Mark Carver - Daughter turn on

Personally, she preferred older men like Mr. Jenkins, because he at least had brains and his own business, but a girl had to keep her pussy happy, too. And since it took her date almost an hour to get his rocks off, Sally's endlessly throbbing pussy would sleep happily tonight. Along with her sultry, tingling mouth, and her hotly glowing asshole.

They dressed, while Jenkins explained her job to her. She would rotate positions from the box office to the candy counter to the theater itself, until she learned all three routines. No smoking in the auditorium itself, although the kids smoked grass during the movie, regardless. If they didn't put their joints out, threaten to call the police, which they never did, short of a riot. No excessive howling, feet-stomping, beer-drinking or throwing popcorn boxes at the screen would be tolerated.

Jenkins gave Sally a thick stack of free tickets to pass out to her friends, and her eyes lit up with childish glee.

He was astonished that the angel-faced teenager could suck and fuck like a swinger twice her age, with far more wanton passion, and still delight in such childish things as free movie passes. But, he realized with awe, she was a child except when it came to sex. And even in her spasms of raw lust, there was something movingly childish in her frenzied enthusiasm, her girlish but still obscene joy.

"About Cindy," he stammered when Sally was ready to leave.

"Oh I'll take care of that," Sally said bluntly, with a lewd grin. "I know her well enough to call her up and ask her out for a milkshake, to gossip about boys. I mean, Mr. Jenkins, Cindy knows about my reputation, but she's not a snotty bitch about it! I think she envies me a little," she added with a giggle.

Still Jenkins hesitated. How would she go about it if she'd never made it with a girl?

Sally replied to that one with a look of pure disdain in her shining green eyes.

"Well, Jeez, Mr. Jenkins, I'm not a dummy! I know what makes a girl hot, you know. I'll turn Cindy on, don't you worry about that! And then, when we're really tight together, I'll talk to her about you, I mean, I'll fix it so we can all three party together. Okay?"

Jenkins stared at the adolescent with a sort of dazed respect. Her confidence was downright amazing. And she didn't see the slightest thing wrong about any of it, making it with a girl for the first time, then turning the girl on to her own father so all three of them could swing!

"You're a hell of a girl, you know that, Sally?" he said, caressing her plump ass through her jeans.

Sally grinned impishly at him, rubbing her palm over his crotch. "I get around, Mr. Jenkins," she quipped, and then was out of his office, her ass bouncing merrily through the lobby.

Jenkins closed his office door and sank into his desk chair, lighting a cigarette. There was a hot glow in his loins, a feeling of profound satisfaction he hadn't had in years, in spite of all the eager pussy he'd gotten on the side.

There was simply no substitute for a teenage nympho. Unless it was his own teenage daughter, he added silently.

He wasn't at all concerned that Sally would babble it around. She was much, much sharper than he'd originally thought. She looked dumb, but she was cunning almost beyond belief. It was as if the frantic little mink had read his mind about Cindy!

For a very brief instant, Jenkins felt a sharp twinge of guilt. Shit, here he had a lovely, faithful wife, a healthy, handsome son and a ravishingly beautiful young daughter, who was still a virgin, and what was he doing while they pursued their clean-cut, trusting paths through life?

He was fucking a young girl in her ripe mouth, wild little pussy and deliciously tight asshole. On top of which, he was trying to get the girl to seduce his own daughter so all three of them could have an orgy!

But any guilt Jenkins felt was quickly washed away beneath a flood of feverish anticipation over Cindy and Sally.

Like most men, Jenkins lived with a number of assumptions which he took blandly for granted: that his sexy wife was faithful, his lovely daughter was still a virgin, and that his son was a wholesome chip off the old block, a macho stud like his dad, but still a nice, healthy kid.

Such assumptions could be very treacherous, as the theater owner would soon discover to his shocked dismay.

His wife just happened to be having torrid affair with a sultry nurse and the nurse's hot-blooded boyfriend. His lovely daughter was no longer a cherry, because she was, on this very night, in the process of losing it to the wholesome chip off the old block-his own son.

When the lid finally ripped off the whole shattering series of obscene events, none of them would ever be the same.

Especially his darling daughter…

It was generally conceded by everyone in town that Cindy Jenkins was a beautiful girl. Not outrageously sexy, like Sally, but with a classic figure that would someday blossom into a knockout of the pin-up variety. Slender, but with proud, lush tits, a narrow waist, a magnificently curved ass, long tapered legs, and a face that was so wholesome and pure it belonged in a church.

But Cindy's inner thoughts were not quite suitable for a church. For one thing, her natural, healthy passion was coming rapidly to the surface as her luscious body began to develop.

Glands had a way of being very earthy instead of spiritual.

For another, Cindy was sharply aware that her own brother had been eyeing her openly the past few months. And the immense bulge in his tight Levi's was embarrassingly obvious. Don had a very macho reputation with girls at the age of twenty-two and, like his father, he was ruggedly handsome. Cindy knew for a fact that he was fucking at least three eager girls steadily, and the knowledge both disturbed her deeply and excited her. It even made her jealous.

Finally, the thing that irked Cindy most of all was a sharp, nagging curiosity about sex. She'd gotten all the standard warnings about pregnancy and venereal disease, and she'd known at the age of eight that babies weren't delivered by United Parcel, and she even knew a great deal, technically, about fucking, mainly from books.

But that didn't do a Goddamn thing for her hungry pussy.

Cindy had begun masturbating just six months before to relieve that intense, soaring ache in her virgin slit. A great many boys asked her for dates but she flatly turned most of them down.

Boys bored the hell out of her.

If Cindy were asked to pick out an ideal man she would have unhesitatingly chosen her own rugged father, along with a great many other girls her age. In her psychology class at school, she found out that was a normal phase of her development.

Because society imposed certain taboos on having sex with your own father, and also because the young girl had no way of know her father had his wild erotic fantasies about her, Cindy's roving eyes fell upon the next best thing.

Her brother, Don.

Not only did Don look like their father, a younger, more macho version, but Cindy had secretly adored him since she could remember. This too was perfectly normal, she'd discovered in psychology class. Big brothers were protective and smart and cool father-substitutes.

It was strange how psychology class seemed to teach everything but how to lose your hot cherry to someone who really turned you on. Like your father or your brother.

And no matter how hot and restless Cindy got, no matter how feverishly her pussy throbbed and ached each night as she anxiously lay awake in her bed, finger-fucking herself in desperation, boys still bored the hell out of her.

They were stupid, clumsy oafs compared to her suave father and cool brother. She felt a closeness, a warmth with both of them she'd never felt with those awkward assholes who dated her and tried to squeeze her tits and thighs.