Paula Cash - Closet Queen

He transferred a hand to her flat belly, enjoying the hard tension of her abdominal muscles locked against that powerful, sure invader that drove steadily upward into her vital, living parts. He'd violated more assholes than he ever admitted to the world and instantly knew that his daughter's was the finest. It was tight silken, supple. Her deep buttocks clenched and eased lusciously against his thighs. More than any part, they revealed her female helplessness against the dominating prick. He could even feel the jerk and quiver of the nerve net far inside her buttocks as she felt every inch of his hard cock opening her up.

"Ah, Dad. Oh, not goooood," she whispered.

She tried all she could to accept this sex, but the pain was fierce and her knees trembled in weakness at this harsh violation. Instead of easing and soothing her, he gripped her harder and, as she gave a muted scream, he fucked his cock tight and deep to its limit up her bowels. She felt the cock palpitating inside of her. It was as if he'd penetrated the very center of her being, pink, quivering and tender, and lay his whole personality and ego on top of her.

"Better-later-" he gasped. "No closeness-like this.”

Then he retracted and she thrilled with a sudden sexy rush. She had to lock her sphincter against that exciting downward sensation. That was a natural body function, to expel, and it was delightful.

He fucked into her again. It hurt, but not so much. Out again. Another rush of sexuality. He started a rhythm; her sphincter loosened and now the plunging cock felt only vaguely unpleasant on its inward trip and deliciously sexy on its outward pull.

"Ah, ah, it's better-weird-kind of sexy,” she gulped.

He lifted her off the bureau and to the floor with surprising strength. She was on her hands and knees, the cock driving into her ass in faster and faster action, bringing her thrills.

"Ah, uh," she went.

She realized that he had somehow got a hand on her clit, inside of her cunt, and now it was almost as good as a fuck, with her pink ass tissues heated and massaged by his driving cock. He was out of his mind with pleasure, gasping and cooing and fucking.

"Oh, what an ass. So tiiiight. Sexy,hot. Body-hot, deep in you fuck-fucking-taking your ass-all the way-“

"Fuck me. Fuck my ass harder!" she cried.

She tried to reach the glorious taken feeling of a master fuck. Instead her pleasure began to fall off. She sensed he had risen to orgasm. She realized her hot, slick hole had sensitized his cock and his belly to where he jerked and lost pace and moaned in extreme pleasure. He was about to seed her behind to his depth with a crazy, wonderful orgasm for him.

Not for her! She'd lose out. She wouldn't be able to cum. She imagined Abby in the same situation whining like a taken bitch and gushing with fury. She gave a sob. There was only one answer. Back to the security blanket she'd always used. As she felt her father glazed to bursting delight from the sweet friction of her asshole, she fantasized sucking Abby's cunt, soft female loins thrashing, velvet girl flesh quivering. She gave a moan of dismay-

"Aaahhh, God!" exulted John.

He clutched her. Immediately she felt his first gush of sperm, laid deep up her gut. Her own belly seemed to explode in her contrived fantasy and she wailed:

"I'm fuuuucked!'“

She began her throbs, locking and unlocking her sphincter on his prick as she came, sobbing out her pleasure even as something inside of her fell away in disappointment. He held her tightly and made her take his relieving spurts over and over as he grunted, gasped and muttered in joy. She faded under him, sliding to the floor under his weight, her ass fully taken but her hang-up back in swaggering power over her. As she wept softly, John thought it was her-relief from the tension of this most important sex encounter in their relationship.

"I can train your behind," he whispered to the sobbing girl. "In a few weeks, it'll feel as good as a fuck, and not hurt much, either. Oh, we'll have luscious times… ”

"Back to Brighton?" asked Cheryl in astonishment. It was Monday morning and John had gone to work while the two girls enjoyed a lazy, late breakfast. Cheryl felt bleak. Her rear end ached this morning from last night's exercise. It was a cinch she didn't have an ass leech. It would be a week before she wanted any more prick back there, no matter how much she loved a man.

"Back to Brighton," said Abby. "Why not? We can catch a noon plane.and be at the Delt house for dinner tonight.”

“Abby, Dad and I are going to move to Paris.”

“Cheryl, dear, don't you know that incest is flash in the pan when other sex is available? A rush, like a roller coaster ride-then poof! All over. A few weeks, a couple of months, that's it. My psychology book says that it's the easiest neurosis to cure. Everybody dwells on how bad it is. Nobody dwells on how hard it is to keep going once the bloom's off the rose.”

“Well, I-I-”

"You think about it. I want to call your father. I'll bet three to one that he's already sorry he promised Paris and all that. You both had your kicks-now back to real life.”

"You're a shallow, stupid person, Abby!" cried Cheryl. "You're also bossy, telling everybody what to do. You suck!" She burst into tears and rushed from the room. Abby Windsor was surely a sex degenerate who moved through the heaviest romance without a smidgen of feeling…

But Cheryl was packed by noon…

On the plane ride back, Abby dozed contentedly beside her blonde partner and surveyed the past with satisfaction. Cheryl and John Wallace were really in a stuck position. First they couldn't ease their sex desires by action, and when they did they couldn't move on. All they needed was a little shove in the right direction.

"You may be right, Abby," John had told her on the phone. "I can't keep up with a hot-blooded young woman at my age. Every time things happened between us I was too worn out to enjoy life for several days. Maybe Cheryl and I should postpone Paris for a while,”

"I'd recommend it.”

"Let me talk to Cheryl.”

Father and daughter talked, and there were a few tears and endless promises, but Abby knew her trip to New York had been wise. Except there'd been no sex for her.

On Tuesday night after dinner Spider Strawn drew aside his roommate, Tom Talbot and the freshman, Harold Lissac. They were at the Sig house.

"Okay, you guys. All semester you promised to jack off for me. Tonight has to be the night.”

They knew what he was after. At the beginning of the term, the Chem Lab had received some new equipment to be used in conjunction with the Biology Department in pre-medical studies. It was a new kit for analyzing the strength of male sperm. Spider needed to make the tests for a term paper he owed Professor Foster. Week after week they'd promised to jack off into a contraceptive rubber for him and week after week they just didn't get around to it. Once again, embarrassed, they promised to do it for him and hand it over tomorrow.

"Huh-uh," said Spider. "I've heard that promise too often. I got only two days left; it's past midterm. We do it tonight. We do it now, in our room.”

He herded them upstairs where he closed and locked the door and then tossed two rubbers out, one to each. Tom and Harold sat there stiff in embarrassment, far apart, each on a different bed.

"What's wrong with you guys?" asked Spider. “In high school you must've gone to jackoff parties where a bunch of guys did it to see how far they could toss. Every kid in America has done that in high school. I did it in junior high.”

"Oh, sure, but that's kid stuff," protested Tom. "We're older now, and it lacks class,”

"Especially if we do it here," said Harold. "I couldn't stand to be watched. If I could go to my room.”