Chapter 4

I didn't awaken till almost noon the following day. I hobbled down the stairs, my ankle tender and sore with just a slight swelling.

I felt terrible. My debauchery had reached a new low, an endless pit of perversion. I had committed the unforgivable sin, incest, sex with my own daughter!

But, even now, seeing the image of her, a picture sitting on an end table, I could feel the stirrings of unnatural lust. I revelled in my sickness... the extreme pleasure it brought me was... was absolutely exhilarating.

A note from Megan lay on the kitchen table. I ignored it for the moment, intent on having a pleasant cup of coffee before facing the realities of the day.

I wondered why I hadn't heard from Barb. I made a mental note to call her, maybe invite her over. I shivered at the thought of her hairy, luscious cunt.

I needed a shower badly. I still had all of my previous days odor clinging to me. Even though I found them intoxicating, I was sure the people at the supermarket would find them offensive.

Picking up the note, I headed upstairs to shower. In the bathroom I read the note:

"Mom... I talked to dad and he sent me a plane ticket to come live with him. I won't be returning. I haven't told dad what we did last night, but if you try to make me come back, I will."

I should have been grief stricken, shocked, or just plain livid. I felt nothing... No, I take that back... I felt a profound sense of relief. I had displayed the ultimate betrayal of motherhood. The unforgivable sin. I was entering my own private hell and I took solace my daughter would not be accompanying me. She had her own demons to deal with.

I didn't shower. I returned downstairs and retrieved an album of family pictures from the cupboard. I found the picture I was looking for, a picture of Megan in her first cheerleader uniform. I fingered myself... fingered myself to the image of my sexy little girl. Her juices, smeared on my face from the previous night, was now dried to a crust. When my body began quivering and twitching to orgasm, I could still smell the familiar scent of her sweet, little girl pussy.

Sitting there on the couch, legs obscenely spread, I thought how ironic it was... Among my circle of friends and acquaintances, my life appeared the same. I was fairly certain I was perceived as the tanned, long legged yuppy, always dressed in expensive, stylish clothes, and was blessed with the perfect husband and daughter. I'm sure, in their wildest imagination, they would never be able to conceive the last two weeks of my life. And, at the moment, I didn't really care.

Upstairs again, I washed my face and dressed for the day. My soiled panties, warm and wet from my orgasm, felt clingy and sexy. I looked forward to going to the supermarket, flaunting the aroma of my sex, feeling the effects of the sluttiness I craved.

At the supermarket I re-discovered housewives were actually there to shop. I don't what I was thinking... that I could stroll the aisles and pick up a woman. I was so consumed with any and everything sexual, it apparently clouded my judgement.

Leaving there, I drove over to Barb's. She was in the laundry room washing clothes.

"Barb," I playfully scolded her, "I thought you were going to call me. I haven't heard from you."

"I've been busy," she said. "Sorry."

"Listen," I said barely above a whisper... "Don't repeat this to any one. Megan went to live with her dad. She left this morning."

"What do you mean, live with her dad?" She said in a surprised voice. "He left you? I thought he was on a business trip!"

"Well, he was but not any more. We're getting a divorce. We weren't really getting along, especially the last six months or so. You won't believe this, he's living with a man! I was married to a closet homo and never knew it. Just goes to show, you can never be sure about anything."

"Why did Megan leave? I never thought she was that close with her dad."

"I think the allure of California," I said. "You know teenagers, they like the nice weather... and all the movie stars she thinks she'll run into everyday."

"Are you going to make her come back?" Barb asked. "Are you going to allow her to live with... with two gay men?"

"Yeah, why not. She'll be alright with her dad."

She finally finished folding clothes and we moved into the kitchen. She made us a cup of coffee.

"So, I'm all alone now Barb. Just me in that big house. Why don't you come over this afternoon. I think we can find something to do, don't you."

She didn't answer me. With her head down to avoid my gaze, she went to the sink, pretending to wash dishes.

I stood up and planted myself behind her. Putting my hand on her firm butt cheek, I asked: "What's wrong Barb. Come on... we can have the entire afternoon. You'll enjoy it, I guarantee it."

