Chapter 3

Out on the sidewalk, heading for home, Stacy slowed down to a jog. But after jogging for a couple of blocks she started walking, no longer in all that much of a hurry, even wondering if she should go back. She should've at least said goodbye to Betty. The uninhibited girl would understand why she'd taken off, though and she could always explain or apologize or some damn thing the next day at school.

It was a little over a half a mile to her home. It wasn't all that late, but it wouldn't've made any difference if it'd been in the early morning hours. Except for the lack of sleep, of course. She had her own key and could come and go just about as she pleased. She could handle her mother, drunk, drinking, or sober, and her father was always telling her to have all of the fun she could while she was young enough to enjoy things to the fullest.

She didn't think he would approve of the offbeat fun she'd enjoyed that evening, though! The peeking at the swappers had been great fun, too. That Betty! Fucking herself with a pony's cock! Pee-wee's cock was just about as big as a large horse's, though. But she wouldn't think about that! Hell, she might get nutty enough--or hot enough--to breeze out to the barn and do some experimenting with the five beautiful horses out there!

The big house was dark. Deciding that her parents were out someplace, as they never went to bed that early, Stacy thought about Betty's parents. They were a very attractive couple and the father was always smiling at her, flirting, really, and she wasn't surprised that they swapped. Betty's mother was something like Betty, a sexy-looking chick, and Betty was very broadminded to accept the truth about her parents without even telling them that she knew. She'd at least tell them how terrible she thought they were, Stacy thought... Not that her mother and father would do such a thing!

There was a combination cook and housekeeper, but she didn't sleep in. Stacy locked the front door behind her, then checked in the living room to make sure that her mother hadn't passed out on a couch--or on the carpet. Sometimes her father went out in the evening alone, but Stacy didn't bother to check the bedroom her parents used to see if they or her mother had gone to bed early.

She hurried upstairs to her room, closed and locked the door, and turned the light on. She couldn't remember the last time her mother or her father had been up to her room, as she had her own alarm clock, but she didn't want to take any chances on being caught doing what she just had to do.

Stacy pulled the shades down over the two windows. There weren't any dwellings close by, but there was always the chance that somebody could be spying with a pair of binoculars. She didn't like the idea that she might be watched, even if she had just engaged in and enjoyed voyeurism for the first time.

While stripping out of her clothes, Stacy decided that she wouldn't bother to get her collection of pictures. They were hidden under some clothes in a bureau drawer, and she'd spent many enjoyable hours looking at the vivid sex acts depicted in the brochures put out by various mail- order houses.

Her father was on many mailing lists, apparently, because he received many envelopes through the mail with "sexually oriented ad" printed on them. She'd seen him open such envelopes, then, after glancing at the contents, tear them into small pieces and toss them into the waste paper basket. She'd spent hours putting the brochures back together like a jigsaw puzzle until she'd decided that he wouldn't miss the majority of such erotic advertisements if she simply beat him to them. She let him receive enough so that he wouldn't get wise to what she was doing and she still got a kick out of going through the waste paper basket in his study.

Stacy had read where so-called authorities stated that females weren't supposed to get turned on by observing pictures and reading about sexual activities, and had decided that she was the exception that proved the rule. Because she enjoyed looking at and reading such erotic material even when she didn't follow through with a blissful masturbating session.

Going into the adjoining bathroom to answer a different call of nature as soon as she was naked, Stacy soon came out and paused before a full-length mirror. She didn't think that it was a true case of narcissism just because she kept checking on the development of her body. She'd been doing it since she'd been a small girl.

She certainly didn't hate her body, but she didn't really love it, either although, she did sometimes feel that certain parts of it were somehow detached from her real self, her mind, her brain. She was always getting what she was sure some people might think were crazy ideas, but she figured that basically she was just as rational as the average person.

She was a natural blonde. She had blue eyes and she'd heard many remarks about them and her features being beautiful. Her handsome father, for one, had told her that many times. She was tall and slender, her ass was full and firm, and her legs were long and shapely. Her tits were about medium-sized, round and firm, and riding high on her chest. All in all she was pleased with her appearance, naked or dressed, and she knew that it was her own fault that she was seldom asked for a date. She was cool and aloof around boys, outwardly, anyway, and that was because she was afraid she'd really go all-out if she allowed more than a few mild kisses.

Turning from the mirror, leaving the overhead light on, Stacy went over and stretched out on the bed on her back. She closed her eyes and began fondling her thrusting breasts. The nipples were small and pointed, much smaller than Betty's, and they were very sensitive because of the many times they'd been stimulated.

