Chapter 2

Cape Cod was nice in the spring, but as he walked, Roger Johnston was only partially aware of the green trees on his street, the sounds of the many birds, and the seagull coasting overhead. The spring was well along now, and throughout it Roger had been -- to his credit -- more aware of the spring than of the fact that he owned a Rolls Royce, yet this awareness was crushed by his brief look at his young adolescent daughter Ellen's body. He had not looked through the hole in the wall again -- though he had not patched it up, either.

Still a block distance from the neighborhood grocery, Roger was intrigued to see Ellen emerge onto the porch of the Green house along with her boy friend, Mark Green. They were holding hands as they walked down the steps, then Mark seemed to look around them to see if they were observed, not noticing Roger in the distance, and they went toward the Green garage. The garage door opened, in went Ellen and young Mark, and the door silently closed.

Mark was only fourteen, a tall thin boy, slightly awkward and shy, and Ellen was only thirteen. Yet Roger had just seen them with his own eyes go into the garage and he was genuinely shocked because Ellen was not even allowed to date. She called Mark her boy friend, but that only meant they went to one another's houses and to the beach, under parental supervision. Parental supervision! There seemed to be little of that at the Green house! But that's just what he himself would supply, and he would supply it right now. First, however he had to make sure his suspicions were correct.

Roger scanned the quiet, empty street to see if he was being observed, then walked to the side of the garage until he was totally hidden by a row of bushes and the garage wall. There was a small window, and he cautiously raised his eyes to it until he could see inside to where Ellen and Mark, in profile, were sitting next to each other on a pile of boards about four feet away from the window. Mark was saying something to Ellen and she was only smiling in return, although her long blonde hair tumbled onto his shoulder. Perhaps this was not so bad after all; it seemed innocent enough.

Roger was preparing to leave when he saw Mark suddenly push his hand up and clumsily grope at one of Ellen's ripening young breasts.

He saw it! His daughter being pawed! And by that conniving young snipe, Mark Green, who had eaten with them many times, who he'd driven to the beach, who he'd sat up evenings playing checkers with -- who in short, he'd trusted. Roger would walk in right now and paste Mark in the nose -- but no, Mark was too young. Better to simply break the two of them up, and then to later vent his rage verbally on Mark's father, Jason Green, the car salesman, who Roger couldn't stand anyway. He was about to take this course, when taking a last glance in the window, he noticed his daughter's reaction and it held him spellbound.

Her lips were parted in passion, and she was gyrating her softly mounded breasts beneath the young boy's exploring hands.

Then she reached up and, without further ado, began to unbutton her blouse as Mark watched with greedy, bulging eyes the wide cleavage of her young budding breasts come into tantalizing view. Then Ellen shrugged her blouse to the ground and it was clear that she -- innocent Ellen! -- had worn no brassiere. Had she planned for this outing? Her softly swelling young breasts stared out into the garage in quivering, self-conscious nakedness.

Roger was shocked beyond words, yet his attention was fully captivated by the salacious sight of his daughter's taut little breasts, one of them being gently cupped and massaged by Mark as he fastened his eyes on the other one and Ellen threw back her head. Her nipples were cherry pink, small and nicely shaped, and protruding straight out. She took Mark's free hand and forced it onto the other naked breast and now Mark was kneading the pliant dough of both shamelessly naked mounds, forcing them together, then flattening them, squashing them, squeezing them, and churning the sensitive nipple-buds into pebble-hard passion. Ellen dug her fingers into her boy friend's hair, and forced his head down until his mouth found one excitedly throbbing little nipple.

Ellen had done that -- Roger vaguely noted in his mind -- not Mark, but Ellen; and -- holy Jesus -- Roger could not believe what his thirteen-year-old daughter was doing now. She was dropping her hand slowly downward on Mark's trembling young body, rubbing and pressing against his chest, playing with her fingers between the buttons in his shirt, then running her hand down farther and with no formalities unzipping his fly in a single lewd motion, sticking her hand in, and greedily pulling out his youthful penis. In her hand the young boy's teenage cock was still half-soft, but, as she looked at it with obscene fascination and experimented, running her fingers over the smooth rubbery head, then clamping her hand around and beginning to softly massage it up and down -- it grew ever large and harder. She was staring at it, as wide-eyed as Mark -- who had one softly fleshed breast covered with red marks from his pawing fingers and the other totally wet from his mouth -- was staring at her passionately heaving breasts. What her father didn't know was that she was staring so wantonly because she had never seen or touched one before and it fascinated her, this peculiar hard, rubbery device that she now controlled in her massaging hands but which she well knew was capable of penetrating, of subduing her virginal body.

