Chapter 9

"Coming home" -- Roger turned the words over in his thoughts as he finally left the office at nine o'clock at night and drove down the long arrow-straight road, then turned onto his street. That's what he was doing, coming home, and the expression did have a certain attractive ring to it, he had always valued things connected with the home -- though he had allowed and even encouraged it all to go to pot recently.

The big dusty Rolls slowed as Roger approached his driveway; the car never made much noise, and when he coasted slowly it moved as silently as a ghost. The psychology teacher still at this minute lecturing Roger's wife Cynthia in her adult education course might have spoken of the conditioning factor of the short, twice-daily drives in the Rolls, of the quiet -- perhaps the unnatural quiet -- it offered for Roger's fears to expand all out of proportion and eat away at what remained of the fabric of his life.

Cynthia too -- if Roger had ever spoken with her -- might have pointed out that those drives were in some ways a little sterile and frightening, and that with a sensibility like Roger's the one thing he did not need more of was more quiet to let his thoughts fasten on problems, for he did not fasten effectively on his problems; and he already had an excess of quiet in his life.

The Rolls glided into the opening in the hedges which led to his garage, shut off the car and twisted in his seat to gather up some of the papers he had -- even at this hour -- brought home. He paused for a moment, wondering what to expect inside the house. Cynthia? That might be pressing his luck, she was usually gone to one fool course or another. The girls? Yes, that was reasonable to expect, at least for Ellen, for they were strict enough to insist she stay home most of the time. And what would Ellen be doing? Studying or watching TV or -- his heart dropped -- looking at that dirty film again.

He would, tomorrow, return the projector to his office; cutting off Ellen's source of the obscene films might not be possible, but cutting off the projector was. Only Roger's forgetfulness had allowed it to remain home as long as it had after he discovered its use that evening when Ellen had had the dog fuck Louise. Roger noticed the lights from the basement -- yes, his suspicions were probably right -- Ellen was probably looking at that film again, fingering herself or corrupting her older sister.

He entered the house and stood listening -- there was an exceptional silence even for his house. No noise whatever. The refrigerator clicked on -- ah, there was noise, and a clock ticking began to materialize from the silence; and, now that he really listened, there was noise coming from the basement.

Groans.

Quiet, purring, mewling groans of more than one person.

And that was not a sound projector.

Roger advanced to the basement stairway and descended stealthily, remaining outside the closed basement door. The groans were louder. He opened the door a crack.

The moment he arrived was just that when Ellen and Harold were having their climax.

Holy Jesus Christ! Naked and aroused Ellen with her buttocks humped lewdly over the arm of the couch, being speared by the lust- swollen cock of some boy much older than she was. Ah yes -- that was Harold Taylor, Louise's boy friend! And with his finger -- no, fingers -- up Ellen's narrow little anus too, both young naked bodies pumping and swirling excitedly up against each other as though fucking were going out of style. No -- he saw it, he knew what this was -- Harold's over flowing sperm flooded out around the base of his crazily orgasming cock as he heaved a final animal groan, yet the two insatiable adolescents kept pumping, and he continued absent mindedly to thrust his fingers into the blonde teenager's clutching rectum.

And that was not the whole scene -- Louise was also entirely naked and another participant, in a way, crouched on the floor within a few feet of the lewdly fucking couple. What was her part in this? her father wondered. She seemed desperately excited as she watched, her gaping eyes staring ever closer at Harold's deflating, cum-covered penis still pumping spasmodically at Ellen's nakedly uplifted buttocks. It was no wonder Louise was all worked up -- she'd been taught to like both Harold and Ellen, Roger realized, and both were now spread before her bulging eyes.

It was only then that Roger noticed the film.

And what a film!

On the screen, in full realistic color, was a voluptuously naked redhead on her hands and knees on a table, a boy's cock jammed into her distorted mouth, another boy's hands groping around her full swaying breasts, and a third boy's slippery white penis inserted deep up into her clinging vagina from behind. To say nothing of a man's middle finger stuck up into her helpless rectum, the man himself being sucked by another girl, and yet another girl presenting her youthful, quivering buttocks to the man's free hand, several fingers of which were being swallowed by her small hungry anus. Eight people! All locked lewdly together in various shocking ways!

The camera went around and around the group, concentrating on the central figure of the curvaceous redhead who was nakedly sprawled on the table.

