Victoria Parker: How much for your daughter?

His finger made her feel so good. The slab of cock in her hand also felt good. Her heart pounded. She'd never had such an exciting experience.

"But…" she mumbled.

She looked down, watched the skin of his cock slide back and forth in her tight grip, watched the beet-red bulge of his pricktip.

"Oh, gosh," she gulped.

His finger fucked her unmercifully. He knew how to do it, too. He had an expert manly fuck-finger.

Frank kissed her. His lips on hers. His tongue slid into Amy's mouth, and his finger kept fucking.

She latched onto his cock like it was her lifeline.

One hand behind her now, on her slick ass, one hand between her legs, Frank had her. Amy was his. He knew it. She liked it. She was in ecstatic delight. He could tell.

He broke the kiss. She gulped and looked into his handsome face.

"I want you to kiss my cock," Frank whispered.

"Ooofff, jeez, kiss it?"

"Yes."

"No."

"Just kiss it, like I did your pussy, lick it!"

"Naw, I'm not gonna."

"Please, Amy!"

"No."

"Just kiss it, lick it a little."

"No, it's wrong. No!"

She let go of his cock. It slapped back at his belly and wobbled, then squished out, a hot shot of cream that splattered on her flat little belly.

"Ooooh, gee, come on now!" Amy cried. Frank had her pinned to the sink.

Amy tried to wiggle free.

She was frightened, but excited. "Please, Amy, kiss it, suck it!"

"Not with all that gooshy stuff cumm' out of it like that, Uncle Frank!"

Then Frank found her clit. He fingered it. Amy stiffened. She gulped. "Ah, ooohfff!" she yelped. She came.

She closed her eyes, threw her head back, her mouth open. Her body shuddered. Frank fingered her little clit with a sure stroke, kept her on the plane of pleasure for what seemed like an eternity to the young darling.

"Awwwwww, ohhhhh, sheeshhhh!" she babbled.

She shook with joy. Frank pulled his hand away from her cunt. She kept shuddering. He placed one hand on the back of her neck and pushed down. Her mouth was still open.

Amy bent over, cumming, cumming, fucking cumming, and her hot lips met Frank's hot prick. She kissed, licked, sucked on the tip as she continued to shake.

Frank was pleasured beyond words.

Amy was lost in the delight she felt.

Frank's cock squirted in her mouth. Amy felt the hot tears of cum hit her tongue, her throat, but she couldn't stop him.

Then Frank took her down. Amy was still cumming. He had her on the floor of the bathroom. She moaned, groaned, panted, gasped.

He mounted her, stuck his cock in her pussy.

"Ooooooh!" Amy sighed.

"I'm gonna fuck you," he whispered.

"No, no, no… don't do that!"

But his prick was in. He was bucking up and down.

Amy finished her cum, came back into the real world, realized that her Uncle Frank was on top of her, realized his massive thick cock was in her little pussy.

"Uncle Frank!" she shouted. "Don't!"

But he was in an up and down, up and down, up and down hump-fuck on her.

Amy's legs were wide. She let him ride her.

"We're fuckin', Amy!" Frank whispered, sliding a hand under her marvelous ass.

"It feels so goooooood!" Amy cried. Instinctively, she hooked her fine, trim, tanned legs around Frank's humping body.

"My cock's in your cunt, Amy."

"I know."

"My prick's in your pussy."

"I know."

"Want me to stop?"

"No."

"You like fuckin', Amy?"

"Yes!"

"Tell me?"

"I like fuckin', Uncle Frank!"

"You beautiful little sonofabitch, you darling little cunt!" he huffed, pumping harder, driving a full six inches of his cock into her pussy.

"Ahhhh, jeeeez!" she gasped.

"Tell me, Amy. Tell me to fuck you."

"Fuck me, Uncle Frank, fuck me!" He pumped harder, faster. Amy bumped up to him. She couldn't believe what was happening to her, but she loved the feeling that vibrated her lovely young body.

Then the sharp, shrill sound of the doorbell echoed through the house.

Frank pulled out. He was frightened. He didn't want to get caught fucking his young niece in the bathroom. He rolled off and got up.

Amy scampered to her room. She quickly dressed in her school uniform, the blue skirt, the pink sweater, and then she left through the kitchen, out the back door.

All the way to school she thought about how she had enjoyed what she and Frank had done in the bathroom.

"Golly, he was even fuckin' me on the floor," she whispered to herself, as she climbed the steps into the schoolhouse.

She knew Frank had to leave, that he'd be gone when she returned from school that day. She wondered if she'd ever complete the fucking that he'd started with her.

"Oh, shit," Amy whispered. She walked down the hall of Ryder High. "I'm so hot. I never thought I could be so hot about sex and stuff."

But she was. Her young, mind turned over and over the scene in the bathroom. She went to her first class, her pussy wet and juicy, very cummy in her panties.

She couldn't concentrate on the lecture, on the lesson. She just kept thinking of Frank's big prick, his finger-fucking, how good she had felt.

She sat so delightedly sedate in her school desk, her blue skirt a sexy swirl of pleats on her luscious tanned legs. Her popcorn-ball tits pushed out her tight pink sweater. She sat in the last desk in the first row.

And even though beautiful Amy looked as though she were taking notes, she was simply scribbling jottings, and her pussy was itching and gooshing the crotch of her pink panties.

The bell rang and she went to her English class. Since school had just started, it was Amy's first time with Mr. Lane. He wore tight jeans that were faded, clinging to his long, muscular legs, a blue button-down shirt, striped tie, and a brown tweed sports jacket. He had light-brown hair, wore shaded glasses, brown shoes, and he was handsome.

Amy took her seat, finding the last seat in the first row again, and sat down. How old is he? she thought. Must be about Uncle Frank's age.

Actually Mr. Lane was fifty, but he looked more like forty.

"We will start with Shakespeare in this literature class," he said. "And we will begin with Julius Caesar."

He handed out the play.

Amy watched his cat-like walk. His jeans bulged out at his crotch. When he came to her desk, she smelled the pungent aroma of his after-shave lotion.

She looked up at the handsome teacher. He smiled and it seemed to Amy that he simply drank her in. His eyes gazed hotly at her tits, her waist, her legs.

She smiled bashfully.

During Mr. Lane's lecture, Amy thought he was looking at her a lot, and she liked his attention. It was her first experience in a classroom where the teacher glanced at her so often, his eyes admiring and appreciative.

I think he likes me, she thought.

He indeed did like the darling lass.

Who wouldn't have liked Amy? She was such a young beauty, so luscious and curvy. Her face looked as though it had been sculptured to perfection. Her thick, young lips were pouty, pink.

The bell rang and she got up to leave.

Mr. Lane sat back in his chair behind the desk at the front of the classroom. He watched the students file out.

Amy passed his desk and he smiled at her. He returned the smile, and she trembled. After school, Amy went to the football field with the other girls trying out for cheerleader and went through the routines. She wore blue shorts, a white T-shirt, white tennis shoes.

She looked good, bending, dancing, swinging her hips. She wanted so much to be a cheerleader. Maybe it was because she had never had a father, but she wanted male attention, needed it, sometimes craved it.

When she returned home, she found a note from her mother that she would be late.