And outside the garage, Ellen's spying father watched the whole lewd spectacle from the window, beyond all thoughts of breaking it up, now, for his own guilt came into play -- he was complicit in what was going on here, he was watching and moreover he was enjoying watching. Yet his parental feelings were nevertheless bruised when he saw Mark -- on his own and no longer needing prodding from his girl friend -- began to run his hand searchingly downward over Ellen's innocent body. His groping hand reached her bared knee, and Ellen froze momentarily at the unexpected contact crawling insect-like over her naked sensitive flesh.

The aroused teenager, unsure, rubbed her knee for a full minute as though that were his only interest, then his massaging fingers slowly crept an inch higher. He continued rubbing, stroking, raising his hand almost unnoticeably farther up her tapered young leg until he was sneakily pushing the hem of her short dress. Soon enough his relentlessly moving hand was halfway up to the crotch band of her sheer panties and then it was all the way up and, trembling, reaching for the soft smooth mound enclosed so temptingly beneath the white nylon panties up between her legs. His fingers made tentative contact and Ellen jerked, but simultaneously she spread her shapely legs a tiny bit to give him better access. Mark understood and began to run his fingers hungrily over her warmly moistened pussy-slit, pushing, and discovering. Soon he was pressing gently up into her widespread little cunt, but still separated from her naked pussy by the thin white panties.

The excited young blonde squirmed away a little as her friend's middle finger began a gentle stroking motion, pushing the folds of her skimpy nylon panties into her suddenly throbbing vaginal crevice. She sat on the pile of boards with the boy's erect, blue-veined cock clasped in one hand, and her enticingly curved legs now widening more, relaxing somewhat to admit Mark's more-persistently probing hand.

With a lustful lurch, the hand probed suddenly beneath the tight elastic leg band of the panties, and Roger shuddered watching the outlines of the boy's searching fingers make contact with his young daughter's unviolated pussy up beneath the sheer white material. The fingers began to stroke, finding a slow teasing rhythm, pressing lewdly into her thin spread cuntal slit now, as Ellen herself -- head thrown back in lewd abandon and unaware of anyone -- began, to Roger's shock, to grind her hips experimentally, and her head began to toss.

Ellen had done this herself sometimes, but to have someone else fingering her excited pussy was a new experience, and her young round buttocks lifted up off the pile of boards, grinding back and forth to the obscene tempo of the fingers probing tantalizingly up into her pulsating opening.

Suddenly Mark pulled his hand away from her impassioned cunt and peeled down her flimsy panties as far as her knees, then returned his hand to stroking her hair-fringed furrow also running some extra explorations over her now nakedly accessible white buttocks. Ellen wiggled her long, dangling legs from the wood pile to shake the panties off the rest of the way, finally succeeding in kicking them forcefully to the ground. Her lewdly exposed pussy was in full view to her father now from the nearby window as the teenager stroked his extended middle finger up and down her parting blonde-fringed slit which was wet from the secretions seeping excitedly from Ellen's pouting pink cuntal lips. The finger slid up as far as the tiny pink bud of her erect little clitoris, and probed desirously down as far as the very opening to her virginal cunt.

Roger's precocious daughter now totally relaxed her full inner thighs to give the young boy greater access to her slippery cunt, and at the same time increased the lewd tempo which she so enthusiastically stroked and jerked his swelling cock in wide-eyed fascination. With each obscene stroke the youth's stimulated penis expanded into greater lust-inflamed hardness, just as Ellen gyrated her hips more, her naked white buttocks lifting well into the air now in wanton invitation as she helped Mark skewer his extended middle finger into her tightly resisting hymen, entering slightly into her narrow unstretched vagina. She seemed to like it even though it hurt, and she twisted her blonde-fringed cunt wantonly around his inserted finger. She stared shamelessly at the ever-enlarging cock against which her hand looked like a doll's. And then -- her own excitement seeming to egg her on -- she bent her head, her long blonde hair tumbling around the boyish cock, to get a closer look, her pussy still thrashing wildly all the while into Mark's cupping hand, which had the finger now permanently sunk up into her virginal vagina to the second knuckle, with tiny droplets of blood and her own eager cuntal secretions running down onto the skewering fingers.