The extent to which everyone was moving and pumping and slapping licentiously against each other was incredible. Roger had never seen such a depraved thing in his life, and never imagined it either. Ellen certainly had good films! he thought allowing himself to be captivated irresistibly for a minute, but then returned to his full consciousness of what was going on in the room, and his parental disapproval of it.

He would have run into the room right now and stopped the whole unbelievable proceeding, except two things happened in quick succession. First, the cocks in the film all discharged their hot loads of cum within the space of a minute from first to last and then withdrew, leaving the girls to continue gyrating enticingly for the camera's benefit until THE END appeared on the screen, centered over the whitely upraised buttocks of the violated redhead on the table, and the film came to an abrupt halt. Second, his daughter Louise -- who had watched the final sequence and then returned her eyes instantly to Ellen and her own traitorous boy friend Harold -- had both of her hands up between her wide-splayed tanned legs and was groaning wantonly, flailing her long shapely legs about in the air. Ellen and Harold had at long last stopped the after-play and were lying warmly in each other's arms on the couch kissing, totally absorbed in each other. Only her boy friend's cock was visible to the poor lust-crazed Louise, who was looking hungrily at it as she groaned louder and louder in helpless frustration.

She tumbled and rolled on the floor, her hands massaging up between her sleekly straining legs in an effort to satisfy her churning desire. Roger saw her stick several fingers into her cunt and thrust them rapidly up and down, and then Louise rolled over again, fingers still inserted, trying different lewd positions to satisfy herself. With the embracing couple on the couch totally wrapped up in each other and nearly unconscious to boot, Louise began to ignore them. As she rolled and squirmed about the room in her desperate passion, she came ever closer to the door. Finally she was squatting, her buttocks to the door, delicately manipulating her lust-inflamed clitoris with her outstretched middle finger as she groaned excitedly ever louder.

Roger's lust at seeing his older daughter in this nakedly aroused state overcame the shock of watching his younger daughter debased by Harold, and he lowered his jockey shorts and kicked them hurriedly away in a careless heap onto the basement stairs. He did not even bother to remove his shirt or shoes, but silently opened the door, stooped behind the crouching Louise, and put his hands on her heaving hips.

Louise was so near to sensual unconsciousness that she knew only that her frantic prayers were somehow -- mysteriously -- beginning to be answered.

She was dimly aware of the hands on her gyrating hips working their way so eagerly over her rounded buttocks to resume the lewd task she had begun on her own -- of massaging her pink, blood-inflated clitoris, of stroking heatedly in and out of the inflamed walls of her passion- drenched cunt. It was like an obscene dream. Perhaps it was all still part of the pornographic film -- the excited brunette was not sure.

Everything had faded into unreality except the hands exploring ever more lustfully around her kneeling body from behind. Now they had jumped hungrily up to cup her full firm breasts, to knead the hot trembling little nipples. It never even occurred to the naked teenager to turn and see who it was who was now placing something very warm and throbbing just at the point where the hair-lined outer lips of her pussy mound separated. Louise both knew and didn't know what it was she was feeling. If it really was a cock, then her prayers had been answered.

Roger had never before been so close to his naked seventeen-year- old daughter before. He had lusted after her maturely voluptuous body on the beach that time, when she had come to him and stooped over him in a provocative fashion, her ripely swaying breasts and her full delicious buttocks all-too-much-covered by her modest bathing suit, though he remembered the extent to which the ass-cheeks had peeked out below the tight elastic leg bands of the suit in back. Those ass-cheeks! -- and now he finally had them in his hands! Hard to believe, the way fate had thrown them unexpectedly into his possession.

He had lusted after his pretty daughter's naked body that time he had seen her and Ellen playing at being lesbians, and then he had witnessed the salacious spectacle of the dog fucking his long scarlet penis up between Louise's legs -- then he had seen her naked form, but at a distance, only at a distance. Now here it all was with the soft dark curls of her sparse pubic hair, her whitely rounded buttocks, her large melony breasts with their small erect nipples, swinging from side to side as Louise swayed her body in a rapturous response to Roger's hotly caressing hands. His brunette daughter's body was Roger's vision of sensual perfection -- and here it all was, all his, to do whatever he liked with! He guided Louise onto her elbows and knees and then touched his throbbing penis against the small elastic circle of her vagina -- supplying the maddeningly pulsating sensation for which Louise was so conscious and so grateful.