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"You've still got it for Phil," said Flair.

Maddy frowned. She began to buck her belly real fast. "Do me! Do me!"

Flair laughed and began to suck her cunt. Maddy lifted up and groaned in pleasure, going hot and wet. Flair caressed her big breasts and Maddy got hotter. She was into it now, wanting the breathtaking surge of orgasm. Then Flair eased up and straddled her head so she could eat Flair's cunt. As Maddy dug her tongue, her mouth into the soft, wet chamber she thought of Phil, his strong body, his big, powerful prick-stick, loaded with liquid flames. Oh, Phil, Phil, she thought gobbling Flair's clit, making the big blonde moan. Flair meanwhile kneaded her own breasts with the swollen nipples and rose to peak.

They were both close to orgasm now. Maddy knew Flair's next move was to lie back down on Maddy's body while they stroked pelvises and cunts to glory, hugging.

Flair rose. "Here comes the new thrill," she warned. "Ready?"

"Whatever it is," said Maddy.

Flair spread her legs, her crotch over Maddy's high breasts. The stream of piss started slowly and then began to gush, golden liquid spraying on Maddy's tits, her cleavage.

Flair thrilled to ecstasy to release her urine stream on Maddy's lovely body. She could see, and hear, the bubbling stuff strike the silken flesh, spread, body-warm, on Maddy.

"Oh, my God!" Maddy's eyes went big, her whole being frozen in shock.

"T-told you it was new!" cried Flair.

Squatting she slowly worked down Maddy's body, decorating her with the streaming girl piss, feeling the thrill of her emptying bladder, letting everything go against all the wise rules of mankind. Down over the belly, the abdomen.

"Almost there!" gasped Flair, wild-eyed. The act of pissing just about made her come. Maddy's body was a blanket of urine now, golden and shiny. "Ahhhhh!"

The last squirts shot onto Maddy's dark pubic hair and cascaded down over her oil-wet cunt. Flair was empty. She stared down at Maddy with hotly gleaming eyes.

At first the body-hot stuff shocked Maddy to stillness. She felt the sting of the piss, smelled the smell. Suddenly she wanted the whole humiliating experience, to feel Flair's bladder completely emptied on her nudity. She gasped as if she'd dived into a pool. It was the ultimate outrage.

Flair gave a cry of delight, fell on top of Maddy's body and hugged her, the pee serving as a hot stimulant between their bodies. Flair's cunt rocked on Maddy's. Maddy surged up, crazed with the freak sex act for the moment. The girls clung together, wallowing in Flair's piss, rising in perverted ecstasy to orgasm. Then they both broke.

"Ahhhhh." Throb, throb, throb, went Flair.

Maddy's cunt expired with ecstatic squeezes as she reveled in the tight body lock and the unspeakable fluid that sealed them together. She worked off her spasms crying animal grunts. Then everything faded into the sweet afterglow of sex.

Then Flair rolled off of her and laid back, her face shocked, her big luscious body smeared with her own piss.

"Jesus, what have I done?" wailed Flair.

Maddy got up slowly, inevitably. "Ruined your father's bedclothes and maybe a mattress," she said. "Also you've reached the limit, Flair. Ended it, once and forever. We won't have sex again. The next stop would be the nuthouse."

She walked to the door, heading for the bathroom, her body smeared with urine, her thighs still wet with oil and more of Flair's piss.

"I'm going to marry your father," she said. "You'll marry George."

Lying there Flair knew Maddy was right. There was a point when wildness with sex got dangerous. Her flaunting of taboos was over.

A week later the two couples were married in a double ceremony, Flair to George, Maddy to Vic Singleton, thus completing a courtship that had begun over ten years ago. George was in seventh heaven; the girls mellow. When Maddy asked Flair who had torn up her wedding gown at Catalina, Flair confessed that she had, and everybody laughed. So much for ancient, knife-wielding passions!

There was no question about where to go for a honeymoon, or two of them. Niagara Falls was only twenty miles away. The two couples spent the afternoon ogling the majestic vistas of the two great falls, the American side with its famous separate Bridal Veil Falls and the much wider Canadian Horseshoe Falls. The guide told them the American side was 167 feet high and about 1,000 feet wide, while the bigger Canadian Horseshoe was 158 feet high and 2600 feet wide. He added that several people had actually gone over the falls in barrels and survived, while some had not.

"Right now there's another nut planning to go over. He wants to swim the rapids above, reach his barrel on Goat Island, between the two falls and then go over. Naturally the authorities will try to stop him, but if a man wants to commit suicide, it's pretty hard to prevent it. The guy may make it; he's some professional swimmer named Phil Griffin."

The two couples looked at each other. "Holy mud!" cried Maddy. "We ought to stop him!"

"I say let him go," grunted Vic. "At least he won't be screwing some poor guy's newlywed wife, making sex trouble for a change."

But they weren't going to be able to evade their old friend. He was in the dining room that night as they enjoyed a luxurious wedding feast and he came over to wish the couples well.

"I heard all about it on your radio station," he told Vic. "Lots of luck in your marriage."

A suspicious Vic grunted his thanks and offered a limp hand. Maddy thought she saw exquisite pain in the back of Phil's eyes. They discussed his crazy mission, trying to dissuade him, but he pointed out that he needed the publicity to get his water shows started again. He invited them to see him shove off. He planned to take off under cover of darkness, reach his barrel on the island and do this stunt in the morning. He had his own photographer hidden out, and this way he could evade the authorities.

Vic declined the invitation to see him off. "We have other business tonight," he said dryly with a possessive glance at his bride.

Phil saluted them and was gone, Maddy's eyes following him, looking worried.

Nine o'clock. The moment of glory for George Panther as he and the new Mrs. Flair Panther retired to their bedroom. She had a gorgeous black lace wedding nightie to set off her tanned good looks. George looked forward to a wild night of sex that would be the finest hour of his passion life. He was eons away from Atlantic City and his bit whores of 1926!

But Flair talked to her father on the phone and then excused herself, giving George a peck on the cheek.

"I've got to talk to Daddy for a moment. I'll be right back. I won't be gone more than five minutes." And she darted out of the room with her nightie absently clutched in her hand. George wasn't sure why that made him nervous.

"She's gone!" Vic exploded when his daughter reached his room.

"Gone where!"

He flung a note at her. "To save that young bastard's life."

Flair gasped. "We've got to catch them." She ran to the window and looked out at the wild expanse of trees and river, hearing the roar of the falls.

"I won't chase her!" said Vic. "I'm the husband. She has to come to me, want me."

"Daddy."

"No. If that little bitch wants to spend her wedding night with some young idiot on a boat on the Niagara River, so be it. I'll settle her later!"

Flair grinned, locked the door and spread out her nightie.

"I thought it was strange that you'd marry Maddy after all these years and that she'd go along." Flair started to undress while Vic looked at her with a horrified expression.

"You know who you really wanted to marry, at least sleep with," she teased him. She was out of her dress, taking off her bra.

"Flair, stop! I'm your father. What do you mean!"

She went on coolly. "I mean married to young Maddy no one would suspect you of fooling around elsewhere."