Peter Jensen: The blackmailed mother book I

"Ohhhhh!" she cried. "I want you inside me! Now darling! Now!"

Lonnie twisted her husband's hair, pulling him violently over her. "Please, darling! Please!"

The strange obscenity of her passion-filled pleas excited Roger to a frenzied, blinding furor. He sensed his cock and testicles aching with blood-filled lust, and then suddenly grow flame-hot as one of his wife's hands closed like a steel trap over the thick, glistening penis. It pulsed wickedly against the palm of her hand as the slid up and down the hard flesh, and insane with lust, he didn't need further urging. He grabbed her jutting breasts and rolled on top of her, her legs wide and cradling his hips. The flowering lips of her cunt widened, and she guided his hardened cock to the wetness between her legs, her groans of desperate agony seething in his ear. She rubbed his swollen penis along her open pink slit and parted the soft, resilient pubic hair unto it was nestled teasingly in the entrance to her vagina.

Her husband clamped his fingers into the full cheeks of her buttocks and rammed his body downward. His swelling cock disappeared into her cuntal tunnel with a wet sucking sound.

Lonnie groaned. Her body tightened into an arch of hardened passion at the initial entry split the walls of her vagina. Then she writhed under the rising heat of her delirious sensations, her belly squirming. She raised up under the pressure of his fingers, the glistening prick sliding out until its coronal ridge caught at the straining lips of her cunt, then surged in again. Up and down, faster and faster… and Lonnie's face contorted with passion and her nostrils flared open as her breath burned her lungs.

Roger felt the smooth raw flesh of his passion-aroused wife's pussy clasp him tightly, pulse against his pumping shaft until his balls felt ready to explode, and he lost all track of time as the excruciating pleasure rocked through him. He drove deeper and deeper into her vagina with each thrust of his buttocks. His wife twisted her head from side to side, flaying her hair against the white pillow, and rode his cock like a bitch in heat. She drove her hips up, screwing every inch of his cock and routing the huge head around in her seething belly, causing Roger to gasp and quiver. A fierce storm whirlwinded through him as his penis sucked deep in her pussy and battered her cervix. He felt the eruption of his boiling sperm starting deep in his groin, and knew he was about to come.

Lonnie sensed it, too. She could feel her husband's cock swelling and straining against the moist ribs of her fleshy vaginal walls. She begged: "Please… not yet. Not yet… wait for me, wait… please!" Her legs splayed wider and she bucked and writhed on the wildly squeaking mattress, her loins insatiable. "Now… harder…!"

Not even Lonnie, crazed with desire building for the last two weeks, or her husband, a rutting animal of pagan demands, would have been so wild and free if they'd known that less than four feet away, two small eyes were watching them with glittering, unbelieving intensity.

Jennifer Carmel opened her eyes with a start, blinking rapidly in the darkened bedroom. She had been awakened by the front door opening loudly, then the thunk of a couple of heavy things hitting the floor. At the time she didn't realize that what she had heard were the suitcases her daddy had carried into the bedroom. Jennifer strained her ears to catch any more sounds, but everything was silent, save for a muffled kind of talking coming from the direction of her parent's bedroom.

Daddy was home!

With a thrill, the young teenager jumped out of bed, landing lightly on the carpet in her bare feet. She was a lot like her mother, only in younger miniature. Her pert face had the same frame of coal-black hair hanging loosely, the same color in her lovely eyes, and the same up-thrust nose and full lips. Her father had given her a pale, almost iridescent quality to her skin and thinner arms and shoulders than her mother's, and a slightly higher cast to her cheekbones, which made her all the more sensual and provocative. Her breasts were smaller because they weren't quite as developed as he mother's, but they never would be as ripe or full; they were as if carved by a master ivory craftsman, small pointed cones which had peaks of black-berry-like nipples. Her buttocks were almost boyish, lithe and feline like some predatory cat's.

She was wearing her favorite nighty, a soft pink peignoir, Empire cut with a small red bow bunching the material under her breasts, acting as a sort of loose bra to jut them like display goods on a shelf. Not that she needed support for her breasts – they were firm and resilient like unripe peaches. The gown fell just below her thighs; it had once been a set with a pair of matching panties, but after Jennifer had discovered that wonderful playground between her legs, she made sure that the panties were conveniently lost.

Jennifer was a lot like her mother mentally and emotionally as well as physically.

She heard the shower go on then, and smiled to herself. Daddy was taking a shower; she couldn't go in the bedroom now. But she would in a little while, and run up and give him a big kiss. Maybe he'd be in his bathrobe and naked underneath and she'd accidentally brush against him and feel his thing against her leg. She liked doing that…

Not that she'd ever seen him naked. She hadn't seen any boy naked, except for the few little babies she'd changed while babysitting. All they had were little worms between their legs which wouldn't get hard no matter how much she diddled them. She'd heard that a man's thing… his penis! – was large and could get like stone. She'd been told that by her best girlfriend, Tamera Oliss.

Jennifer sat down on the edge of the bed and passed the time while her father was in tile shower by thinking briefly of Tamera. It was neat having her parents so close to Tam's parents; mothers bridge-club partners, their fathers working for the same company. Tam was a grade higher than she was, but that didn't stop the popular and vivacious girl from being friends – really good friends – with Jennifer. And Tamera was going steady with Vic Statler, the high-school's star half-back, a muscular, handsome boy which made all the girls swoon (including Jennifer), just as if he had stepped out of a movie magazine. How had Tamera ever latched onto such a boy?

Jennifer had an idea how: sex. Tam was, well, "experienced", Jennifer was sure, and probably from Vic… but what a way to go! Just thinking about those strong arms around her made her go all goose-pimply. Not that Jennifer had ever asked Tamera about it; that would be bad taste; but after that episode in the girl's shower room last April…

Jennifer had walked into the deserted locker room after staying late to practice volleyball. She'd undressed and walked into the showers, and there was Tamera! The older girl was sitting on the floor, her back to the tile, the spray of the shower beating down between her legs. And her hand was down there, rubbing as fast as it could. Tamera was moaning and her eyes were clenched; thinking she was in pain, Jennifer had rushed over and asked what she could do. Tamera had told her, after she'd gotten the innocent girl to lie down beside her and spread her own legs wide…

The thought of Tamera's cool fingers on her little pubic lips made Jennifer blush, and she averted her eyes from the image in her mirror. They didn't talk about such things in her sex and health class, but she knew instinctively that adults would disapprove. Tamera and she had gotten together a few times after that, to play with each other's pussy – and once Tam had persuaded Jennifer to let her be kissed there, but Jennifer had gotten scared after a couple of minutes and made Tam stop.

But Jennifer hadn't stopped wanting to feel those strange, scintillating feelings that she'd been introduced to in the shower room. She never let the boys who dated her do it to her… never! She was going to be married a virgin like her mother did, and anything past necking and fondling her breasts was strictly off limits. There were times after a drive-in movie or party when she'd cried out her frustrations in her pillow, for a boy she'd really liked at the time would have gotten her hotter than the hinges of hell. But after a few weeks the boy would no longer be important to her, and she would grow fond of another boy, and she had known that to give into one wouldn't be good. She wasn't ready to settle down, to truly fall in love.