She pushed my hand away from her body. "Please, Jesse. I can't do that... that again. Don't ask me, please."

"What's wrong," I asked. "I want some more of your..."

"It's wrong Jesse. You know that. My god, it's perverted. What if Annie found out. You know the trouble I've had with her."

I suddenly wanted to hurt her. I wanted to scream out at her..."I've licked your daughter's pussy you goddamn bitch." But I didn't. I couldn't hurt her like that.

"Okay Barb," I sighed. "Just forget about it. Maybe we can, you know, go shopping or take in a movie later in the week. Call me, okay. I have to get my groceries home before they spoil. I'll see you later."

Driving home, I thought about what I was going to do with myself. I didn't feel like going to the country club and making small talk with a bunch of snobs. I couldn't bring myself to call Rachel, or Mrs Conner. I was scared... I felt truly alone.

I didn't leave the house or talk to anyone for the next six days. I was hungry for female flesh... and food. I was down to cold cereal for dinner.

I finally ventured out to the supermarket. Every young female turned my head. I even ogled a young girl walking thru the aisle with her mother... she couldn't have been more than ten. My sickness was consuming me.

The one person I didn't want to run into, Rachel, happened to be shopping with her mother. I tried to hide in the canned goods aisle but she spotted me.

"Hey, Mrs Jordan," she spoke from ten feet away. "How have you been? Have you heard from Megan? She said she'd like e-mail me when she got to California but I haven't heard from her yet. Do you have her e-mail address?"

"No, I haven't heard from her," I said. And no, I don't have an e-mail address for her."

She looked at me like she was trying to determine whether I was lying to her or not.

"How have you been, Marge?" I said to her mother. "We haven't seen each other for awhile. Have you taken up tennis again?"

"No, she hasn't," Rachel interrupted. "Mom, what kind of soft drinks did I tell you to get. This is the wrong kind. Take this twelve pack back and pick up the kind I told you to get. And hurry up!

As Marge hurried back down the aisle, I turned to Rachel; Why are you talking so nastily to your mother, Rachel? You weren't very nice to her at all."

"I was nice to her this morning," she said coyly. "Just like I was nice to you... remember."

I was stunned. Rachel's mother? How could it be possible.

"You act surprised," she whispered, moving uncomfortably close to me. "She's my bitch now, just like you. You haven't forgotten that have you?"

I held onto my shopping cart to keep my trembling hands still. "No, I haven't forgotten," I mumbled.

Margie returned with the right soft drinks. Waiting for Rachel, she stood there in silence. Rachel, glancing around to see if anyone was watching, placed her hand on my ass and caressed it. I was burning up.

"Why don't you come around to the football game tomorrow," she cooed. "It's our last game. Maybe I can find something for you to do."

I nodded. She finally pulled her hand away, leaving me standing there, quivering. As she walked away, I watched her wonderful ass cheeks spar for their space... pressing myself against the push cart, I ground my cunt against the corner... two or three hard thrust and I cum all over myself... in the middle of a supermarket...

When I arrived home there was a woman parked in front of my house. She approached me as I was retrieving grocery's from the trunk of my car.

"Are you Mrs Jordan?" the attractive woman asked.

"Yes, yes I am. Can I help you?"

"Maybe," she said. "My name is Sandra Morgan... Detective Sandra Morgan. I'm with the local law enforcement."

"Uh... what can I do for you," I spoke in a quivering voice. "Is something wrong? Did I miss a stop sign or something?" I knew she wasn't there for any kind of traffic violation.

"Can we talk inside" she asked firmly. "It shouldn't take long."

"Yes, of course," I said feebly. I was frightened out of my mind. It was all I could do to keep up appearances.

Once inside, I offered her a drink. She declined. I asked what this was about.

"We received an anonymous tip regarding sexual misconduct between adults and children," she said. "Your name came up in the investigation."

"My name? I don't understand." My entire life was flashing before me.

