David Crane - Door to door teaser

She gave a little gasp, then she ran out.

Jack scratched his head with his left hand. His right hand was still folded around the root of his prick, which had risen into a rampant tower once more.

He wondered why she had been so startled or shocked – or whatever the hell she had been.

Then he shrugged.

And since his dick was already in his hand, he began to pump it up and down and soon enough he blew a quick silvery wad of spunk in a loop from his cockhead.

He thought about Sarah when he came. He really did love her. If only he could understand her…

Jack could have understood well enough if he'd had the facts. Sarah's behavioral patterns stemmed from her childhood. She even knew what caused her to act as she did, but knowing did not enable her to conquer her inhibitions, for insight and knowledge are not battering rams with which to break down the walls erected by trauma and emotion.

Sarah would have liked to have been passionate. She often fantasized about fucking Jack in different settings, different positions. She thought about how nice it would be to take the initiative sometimes in their lovemaking. She dreamed about sucking his cock and sitting on his face and dressing up in black stockings and a garter belt for his titillation.

When he'd suggested that she suck him off, her mouth had actually started to water for his prick.

Her reactions, had, shocked her more than his words.

She wanted to… but she couldn't.

When Sarah had been fourteen years old, her father had brought his mistress home to live with them. The mistress, Wanda, was a redhead with huge tits and a soft red mouth from which a stream of coarse words constantly issued – the complete antithesis of Sarah's mother, who was slender and willowy and soft-spoken.

Sarah had been scandalized when Wanda appeared as a member of the household. Sarah's mother, however, had been philosophical and resigned in her calm, long-suffering fashion.

"How can you allow it, Mom?" Sarah had asked.

Her mother had sighed and mumbled something about Wanda providing something that Sarah's father needed.

Sarah was just beginning to awaken to the needs of her cunt, and she found herself fascinated by the brash, lewd redhead – repelled and intrigued at the same time.

She observed her carefully.

This wasn't hard because Wanda never gave a damn who was looking at her, or when.

One day, coming home from school, Sarah had discovered Wanda masturbating. The redhead was on the couch, her skirt pulled up above the waist, a bottle of Scotch in one hand and the other hand skillfully massaging her clitoris.

Sarah had stood in the doorway, dumbfounded. Her mother and father were out and she was alone in the house with Wanda. The moment Sarah realized what the redhead was doing, her pussy began to steam.

"Hey! Come on in and close the fucking door," Wanda had said. "Don't want to get a draft on my hot cunt."

Sarah had gone into the room.

She had watched, absolutely fascinated, while Wanda rubbed her cunt to a froth.

"Ummm, that's better," the redhead had said, after she had shivered through an orgasm. She took a slug of Scotch from the bottle. "That felt so good, I think I'll do it again."

She looked speculatively at Sarah.

"Unless maybe you'd like to do it for me?" he asked.

"Certainly not," Sarah had said, although the idea was not at all unpleasant, she realized to her surprise.

"Not that way, huh? Well don't just stand there gawking, for Chrissake. Sit down somewhere."

Sarah sat opposite Wanda, Wanda fingerfucked herself with obvious delight. Sarah watched and her pussy caught on fire and sure enough, she had to go to her own bedroom where, in privacy, she had masturbated with desperate urgency.

And while she was rubbing herself to a lather, she found herself wishing that she had had the nerve to lift her skirt and do it right there in the living room while Wanda was doing herself, the two of them jerking off and watching each other. The idea was so exciting that it electrified her.

And then, after she'd come, it had filled her with shame.

Wanda, however, was shameless.

And later that same week, Sarah had watched Wanda giving her father a blow job on the same couch.

Sarah hid around the corner, only, one big blue eye in sight, and observed in utter awe as the woman's soft red lips had slurped up and down on Sarah's father's thick, gnarled cock. His eyes were closed as he shifted his hips around, fucking into the woman's face. Wanda's eyes were open.

Sarah never knew if Wanda realized she was under observation, but it was a moot point – Wanda didn't give a damn.

Her father blew a thick gout of cum into Wanda's mouth and the voracious cocksucker purred like a cat at the bowl of cream and gulped it down with relish.

Sarah had had to rush to her room and massage her pussy with both hands, grinding out three wild and turbulent orgasms before she was cool enough to be mortified at what she'd seen.

Sarah was horrified by Wanda.

And yet, that beautiful, terrible thrill was there – undeniably there – a dark delight deep in her loins.

She wished that her father would kick Wanda out, yet she knew that she would miss the woman and the aura of depravity that clung to her.

Sarah, at that time, was still a virgin, still quite innocent.

In her innocence, she figured she had a weapon to use against Wanda in her mothers defense, the time that she discovered the lusty redhead having an orgy with three men she had picked up at the corner bar.

Sarah's father had been away on a business trip. Her mother had fled the house when Wanda came home, drunk, with three men in tow, but Sarah had stayed to get the goods on her, hiding in the shadows of the room adjacent and watching with keen interest while Wanda fucked the three fellows in turn, taking each of their pricks into her mouth and sucking it up nice and hard before letting them screw her.

When her father had gotten home, Sarah told him what Wanda had done in his absence, expecting him to be outraged.

He had chuckled and gotten a hard-on and summoned Wanda to his bedroom, where he demanded all the juicy details of the orgy while he banged merrily away at her twat.

Sarah was confused.

She knew full well that her father would have been hurt and scandalized if his wife, Sarah's mother, had cheated on him. And yet, he had been amused and very, very horny at finding out that his mistress had.

Sarah had begun to realize that there were more differences between wives and mistresses than met the eye.

She listened at the door, her eye at the keyhole, trying to find out what those differences were. Through the slot she saw her father sitting on the edge of the bed, the fuck finished but his dick still rampant. Wanda sat on the floor, his prick in her hand, rubbing the bloated knob against her cheek while she told him further details of the gang-bang.

"And the third fellow," she was saying, "his pecker was much bigger than yours."

That wasn't true, Sarah knew as she eyed her father's cock and recalled the cock of the third orgiast. But she realized that truth was not as vital as stimulation.

"I did so want to drink his cum," Wanda had said, rubbing the swollen cockhead under her chin. "But I wanted that big fat dong up my pussy, too. It was such a terribly hard decision for a girl to make." Sarah's father had grinned like a wolf and fed his pecker to Wanda's head and poured a load of hot jism down her throat.

He wasn't jealous at all.

Sarah was dismayed.

And, of course, so hot that she had to fuck herself to a frazzle with a fat sausage.

Then Wanda left.

Sarah never knew if her father had kicked her out or if Wanda had left of her own volition, nor did that seem to matter. That night, hoping to find some answers to the things that perplexed her, Sarah listened at her parents' bedroom door. She was becoming quite adept at such spying, but this time, she knew, it was all in a good cause.