Harry Stevens - Daughter_s new, hot family

Buster used his hands on her tits. He squeezed them hard. It hurt so good, as she discovered the joy of sexual pain. The jagged buzz from her mauled tits went straight to her pussy, adding to the friction she was already getting between her legs from Buster's pistoning hard-on.

"More, more, more!" she begged.

Buster seized her nipples between his thumbs and fingers. He pinched and twisted her buds of tit-flesh around double.

"Oh, God, I'm cumming twice as hard now!" Kitty cried. "Don't know whether I'm gonna die from it, or it'll make me live forever! Feel like I'm in heaven and hell at the same time, and both of 'em are exactly where I wanna be."

"And I said you were like a whore," Buster said. "Jeez! How could I be so damned dumb? No whore ever liked it this much!"

"Then what am I?" Kitty asked, ready to get off on Buster's flattery, as much as she was from his cock fucking her cunt and his sweet torture on her tits.

"You're… a… like a…" Then Buster found the right words, and declared, "A wet dream come true!"

"You mean it? Really mean it?"

"Sure as I'm fucking you!!"

"Then say it again!"

"A wet dream come true! No lie! That's what you are!"

Kitty had a fresh climax just from his words alone. The brutal treatment of her tits and Buster's cock in her cunt took back over, and the rapid arrival of her next orgasm was the result of pain and pleasure.

"Ooooohhhh, stud… you stud!" she groaned. "Now I'm ready for you to cum, too. You getting there for me?"

"Been holding back already a helluva long time!" Buster reported. "Didn't wanna shoot it into you until you were ready!"

"Mmmm, you old sweetheart," Kitty moaned. "You fuck like an animal, but you're still a gentleman. The perfect combination."

"Then you want me to let it go?"

"Now, stud, now!" Kitty demanded, squeezing her cuntful of cock with all her spasming strength.

"Oh, baby, you've got it! Damn!" croaked Buster. "Got more jizz than I ever thought I could cum!"

His hilted cock gushed at the core of Kitty's cunt. It was the same as when he'd cum down her throat – a continuous flow, but even more jism, and hotter. There was no way a cunt could hold that much jizz. Kitty's pussy was starting to leak into the crack of her ass.

"Mmmm," she said, "your cum's making a mess out of me. Such a beautiful mess!"

As his cock unloaded in her pussy, Kitty reached down and smeared Buster's excess cream all over the wriggling checks of her ass. She smeared jism in her ass-crack to thrill her asshole with liquid heat. It made her cum again, making her wonder about her orgasmic response should she ever ass-fuck. As Buster's cock slowed to a creamy dribble in her swamped cunt, Kitty was considering whether she ought to try to get him to actually ass-fuck her next.

"Headquarters calling Officer Branch! Headquarters to Officer Branch!" the police radio suddenly squawked from the patrol car. Then, with a scratchy drawl, the dispatcher added, "Hey, Buster, stop jerking off out there and get your tail over to the pool hall! Got a complaint that those boys got too much beer in 'em and they're whipping each other upside their heads with their cue sticks again."

Lurching to his feet, Buster staggered to the car with his pants around his ankles and managed to answer. "Yeah… sure… I'm on my way!"

Knowing it was over, Kitty gathered her clothes and quickly dressed. By the time she was sitting beside Buster, his pants were back up and he'd just stuffed his sticky cock back into them.

He started to apologize for having his job to do, but Kitty made it easy for him. "Don't worry, I'll be around. You haven't seen the last of me!"

"Well, I'll drop you off now, then," Buster said. "Uncle John's place is right on the way to the pool room. And if I'm a couple of minutes late, those boys'll just beat the hell out of each other that much more and make it easier for me to haul 'em on down for another night in jail. No big deal. They've been there before and will be again."

Buster pulled onto the main road, reaching sixty miles per hour by the time he sped through the first intersection. As it turned out, Kitty's destination really wasn't that much on his way, and the radio kept squawking for him to take care of business.

"All right, Sarge, don't shit, I'm almost there!" he squawked back when he'd lurched to a stop in an exclusive neighborhood.

Then he cut off his end of the transmitter and pointed to the nearest house, the fanciest one on the block.

"This is it, baby," he said to Kitty. "Say hey to Uncle John for me. And I'm holding you to that promise not to forget ol' Buster!"

Kitty had no choice but to get out. The patrol car squealed away into the night, its siren blaring. Kitty found herself staring at Glenrock Street, wondering if her real father was truly its owner and what she ought to do about it.

Although Elsie had given Kitty some money from the cookie jar, Kitty was afraid to walk to the center of town and look for a place to stay. The chance that she might run into Buster again and have to explain herself with more lies was just too great. However, actually knocking on the door of Glenrock Street was an even scarier thought.

She stood there at wit's end in front of the house. Suddenly, Kitty was caught in the glare of a pair of headlights from a car that had just swung around the corner.

"B-Buster!" she moaned. "He's here again. What'll I do?"

If she took off like a thief in the night, she thought, Buster, being a cop, would surely chase her. So she decided to hold her ground and just pray that she didn't run out of lies.

However, when the driver braked to a stop, Kitty saw it wasn't a patrol car. A high-school aged boy leaned out the car window and blearily gave Kitty a once-over.

"Man, I gotta lay off the beer!" he said thickly. "Drank so much tonight that I'm starting to see things. Look at that chick, just standing there like she's waiting for me to lump her!"

Kitty could have easily fled into the night, but something made her stay. The moon had just bathed the boy's face in light, and there was something eerily familiar about him. It was as if Kitty had known him all her life, without ever having seen him before.

He also stared at her. He got out of his car, then warily approached the strange girl he'd found on the street.

"Hey," he said to her in a kind of hush, "maybe drinking so much damned beer's got me a little out of wack… but I could swear I know you from somewhere. Do I?"

"Maybe," Kitty answered. Then, motioning toward the house, she added, "You live here, don't you?"

"Yeah, I'm Andy Branch," he said. "And you?"

"I-I'm not sure just who I am!" she muttered.

Shaking his head, Andy Branch sighed. "Wow, now I really know I drank too much beer tonight. Come home and find a foxy chick waiting for me, and she doesn't even have a name. Like she just stepped out of a dream. No way this can actually be happening! Have to be freaking out!"

Kitty had the desperate idea that if she let him get away she'd be losing a part of herself. For what she recognized in his face and his last name added up to the striking possibility that Andy Branch was her brother!

"Help me!" she blurted out.

"H-how?" he stuttered, the urgency in her voice sobering him.

Kitty pleaded, "I need a place to stay. Can you… could you… do anything?"

Andy thought it over. Then, with the beer seeming to take over, his boyish face was creased by a lopsided grin.

"Sure, maybe I can give you a place to crash. My room's out in back, away from the rest of the house, so nobody's have to know," Andy said. "Just depends, that's all."

"Depends on what?" Kitty warily asked.

"On what's in it for me!" Andy smirked. "Know what I mean?"