly struggling young virgin thought: It's all my own fault. It was
asking for trouble to come here alone with Hugh. The relentlessly
pistoning rod was lighting unwanted fires in her loins and abruptly it
came to her that she wanted it, she wanted him to fuck her.

"Please fuck me. Fuck me gently, Hugh." She abandoned herself to the
exquisite pain that was a perverse kind of pleasure. There was no
strength left in her to resist as his cock continued jack-hammering
into her virginal cuntal depths, her wracked body coming to life on its
own, giving way to the hunger that had grown in her dilated vagina.
Their bodies were by now slippery with sweat and he was sliding
backward and forward over her, his chest pushing tight against her
small virginal breasts, their nipples pink and protuberant.

She closed her eyes, lost in a haze of helpless abandonment. In her
mind she had not completely surrendered herself, although for a while
that day she had idly thought she was half in love with this sun-tanned
Australian. Now it seemed her body was wanting his body, betraying her
conscious wish with its unconscious yearnings, and there was nothing
she could do about it.

To Hugh, the conquest was easier than he thought it would be. The way
she carried herself in that holier-than-thou attitude, the way she
barely condescended to say hello to his friends. Who the hell did she
think she was? To him she was a succulent little morsel, a gorgeous
golden peach just ripening and ready to be plucked. He'd had a hard
time keeping his old monster at bay, knowing that if she'd seen his
swimsuit bulging with a hard-on she'd have run like a frightened deer
in a forest fire. He'd never had one as young as this. Young and proud,
the little bitch. Wait till he brought the boys up to look her over!
Sludge-Pump Yates would give her a nice big souvenir of Bondi Beach.
While he was reaching around her ass-cheeks to wet his finger so that
he could shove it up her little brown rubbery asshole he began working
on a plan that would give all his mates a go at her. They'd make her
the best-fucked ex-virgin in New South Wales, root her to a standstill-
if she could take it.

He felt her grinding up to him now, really grinding, wanting more and
more of it. It must have been a reaction to his finger going into her
asshole, going in so far he could actually feel the movement of his
cock inside her. She liked that all right. He worked back at her,
moving high up on her so that as his raging cock moved in and out, his
body rubbed harder on her clitoris, bringing her toward her first
orgasm.

The lust-inflamed girl had stopped talking now, simply moaning with
ecstasy.

"Ask me again. What do you want me to do," he breathed in her ear.

But all she could do was mumble "Fuck me, fuck me," and continue the
soft rising and falling moan. She was on the way to passing out from
the three stiff vodkas-the leg opener had sure worked a treat, he
gloated to himself. She mumbled something else, something about "Mom
sucking Daddy's cock ..." Interesting, he thought.

He raised himself up on his hands to gloatingly stare at her face, her
fluttering eyelids, her gasping mouth, her two deliciously budding
breasts with their erect pink nipples, the narrow waist and the flat
stomach. He sucked in his belly so that he could watch his cock pumping
into her, withdrawing slowly then rushing it back forcefully into that
glorious warm cunt, so tight and so moist, that rose to meet his
thrust. God, she loved it and wanted it. She was now wanting his finger
in her rectum as much as she wanted his furiously pumping cock in her
cunt, and she was beginning to writhe more rapidly. She already had
learned to control her cunt muscles, timing their contraction and
expansion with contractions of her anal opening.

"Fuck me," she shamelessly moaned, "Fuck me."

Then more quickly she repeated it, "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," and
louder still, "FUCK ME, FUCK ME, OH FUCK ME."

Hugh was fucking as he'd never fucked before. This was the best piece
of tail he'd ever had. Were all Yankee broads like this, he wondered.
Jeez, what a wonderful breed. He increased the speed of his st



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