"I think you do, Mrs Jordan. And I think you have information that would be helpful to our investigation. We also believe you've done things you're going to have to answer for. Our primary concern, however, is people in positions of responsibility... people who have authority over young girls."

She was so authoritative... so strong. She was talking about ending my life as a respected member of the community. All I could think about was her long, strong legs... making me do things to her... nasty things.

I slipped off the sofa and sat at her feet.

"What are you doing, Mrs Jordan? Would you please get up and sit over there."

She tried to adjust her short skirt when she saw I was looking up between her thighs.

"I'll tell you everything you want to know," I said, looking at her pleadingly. "I may even be able to help you catch them in the act."

I knew she liked looking down at me... an attractive, well bred woman sitting submissively at her feet. She was quiet for a moment... contemplating her options I supposed.

I acted quickly... lowering my head to her feet... licking her sexy black shoes. Groveling was now a habit with me. She never told me to stop, even when my tongue slid up her nylon clad ankle to her muscular calf. God was she sexy.

She uncrossed her legs, lewdly displaying her creamy thighs above her nylons. It was the sexiest display imaginable... I swooned from her womanly scent.

"You want to eat me out, don't you," she said in a commanding voice. "What do I get for allowing a slut like you to lick my pussy?"

"I'll tell you everything I know," whispered. "I'll do whatever you want me to do."

She widened her legs further, displaying her luscious crotch, her panties tightly stretched up into her slit... her clean shaven mound swollen and intimidating. I responding obediently, moving to her succulence... her warm thighs radiating comfort to my cheeks.

I plunged my tongue between her ripened, moist lips, dutifully serving her like a good bitch... a fawning, slavish bitch. She didn't respond right away... not until I tongued her enormous, magnificent clit... stroking it with my tongue, sucking it between my lips...

She acted as if she hadn't had an orgasm in quite awhile... mewing like a kitten as my tongue snaked up between her slit... sucking her like an oyster from the shell... her warm mucous like cream sliding down my throat, happily reminding me of my position... a slut on her knees.

She tried to mute the groan when her orgasm exploded... her hips betraying the pleasure I was giving... and before she could put a halt to her unorthodox interview, I brought her to a second orgasm... and a third.

Her fingers, snarled in my hair, pushed me away. I sat back on my haunches and quivered thru my own selfish pleasure. She quickly became professional again.

She made sure, in no uncertain terms, I understood never to speak of what had taken place. I believed her... believed she was capable of hurting me.

True to my word, I gave her the names I knew were involved. Mrs Danner, Mrs Conner, and the Jennifer Aniston look a like. I also told her I was invited to meet one of the young girls the next day, after a football game. I told her I thought I would be invited to one of their parties... and in all likelihood there would be sex involved.

She couldn't hide the excitement in her eyes... the competitiveness she surely must experience in her job... and now she was so close to making a big arrest. She was full of herself... but some of her was in me too. I had the taste in my mouth to prove it...

God, how sexy strong women were... as alluring as mean little girls...

The next day, like a dutiful citizen, I showed up at the football game. I spotted Detective Morgan tailing me... dressed like a sexy college coed.

I passed by the cheerleaders, wanting to let Rachel know I was there. She sauntered over to where I was sitting, dressed in her scanty little uniform. My panties dampened immediately.

"Listen Mrs J," she said in her little girl voice, "I want you to stay right here till the game is over. I'll come get you."

"Okay," I said meekly. "I'll be right here."

I turned towards the detective sitting twenty feet away and nodded. She understood.

Throughout the game I squirmed in my seat, trying to bring myself to an orgasm. My standing in my social circle would be in the toilet after today, so I had no qualms about trying to derive pleasure for myself, even in public. If I was caught, so what. I actually had a sense of relief, feeling released from the phony image I felt forced to portray for years... I could now be as sick and slutty as I wanted to be. It didn't matter any more.

The family sitting next to me wasn't much interested in disciplining their little girl, no more than nine or ten years old, allowing her to squirm and move around in her seat continuously. Being tom boyish, she innocently continue showing her soft thighs as she let her little skirt ride up her legs. Such a cute, small thing. I wondered how she would react if I licked her small, bald pussy. I shuddered at the thought. When she accidentally touched my leg with her small hand, I cum. No one noticed me as my entire body shuddered with pleasure...

