Uncnown - The Widow_s Companion

"Sodomizing her, darling," said Dominique, pressing her hand warmly again. "That's a form of sex – probably the most satisfying there is."

Ellen's eyes screwed up. How did they get to talking about sex all of a sudden? Even though the Carters spoke with easy authority, she had the subtle feeling that something was not quite right in their conversation. And as for this sodomizing business, if that was the best sex, how come she hadn't heard anything about it? Her mother certainly hadn't said anything about it.

But anyway that scene was quickly over and then her embarrassed confusion subsided again. Everything returned to normal. The warmish feeling in her loins gradually pulled back like a receding wave from a tropical shore.

There was in the remainder of the film some really grisly violence of fairly standard American variety, but none of it especially disturbed her. Then she looked at the lovely platinum watch the Carters had given her and exclaimed about the time. She had promised her mother that she would be home early. She said a hurried but pleasant good night to the Carters and then rushed off into the darkness of the evening.

"That little cunt has cost us a fortune," said Maxwell when she had gone, his voice thick with disgust as he scratched Handsome's ears.

"I'll say," agreed Dominique, putting out her cigarette in the nearest ashtray. Then she began undoing the belt on her robe until it opened fully, revealing the sumptuous pears of her high, widely-spaced breasts, the molten white belly beneath with its soft nest of auburn pussy hair, and the long slender columns of her legs. She lay back on the couch and spread her legs open lazily. The big German shepherd didn't need any further cue than that. He left his master and hurried across the carpet to burrow his nose into his mistress' warmly scented pussy. Dominique sighed and ran her fingers over the handsome dog's sleek furry head. In another moment the well-trained show dog's tongue had lanced out and speared into the quivering pink flesh of her cuntal lips, sending a surge of fire burning through her loins and upward into the rest of her wantonly excited body right to the very ends of her hair.

"Spent a fortune on that fucking tail," Maxwell muttered unhappily again, his voice slurring this time. He finished a spare drink on the coffee table, then got up and went over to the bamboo-and-leopard skin bar to mix himself another.

Dominique's eyes turned dreamy as the big German shepherd's thick red tongue began twisting in and out of her cunt like a corkscrew. "Maybe we should use our more extreme procedure, lover," she croaked huskily, her eyes fluttering with passion.

"We don't dare," said Maxwell, corking a bottle and shaking his head.

"She's only thirteen years old. Any seduction has to be of her own accord. She has to come to us with her eyes wide open. She has to seduce herself. Any other course would be strictly suicide."

"In that case, it's time to leave it with Handsome, lover."

"Probably." Maxwell Carter looked over at the powerful dog whose tongue was dredging his wife's wetly surging vagina like a steam shovel excavating Roman finds. Handsome was always the court of last resort; and he had never failed them yet.

Still, though, this was a tricky one. A thirteen year old gorgeous blonde of total innocence. A real challenge! He couldn't remember when before they had encountered such striking blonde wholesomeness. He wanted to see her long, satiny blonde hair cascading over a pillow to form a cushion for her pretty head as he moved upward through her widespread thighs with his warmly throbbing cock working slowly through the moist tendrils and wetly sucking lips of her young virginal cunt, fucking the shit out of the sweet little bitch; he coughed at the thought.

Ellen Winthrop had the body of a lush young Venus, and it had been all Maxwell could do to control his hands in the months they had known her.

Fortunately his head had ruled his heart. Finesse always proved the most potent master in the end; and it was lasting. Rape seductions occasionally worked out, but there was always the danger that they might not. Particularly with one so young, where the aspect of painful entrance might assume sizable proportions.

He closed his eyes, considering her lushly ripened breasts whose rosetipped nipples appeared so prominent even through her brassiere and sweater combined. The child had a slender, girlish waist, luscious round hips, a flat, smooth stomach and long, full-swelling thighs. Her breathtakingly curved calves tapered down into thin, well-formed ankles. And over all of that, her wealth of shining blonde hair. Just one reel of her being taken from behind by Handsome could make a fortune for them. And if that fiercely kissable, sultry young mouth could ever be coaxed into wrapping itself around the dog's enormous pulsating red cock -! Ellen had an almost classical, dainty Greek nose, with a lower lip that protruded in an almost perpetual littlegirl pout, a round dimpled chin, and a soft, slightly tanned ivory complexion. To see that pretty young face energetically sucking on Handsome's throbbing, richly-veined penis would be a treat no reasonable buyer could refuse. They had to get her at all cost!

Downing his drink swiftly, he went to the secret panel on the wall of the library, where he pressed a button and a hidden videotape camera came sliding into view from one corner of the ceiling. It hissed and clicked as it focused on Handsome's lavish oral attention he was giving to his lovely auburn-haired mistress Dominique, who was already hurtling through her first orgasm of the evening with a gurgling cry of delight that made the heavy drapes on the high windows of the library seem to tremble.

Three houses down on Kenwood Lane from the Carters, the cute teenager had already dozed pleasantly off on the two-seater sofa in her bedroom, her long legs curled up underneath her. She had meant to take a nice hot bath before retiring, but she had gotten so caught up in her third re-reading of Jane Austen's Wuthering Heights – which she thought was the most romantic novel ever written, next to Little Women, that she had quite dozed off. This was not so uncommon; she frequently fell asleep reading some nice romantic story, though usually only in bed.

But now she had suddenly bolted upright to a sitting position. She had been awakened by a noise from down the hall. It sounded like the muffled squeal of some animal being put to slaughter. At first she had heard it as merely a part of her dream, but when it had come again, more forcefully, it had jarred her into alertness.

Something was wrong in her mother's room, she was sure of it. Other muffled sounds were echoing through the thick wall also. Sounds that were not familiar to her, but which seemed to be cries of terror and pleading. She looked at her watch. It was still early. She had probably not been asleep very long, even though it had seemed so.

She got up groggily from the sofa and drifted over to the bed, trying to analyze the nature of what she was hearing. She didn't want to make a fool of herself if nothing was wrong. Perhaps her mother merely had the television on too loud. Or it could be that she had gone to sleep early and was having a nightmare herself.

There was silence then for a long moment, and then another sound, this time of movement. It sounded as though something were being thrown bodily onto a squeaking bed. She could not be certain, of course. Her mother's bedroom was separated from her own by the main bathroom.

Not switching on the lamp, she made her way through the darkness to the door, pressing her ear tightly against it in order to listen better.

There was the unmistakable sound of a heavy, dragging movement somewhere. She thought also she could hear whimpering but it was impossible to tell for sure.