"Mm! Mm!" Ruth grunted. "Put him in, darling! Quick!"
Helen felt a curious churning in her belly. She writhed silently while her father pressed forward and the brutal cockhead buried itself in her mother's gulping cunt. "Oooh!" she moaned softly.
"Oh! Oh!" Ruth gasped. "Hard, Abe! HARD!"
Abe jammed his hips forward and the thick shaft plunged into her twat to the balls. His hairy belly bumped her ass and his fingers dug into the roundness of her hips. He hitched himself over her, his cock bending at the root, and raised his feet from the ground, hooking his insteps behind his wife's knees. She sagged for a moment, then stiffened her knees.
"Oh, God, darling!" she exclaimed hoarsely. "God, he's deep!"
Abe levered his knees, stroking his great prick in the mouth of his wife's pussy. She bounced, her knees flexing under his surges. Her tits flopped and her hair tumbled over her arms.
Animals! thought Helen with a happy thrill. They're like animals that belong here! Wonderful-awful animals that look like people! Her blood pounded too hard for her to get her breath. Her own young pussy pulsed at every blow of her father's cock in her mother's upturned cunt, and her boobs ached. She ground her thighs together, glorying in the sticky wetness that spread over them.
Abe bent forward, his belly molding itself to his wife's ass and his hands Dipping her waist. His butt jerked powerfully while his balls thumped against Ruth's pussy hair. Helen shivered and gulped at the contrast between her mother's finely tapered legs and the humping bulk they supported. She tried desperately to imagine herself in the same position, sagging under the same burden.
"Abe! Abe!" Ruth cried out. "Only one thing wrong with this way… my boobies ache and you can't hang onto them! Oh, darling, hard!"
"Unnnh!" Abe's lips drew back to reveal his clenched teeth. His butt-cheeks snapped together and his back straightened, throwing all his weight on his buried cock. He stopped thrusting and bore down with silent convulsions of his belly.
The couple trembled fiercely, Ruth's hips swaying in slow, grinding circles as she appeared to rotate her cunt on the base of the deep-thrust cock.
"Mmmm!" she shrieked. "Fuck fuck fuck! Baby baby!"
With a final, violent shudder, her straining body seemed to melt. She collapsed, Abe riding her to the ground, and the two huddled together, still joined and twitching.
Helen fought an impulse to groan. She groveled in the loose earth, flattening herself on her belly, her fist in her pussy, and ground her hips on the hard knuckles. She fought desperately with herself, her body trembling on the verge of orgasm while her will demanded self-restraint until she could get away by herself and act out the scene she'd witnessed. Fiber by fiber, her body yielded to her determination, her tension easing and the iron knot in her belly loosening. She squirmed backward through the low-hanging brush, terror rising when Ruth and Abe stirred, and relief making her weak when she was at last safely beyond their sight. She sprang to her feet and bounded between the trees, hot desire tearing at her.
With a sob of gratitude, she stumbled into a pocket in the woods Tony had shown her, where one could lie quietly and watch a family of squirrels argue over pine cones or a heedless rabbit forage. The spruce stood apart and a thicket of low firs trailed their boughs to the ground, shutting out the world. Going to the center of the tiny clearing, she set her feet far apart and drew herself erect. After a moment, she arched her back and stared at the narrow patch of sky, her hands clutching at her boobs, then passing over her belly with hard pressure and stopping at the tops of her thighs.
"Now!" she said softly. "Now, Helen Farrell!"
She unbuttoned her blouse, laying it open with her back still arched and her tits pointed defiantly towards the treetops. Extending her hands behind her, she let the blouse slide off her fingertips to the ground. She trembled in her effort to maintain her pose while unfastening her bra, then drew it off and dropped it, fingering her conical boobs and plucking at the quivering, hard little nipples. A great tingle surged over her, doubling her with its intensity, and she fumbled at her slacks, her hands clumsy on the button and too eager with the zipper. She thrust them off her hips and dropped panting to the earth while she struggled to draw them over her boots. The boots had to stay on, they would add a measure of sensuous contrast to what she meant to do. In a frenzy of haste, she tore away her panties, leaving until another time the problem of explaining their loss.
Again, she assumed her sky-worshipping stance, her small, red triangle of pussy hair darker than her mother's and not yet covering as much of her cunt, but thick and springy, nonetheless. Arched as she was, she drew her belly into a taut, convex surface. Her navel stretched into a groove and her pussy shook with the strain of her posture.
"Oooh!" She flung her arms up and back and let her head hang back, with her hair falling free. "Mmmm!" Without changing her body's alignment, she placed her hands on her pussy and pulled the wet lips apart. Her fingertips explored her slit, lingering at her cuntlips before slipping forward to the raw little lump that generated such incredible sensations of delight. Writhing and gasping, she played with her clitoris, whipping her excitement back to the peak she'd felt while watching her parents fuck.
"Yes!" she exclaimed. "Yes, it's now! Now!"
She dropped to all fours, knees stiff and palms resting on the cool earth, spreading her feet as widely as she could and imagining her father was mounting her. She sagged, pretending his weight pressed her down, then thrust one hand into her crotch to massage the gaping folds of her young snatch. For a time, she teased herself, sliding her fingertips in the wetness on her pussy and tracing rings around the rim of her cunt, but at last she yielded to her feverish hunger and started to rub her clitoris.
"Nnng! Aghhh!" Her hips jerked and her boobs bounced under her as her excitement rocketed. "Oh, yes! Oh, God, yes!"
Something touched her hips. She stiffened and fought against the scream that welled in her throat. Her glance darted past her legs to the moccasined feet of the guide, and waves of horror engulfed her.
"No! Oh, no!" she sobbed, too terrified to move. "Don't tell! Please don't tell!"
She tried to push herself to her feet, but Tony's hand rested on the small of her back, holding her where she was.
"Please!" she whimpered. "Please, Tony!"
He circled her waist with his fingers, then slid his hands to her hips, fingering her ass and stroking her thighs. The roughness of his palms was like needles of pure delight on her skin, and she surged under his caresses. He brushed one fingertip over her asshole. Her butt-cheeks clamped together, then spread at Tony's insistent massage. His thumbs settled on her pussy-lips, forcing them apart and making her cunt yawn. He poked one square-tipped finger at the eager little mouth and grunted with amusement when the rim puckered.
"Maybe you good fuck," he observed.
"Omigod, Tony! No! Yes! Oh, Tony!"
He uttered the grunt she'd come to know as his substitute for a sympathetic chuckle. Gently, he raised her, then took her in his arms and laid her on the earth.
Chapter 2
Tony's nose was narrow and sharp, and his eyes were close-set, glittering black beads that appeared to radiate condescension along with hunger as they leered at her. His cheeks were gaunt and pocked, his chin jutted crookedly, and thin lips drew back to reveal gaps between jagged, worn teeth.
Helen writhed. She knew she had reached the end of her virginity, and the knowledge brought fierce joy over a thick fabric of regret. In her fantasies, she'd pictured the event as involving some dashing, worldly type with flashing eyes and an eager grin, abandoning his castles out of wild desire for her. She'd dreamed of haunting music, softly glowing lights and velvet cushions. Instead, she had an unkempt old Indian taking a moment from a day with nothing urgent to do, visibly gratified at the diversion chance had thrown his way. The only music was a sighing somewhere high in the trees; the light was what filtered through close-growing needles, and her cushion was a springy mattress of leaf-mold.