Maureen Quincy - Forbidden Sex Games

It slid into the eager mouth like a knife slicing into rancid butter. The straining, rigid flesh of the boy's knob crammed tightly into Lisa's slit, pushing aside the moist and agitated lips, fucking straight up into the depths of her quim with a force that buried it in one swift movement to its hilt. He reached beneath her, scooping his hands into her buttocks and lifting the girl upwards. She opened her thighs to their widest extent-her legs quivering from toe to crotch on the warm, well-trimmed grass-jerking her hips up and down as she received the mighty strokes of Richard's knob.

Wildly, they screwed to a climax: the battering force of the boy's sex-weapon filling Lisa with hot, satisfying sperm as he pounded out his orgasm within moments of entering her cunt. The long, sustained outpouring was physically satisfying, but their emotions were still in a state of turmoil at Kathleen's unaccountable disappearance at the height of the orgy. They remained locked together, the powerful shaft of Richard's prick continuing to vibrate inside his step-sister's quim even though the last drops of spunk had dripped from the weapon. A sense of isolation came over the couple, an emptiness that baffled and perplexed them…

Breathing deeply, with their bodies tightly entwined and their flesh bathed with perspiration, they didn't hear the crunch of gravel as their father's car entered the driveway to the garage at the side of the garden.

Nor did they realise that John Cunningham was now striding down the path towards them, his features undergoing a frightful series of contortions. At first, he had merely glimpsed their naked figures and assumed that they were romping playfully-in itself a misdemeanour which warranted serious punishment. But as he drew closer to the children, seeing that their bodies were motionless, that Richard was lying on top of Lisa and that the girl's legs were spread wide beneath her step-brother, Cunningham's face turned white and his hands knotted into big, angry fists.

For a moment, as he towered over the couple, and as they turned their startled, fearful eyes upwards, he half-believed that he was imagining the scene; that his mind was playing a cruel trick, that the loathsome and impossible degradation before him was a figment of fantasy…

Then Cunningham rubbed his knuckles fiercely into his eyes-as if trying to wipe away the dreadful imprint on his retinas, — and when he removed his hands, seeing the same filthy picture confronting him, he lost all control: punching wildly and furiously into the flesh he had helped to create, veins standing out on his forehead like thick red cords as he struck them again and again…

It was conceivable that force of his violent anger might have led John Cunningham into killing the boy and girl with his bare hands. But, fortunately, the brutal punishment which he was inflicting on Lisa and Richard was interrupted by Kathleen before any serious injuries had been suffered by the children.

She came running out into the garden directly she heard their screams-a dressing gown donned hastily but concealingly around her body. After a strenuous blows from the man's wildly swinging fists, she succeeded in calming him down a little… sufficiently, at any rate, for Cunningham to stop beating the helpless, cringing young couple and lurch away towards the house; his body shaking with fury.

Kathleen managed to drive home the message that his violence would attract the attention of the neighbours, and it was this factor above all other considerations which persuaded Cunningham to desist. Whispering quickly to the children, urging them to keep out of the way while she talked to their father-and pleading with terrified eyes for them not to implicate her in the scandal which had erupted-Kathleen followed Cunningham through the French windows and into the lounge; waiting and trying to control the trembling of her knees while he poured himself several stiff brandies and gulped them back in swift succession.

He kept his back to the Governess while he drank, and when he finally turned to face the woman Cunningham's face was drained of colour-his normally ruddy complexion a pasty white. He sank heavily into an armchair. His eyes had lost their fire and seemed glazed; his voice was defeated and a mere shadow of its former deep timbre.

“Did you know about this?”

Kathleen shook her head, not trusting herself to speak just yet.

“I can't believe it!” Cunningham whispered. “They had everything! I did everything a man without a wife could do… they never wanted for a damn thing!”

Kathleen knew better than to contradict him. She hovered anxiously near the French windows, which were now closed, listening until the long tirade of his self-pitying monologue had exhausted itself. Cunningham eventually lapsed into silence, and she summoned up the courage to approach him. Tentatively, Kathleen suggested that perhaps the best-the only-solution might be to separate Lisa and Richard in the hope that their forbidden intimacy would be allowed to die a natural death.

“Please try not to be too hard on them, Mr. Cunningham,” she pleaded. “I realise what a terrible shock this discovery has been for you, but they aren't unique: oversensitive, introverted youngsters who don't form relationships outside their own family have unfortunately been mutually attracted before. History is full of-.”

“I don't give a damn about history-or your psychological explanations!” Cunningham roared furiously. “To think that children of mine could…” He broke off for a few moments, obviously close to tears. Then: “But you're right about separating them. By God!” Cunningham vowed, clenching his fists again. “I'm going to make sure that neither of them set eyes on each other again! Tell them to come in here-we're going to settle this right now!”

Nervously-more afraid now that either Lisa or Richard would expose her part in their sex-games-Kathleen pushed one of the windows open and called to the children.

There were bruises on their bodies and their mouths were bleeding where Cunningham's brutal fists had scored into the lips. But hey seemed strangely defiant, holding their heads high and looking their father in the face; although both Lisa and Richard took care to keep a distance from the seated, glowering man-and diplomatically stood well apart from each other as well. They had donned their swimsuits, and Kathleen had to turn her face from them in case she betrayed the involuntary excitement which she couldn't keep from her eyes at the sight of the half-nude bodies which her hands and her lips had known so intimately…

John Cunningham controlled himself with a visible effort. He stabbed an accusing finger at the guilty pair, his hand shaking.

“From this moment on you're strangers to me!” he thundered. “You'll be provided for, but I never want to see either of you again as long as I live! I don't want to hear explanations-there's nothing either of you can say, nothing you can do to defend yourselves! Just think yourselves damn lucky I didn't kill you out there in the garden…

“You, Richard!” The boy quailed as Cunningham turned the full force of his attention on him. “I'm sending you to a private boarding school. You'll go at the end of the week! It's something I'd been planning for you in any case, but now I can see I was foolish to hesitate.” He got up from his chair and towered over Richard, finding great difficulty in keeping his hands from striking his son again.

“They'll make a man of you there!” Cunningham pro-missed, tight-lipped and sneering. “They'll knock these filthy ideas out of your head! And when they've turned you into a healthy, red-blooded specimen-when they've beaten and disciplined you into shape-you'll be prepared for entry into Sandhurst military academy!