They became erect immediately and she rolled each hard, stiff spike between a thumb and forefinger. Delightful little sensations of pleasure rippled back and forth between them and her cunt, and she let the erotic scenes she'd witnessed that evening flash through her mind.

She started with Betty fucking the pony's long cock and worked backward. She remembered most of what Betty had said about the cousin, what they'd done, and again thought about Betty's father. Betty had actually seen her father's cock! About eight inches, she'd said. And Betty had seen it going in and out of a woman's cunt. Betty had seen her mother being fucked, too!

Stacy trailed her hands down along her slowly squirming body, parted her legs, and caressed her sleek inner thighs. The foursome action had really been wildly exciting. The men tonguing the women's cunts, the women sucking the men's cocks, the women going down on each other, the men fucking the women in their pussies and in their assholes--all had made the many pictures she'd seen pale in comparison. The fact that the four had been married swappers had made it all the more exciting--and still did. And to think that Betty's mother and father were in another part of that house sexing it up, swapping, sucking, fucking, maybe even involved in group sex!

Stacy moved the fingers of both hands higher, running the very ends of her fingers through the silky pubic hairs, squirming her ass against the mattress as she anticipated the thrilling pleasure soon to be hers. She gradually increased the contact of her fingers on the outer cuntal lips, parting the curly blonde hairs, then gently rubbing the inner lips, and just as gently playing with the entrance of her vagina itself.

She slowly massaged the inner lips and the entire area around her clitoris. That sensitive organ was erect, long since having left the hood that hid it in its quiescent state, and the stimulation by her fingers produced a friction between the hood and the clitoris that was totally arousing.

Again thinking of the way Betty had bounced and bucked on the end of the pony's stiff cock, Stacy slowly shoved the middle finger on her right hand deep into her palpitating pussy. She began finger-fucking herself, all of the scenes she'd observed seeming to blur together in her feverish mind, and the sexual stimulation produced a series of changes in almost every part of her body.

Her heart beat faster, her pulse quickened, her blood pressure rose, there was an increased flow of blood to her cunt. At the same time there was a heightening of nervous tension that affected her entire body. She moaned and tossed on the bed, flailing her legs, gasping, moving with the pronging finger, clamping down on the digit with her inner cunt muscles.

Stacy let out a little cry as an orgasm gripped her body. She tingled all over as wave after wave of blissful pleasure spread throughout her entire being. And she thought of the pony's sperm overflowing Betty's clinging cunt as she suddenly went limp and left her finger buried in her own twitching and juicy cunt.

Recovering within a couple of minutes, Stacy still wasn't satisfied. But she removed her finger from her succulent twat, swung from the bed, and went into the bathroom. She took a shower, gave herself a brisk rubdown, and brushed her teeth. Back in the bedroom, she sat at the dressing table and gave her long blonde hair the usual one hundred strokes with the hair brush.

She set the alarm clock, turned the light out, remained naked, and crawled under the top sheet on the bed. She turned over on her side and tried to make her mind go blank, the way she usually managed to go to sleep right away.

But the mental pictures of the many erotic sights she'd so recently observed wouldn't go away. She finally turned over on her back and began fondling her breasts. The nipples got stiff just as soon as she touched them. Knowing that she should get to sleep as soon as possible, she only stimulated the hard tips for a few seconds before sliding her hands on down to her quivering cunt.

She slipped a finger into the hot hole and slowly moved it in and out of the moist and clinging flesh. Again she thought of cocks and cunts and the jism that'd spurted out of the long hose cock. Soon she was moving wantonly, drifting out and away from herself--caring for nothing except what was about to happen, thrilling as it did happen again and again and again...

Stacy's father usually dropped her off at school on the way to his office. He was a stock broker, but he also owned a great deal of rental property. He was well liked by just about everybody, Stacy knew, and she had guilty feelings at times because she liked him so much.

She'd read where it wasn't unusual for a girl to have a kind of crush on her father, especially when very young, but she felt that at sixteen it was time that she got foolish--and wicked-- thoughts out of her mind. Not that her handsome father had ever given her any real reason for her to be attracted to him in a physical way.

They'd been buddies ever since she could remember, and she knew that he'd always wanted a son, but he didn't actually treat her like a boy. He was proud of her as a girl, and showed it in many ways, but he never put his hands on her or anything like that. He did compliment her on her figure quite often when they were swimming in the pool, but he'd never made any wise cracks during the years she'd been filling out and losing her baby fat.