Maureen Quincy - Forbidden Sex Games

Chabrol allowed her to recover from his unexpected attack. He waited, enjoying the extremely tight pressure which surrounded his knob, softly caressing the outer lips of Lisa's sex and crouching closely over the girl, his mouth kissing her quivering back as if she was a terrified doe caught in a trap. When he considered that she was now ready to receive a thorough arse-fucking, he began to ease his tightly-clamped cock slowly backwards… withdrawing the hot-blooded penis an inch at a time and savoring every moment of its passage through the humid, red-tinged meat of Lisa's anus. Before the spearhead could slip free of the small, bruised mouth, Chabrol checked the movement. He paused for a few seconds, then fucked forward again-driving his rod back into the puckered shit-place and leaning his weight on the girl until it slid beautifully to its hilt once more.

Lisa was prepared this time. She concentrated on keeping her sphincter as relaxed as possible, facilitating the thrust of Chabrol's dick by yielding passively to its thick progress along her rear tube.

At the third inward lunge, Lisa actually began to enjoy the sensation! She screwed her arse-cheeks around in a provocative, encouraging undulation; shamelessly flaunting her hind-quarters and pushing her buttocks strenuously against the incoming prick. The cheeks rubbed intimately into Chabrol's crotch each time he fucked forward, moving reluctantly but briefly away from the hairy loins as he withdrew.

Gradually, the momentum of his arse-fucking increased. Chabrol was now driving lustily in and out of the forbidden slot, working his cock furiously back and forth-reaming out the brown tunnel until Lisa's response was as violent as his hot lunges; her uptilted bottom waggling around, her breasts shimmying as they hung loosely over the arm of the ottoman. She went into rut-jerking her hips insanely and crying out in fevered, sobbing phrases that her cunt was filling with cream…

“Fuck me! Fuck me!!” Lisa urged shrilly. “Stick it into me-harder, harder, you bastard! Oh, I could shit all over your prick! It's so stiff! It's fucking right through my body! I'm going to come-I'm going to come out of my arse, you beautiful fucker!!”

Chabrol stabbed more and more violently into her anus, his strokes keener now-his hard-fucking weapon ploughing and slewing through the wet, shitty meat as Lisa spurred him on with her obscene, crazed ranting.

Facing them, now leaning forward and scrabbling wildly into her cunt, Kathleen watched the couple in profile: seeing her ex-lover's cock poking vigorously into the girl's arse-now disappearing between the raised, urgently working cheeks, now sliding free of them and pausing for a second or two, poised at the darling's white buttocks, its stalwart red length quivering with naked violence before it again sank out of view and fucked into its dark, wetly welcoming domain… Suddenly, after a frantic series of jerks that sent Chabrol's prick rapidly in and out of Lisa's anus, the pair locked together-their bodies shuddering with the joy of simultaneous orgasm. Kathleen's eyes lost their focus. She frigged her quim until the slit dripped with come, whipping the long forefinger of her right hand in a rapid motion that scratched at the red, juicy walls and made her thighs pump open-and-shut. And with the excitement of her own climax, the woman no longer cared that she was excluded from the far more ecstatic union which Lisa and Chabrol were sharing…

This was the pinnacle of Lisa's sexual experience so far. She had never, in her most erotic daydreams, imagined that an orgasm could be so violently thrilling-especially without being aided by the penetration of her cunt! But the gouts of spunk which Chabrol was shooting into her arse more than compensated for any lack in her sex-slit: as he fucked stream after stream of thick, curdling cream through her anus and skewered her much-stretched bum-hole on his massive shaft.

The girl collapsed into a mind-expanding, pyrotechnical world of flaming suns and multi-coloured star patterns; her senses reeling uncontrollably with each pulse of the man's knob. Comets flared before her closed eyelids, bursting into showers of lumpy, porridge-textured spunk that rained heavily over her body and filled her nostrils with the pungent smell of male sperm.

As Lisa tightened her sphincter, involuntarily contracting the deep muscles of her arse, Chabrol felt his sex being squeezed by a powerful, fleshy vice. He thrust the prick in and out-fucking twice more into the girl's sodden, rigidly-clamping tube of a shitter-and ejaculated another, final, flow of semen into her bowels before his orgasm was spent…

Lisa emerged from this shattering experience a fully-grown woman: not only in a physical sense, but also psychologically. She had been brought abruptly to maturity, her always-present sensuality ripened into full flower by Louis Chabrol's violent seduction. From him, and the other men who were to follow in swift succession, Lisa learnt that her body was a magical garden where thrilling and often strange seeds could grow; it was an oasis, a watering-place for quick or gradual desire, and she came-in the years of her late adolescence-to realise that her sex (that small, private and ever-moist cleft between her thighs) attracted worshippers both male and female… all of them anxious to sacrifice their lust at its deep, possessive fount.

Thus began Lisa's true separation from her step-brother. From this time on, she diverged in ways both spiritual and emotional from Richard: enveloping herself in a world of growing eroticism, sharing the delights of her body with any healthy man or woman who cared to seduce her. And the easy tempo of life in the Lebanon also inclined Lisa towards a more introspective nature, there being no necessity for the girl to concern herself with materialism or financial worries.

Kathleen Wynter remained as a constant companion, but Lisa was drawing further and further away from the ex-Governess as well. During the first few months in Beirut, the woman was useful to Lisa; but when she had exhausted Kathleen's few contacts in the city, the girl no longer bothered about her faithful teacher… making new friends without Kathleen's aid and gradually excluding her from the parties and the sexual orgies which Lisa attended every weekend.

Fortunately for her, Kathleen was too loyal to betray the girl to John Cunningham. She remembered the debt which she owed Lisa and Richard: and Kathleen now repaid their silence by writing encouraging letters to their father, telling him that Lisa was proving to be a model pupil-“a shining example to the other girls at Byblos,” she lied shamelessly…

There was only one vital link now existing between the step-brother and sister. Their deep-rooted and omnipresent obsession with each other made it impossible for either Lisa or Richard to sustain a relationship with a third person…

Richard knew now what it felt like to be a wanted man. Every stranger they passed seemed to stare suspiciously into his eyes, every police constable was regarding him with a quizzical expression-probably running through his mental file of dangerous criminals, about to stretch out a strong, uniformed arm and grab him by the shoulder!

But they strolled through the ticket barrier at Charing Cross railway station without incident; and although Richard caught a glimpse of his hunted, anxiety-ridden expression in the reflected glass of the public telephone kiosks, nobody was really paying him any attention. He shuffled nervously from one foot to the other, wishing Spencer would hurry up with the telephone call. Standing here by himself, jostled by the rush-hour crowds, Richard felt conspicuous and transparent: certain that at any moment he would be recognised and dragged back on the next train to Fernleigh and the dreaded school…