Mark Carver - Family with the hots

If only she didn't live in such a middle-class, clean-cut All-American neighborhood, damnit! Her fingers darted faster in and out of her now-madly pulsing cunt, while she wondered if she could hold out for three more days until Jack came back for his next lesson.

In a few minutes, the wildly moaning brunette was coming again, gushing hot cunt-juices freely over her pumping fingers.

Finished, Anne lay with her tits heaving feverishly on the sofa. Now that ought to take care of her crazed hunger until tomorrow, at least.

It ought to. But with a gnawing sense of lust the sensuous divorcee knew damn well it wouldn't. She was beginning to really need it now, all night long, every night. The young neighborhood stud hadn't solved her problem at all.

Breakfast at the Jensen house was usually a cheerful affair, with lovely young Marsha gaily chatting away about school activities. Mark would pretend to listen, while secretly hungering for his own daughter and reliving the most obscene moments with his neighbor's daughter. Jack would boast about his prowess in basketball and football. And Sheila, the dutiful mother would happily fuss over them all as she served breakfast.

Marsha was chatting as usual today, but no one was really listening. Jack ate like a men out horse. The wild orgy he'd gone through the night before with his sultry, insatiable music teacher had left him with a sharp tingle in his balls and an enormous appetite. And for the first time in his life, he was watching his own mother and little sister with a new gleam in his eyes. Seeing his mother sexually, she was about as ripe and lush as the divorcee across the street. But she was actually more beautiful in a striking way, with the sensuous curves of her full tits and ass holding even greater promise. With a shock, Jack realized he was getting a hot erection just watching his stunning mother move around the kitchen. He couldn't resist wondering if his mother's sultry mouth and luscious ass-cheeks gave his father half the satisfaction the statuesque music teacher had given him last night.

As for his little sister, well Marsha had a long way to go before she could be classified a woman. But she wasn't exactly a dog either, not with her pert, tits and cutely rounded ass.

For the first time, Jack wondered if his little sister was still a cherry. Well, hell, he reminded himself, there was only one sure way to find out.

At the very same moment, Jack's father was wondering precisely the same thing about his daughter. Damn, but little blonde Julie had been a wildcat in bed yesterday, her tight hot pussy all honey and fire. A massive hard-on was beginning in his pants while he furtively watched his daughter and mechanically nibbled at his bacon and eggs.

But beneath Sheila Jensen's placid, motherly smile were the most bizarre and obscene thoughts of the entire family.

With long dark shimmering hair and a plump curvy figure, Sheila could still pass for thirty. But the look of motherly contentment on her striking face was strictly a put on this morning. She was lewdly thinking about what was going to happen this afternoon, while her husband was hard at work and her kids in school. The mere thought sent shivers of anticipation running up her spine, and sparked a hot tingle in her silken ass.

She'd taken great care to conceal the red punishing welts on her ass-cheeks from her husband. The whip marks on her back usually disappeared in a few hours, because her ripely curved ass always got the worst of the whip. And that, she realized with a blush of shame and excitement, was where she loved it most. Especially by a brute like Al, their next-door neighbor. Her pussy still hurt too, from the latest brutal, relentless rape, but even that pain felt pleasurable.

The classic, middle-class All-American family continued to eat their breakfast, each consumed with their own strange thoughts. More than once, both Mark Jensen and his smiling wife glanced in an odd way at a small, crocheted sign on the kitchen wall. Love Thy Neighbor, it read.

In the seemingly peaceful, tree-lined block of Rockville a number of earnest citizens were trying to do just that. At one-thirty that afternoon, Sheila stripped to take a long hot bath. Because she watched her diet carefully, her luscious tits were still firm above a narrow waist, each tipped with a huge dusky nipple. She was still strikingly sexy, by anyone's standards.

As she soaped her velvety naked skin down in the bathtub, once again she wondered how the whole bizarre mess began. Their next-door neighbor was the complete opposite of her own husband. Mark was a gentleman, well-mannered, undeniably handsome in a distinguished way. He was a perfect husband and father, although a little stem at times.

Their next-door neighbor was a crude, violent tempered bear of a man, with a streak of cruelty that usually kept his family in a state of subdued terror.

And it all began just three weeks ago with a rape.

One afternoon when Sheila was alone in the house, he'd knocked on the door. All he wanted, he'd told her, was to talk to her about a forthcoming camping trip between their respective daughters. Sheila knew he'd been drinking, could smell it on his breath. But in Rockville, you were polite to your next-door neighbors. So she'd let him in the house.

There was something ugly, even revolting about this giant of a man with his huge shoulders and brawny arms. But after twenty years of being a faithful, contented housewife, there was something about him that excited Sheila too.

Maybe, she later realized, it was because he was the total opposite of her own husband. Maybe it was a lurking, desperate need for variety, just one time. Maybe it was the idea of being savagely forced, instead of seduced, the feeling of being reduced to utter humility and degradation.

Whatever it was, things were never the same after that.

After chatting with her for a few minutes, Al suddenly began tailing her what a strikingly sexy woman she was. He admired her tits and legs, he told her crudely, the provocative way she walked so that her beautiful big ass bounced, like an invitation. How could any one man like her husband satisfy a hunk of woman like herself?

In a trembling voice, Sheila ordered him to leave the house.

And then the rape began. First, he'd gotten her upstairs into Marsha's bedroom by claiming that his own daughter, Julie, had left a sleeping bag there. And in moments, he had her pinned easily down on the bed, prying her knees apart with one powerful knee, pinning her shoulders down with one thick arm. His hand ripped her dress up, then tore her panties aside as thought they were made of tissue paper.

Sheila was too paralyzed with horror to scream, or at least that was what she'd told herself later. She sobbed and whimpered for him to let her go, threatened to tell her husband, to run to the police later. And then his colossal hot prick was violently ramming inside her, like a burning poker. The pain was terrifying at first because his cock was much bigger and longer than her husband's.

And then slowly Sheila's struggles began to subside. To this moment, she couldn't be certain why. She wasn't enjoying the sex itself so much, but it was the feeling of utter helplessness, of being brutally ravaged. Her will turned to jelly, and the gradual realization dawned, as he fucked her tight pussy with savage drives, that she liked the feeling.

She was shocked, horrified and completely helpless by this animal. She was degraded beyond belief. And as her cunt began to ease up and her juices flow, she made little fucking movements of her own, feeling terribly and deliciously guilty.

In less than five minutes the housewife was responding with low animal moans of her own, thrashing her hips up to meet his massive pistoning meat, sinking her teeth obscenely into his shoulder. The placid, contented mother was suddenly excited in an eerie way she'd never known. And for fifteen solid minutes, he'd continued fucking her relentlessly, battering her now-eager pussy with violent strokes of his colossal hard dick.