After the game, Rachel came to get me. We made our way to my car, along with two other cheerleaders, equally sexy and scrumptious looking. I thought how unfair it was that in a few hours they would be in police custody.

With Rachel's direction, we arrived at a beautiful, two story home in the foothills of town. She said it was Mrs Danner's home. Inside, there were girls, and women, everywhere. I recognized most of the cheerleaders... I knew very few of the adults. I couldn't believe my daughter had been involved with these women. Then again, I was one of them.

Glancing around the room, I could see the party was heating up. Lots of touching and kissing... pairing off... going off to find a room for their tryst. Two adult women went up the stairs, one young cheerleader walking between them... I could only imagine what they were planning to do to her.

"Listen, Rachel," I said nervously, "I left my purse in the car. I have to go out and get it."

"I'm sure it's fine right where it's at," Rachel said. "Don't worry about it."

I had to think quickly. "I have a couple of joints in it," I said, "and right now I could use one."

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you," Rachel said approvingly. "Wow... Mrs J, you with drugs. That's like so cool. Yeah, why don't you go get them. We can split one."

Descending the large patio steps, I spotted Detective Martin parked half a block away. I waved... my signal for her that sex was being performed within the house.

I proceeded to my car and quickly drove away I didn't want to be anywhere near the place when the raid took place.

Later in the evening Detective Morgan showed up at my door. I invited her in. I was nervous. I wasn't prepared to be hauled off to jail. Not yet, anyway.

"I wanted to thank you for your cooperation," she said. "It was very productive afternoon. Shit's going to hit the fan when the morning paper comes out."

"Are the girls in trouble?" I asked. "What's going to happen to them?"

"You mean the cheerleaders?" she asked.

"Yes, the high school girls. What's going to happen to them?"

"They're victims," she said. "Nothing will happen to them... I mean, they won't be charged with anything. Their parents might have some big counselling bills. They'll probably sue the school district. I would guess there will be some big money involved."

"Am I in trouble too?" I asked. "Are you going to arrest me... will I go to jail?"

"If no one brings up your name, the DA isn't going to do anything to you. How involved were you with these girls?"

"Very little," I said with a straight face. "I mean, other than knowing them because they were my daughter's friends, I really didn't do anything."

"I don't believe that for a minute," she said firmly. "And neither does the district attorney. She's trying to leave you out of it because you cooperated. But don't lie to me."

"I'm sorry," I said.

I slipped to one knee and hugged her leg, inhaling the intoxicating odor of the firm, strong woman.

"Under these circumstances, you want to lick my pussy again? You're a real slut aren't you."

"Yes," I said submissively.

She pulled away from me and walked out the door. I stood at the window fingering myself as she drove away.

The detective was right. Shit did hit the fan. The headline of the newspaper nearly jumped off the page.

"SEX SCANDAL HITS SCHOOL DISTRICT"

Not only were teachers named... wives of some of the most prominent men in the county were displayed for all to see. This was a scandal of huge proportions. I read every word of the four page article, expecting my name to pop up somewhere. It didn't...

The newspaper alleged Mrs Danner to be the primary player in the scandal. Her name appeared numerous times throughout the article. As did Mrs Conners. The Jennifer Aniston look alike... her name was actually Jennifer... Jennifer Parker. Her picture was on the front page being led into the police station in handcuffs. She was one sexy woman...

Sex sells... even newspapers. The coverage of the story was nearly overwhelming. Every day, for days, it was the dominant story. I read every word every day. It went on for weeks. And thru it all, I stayed at home, venturing out only for food. I was too frightened to do anything more.

No one went on trial. The newspaper articles actually sounded disappointed when all of the adults involved agreed to plea agreements. Naturally they all lost their jobs... the teachers that is... and even some school employees in authority that weren't involved. The school Principal lost her job... I supposed they thought she should have known something was going on.