My mother was a bitch.

Not figuratively speaking; I mean a real bitch. She ran with a pack and she was the kind of bitch that ate her young and fought away the other bitches so she could stand in stud to be mounted by the alpha male.

My mother, Delia Bouvier, her friends called her Dee-Dee, had been born Donna Cantrell on the wrong side of the tracks in a small town. Her mother, my grandmother, raised her to believe that she could rise above her humble beginnings; not by education and hard work, although they would be part of the plan; but by using her looks and her charms.

By the time Dee-Dee was twelve it was obvious she was going to be a stunner. She had a beautiful face, a great body, long legs and budding breasts. Her mother, my grandmother, Vanna, spent every hard-earned cent she earned and all of her time and energy grooming her daughter for better things. She kept away the riffraff who were already sniffing around her daughter and educated her in the school of life.

When Donna Cantrell entered junior high she already knew more about makeup, poise, fashion and sex than most women twice her age. Her mother used her own considerable charms to ensure Dee-Dee entered the better of the two schools in the county. Vanna met the principal for dinner one night at an out of town hotel and stayed the night with him. By the time he drove her back home the next day he was smitten with her charms and abilities in bed and, with the promise that he would get more of the same once a month, he enrolled Donna Cantrell in his high school and waived the fees.

The principal's wife was a rotund, church-going, nag who allowed him his husbandly entitlement of carnality once a month if she felt like it. She wore a heavy cotton full-length nightgown to bed, which she grudgingly pulled up her pale fat thighs and allowed her husband to quickly copulate while she lay there dead still, grunting like a pig as he fucked her.

Vanna Cantrell sucked his stubby little cock like an all day sucker, she wore sheer stockings, high-heels, a satin teddy and makeup and encouraged him to fuck her by raking her heels along his flanks, slithering her tongue inside his mouth and screaming obscenities until he came.

The principal was smitten with Vanna Cantrell and her daughter was guaranteed a place in his school and could take whatever classes she wished with the assured knowledge that her grades would be fixed.

Not that Dee-Dee was stupid; she worked as hard at school as her mother did on her back, she knew that she would need some education if their plan was to succeed. As much as Vanna hated her monthly clandestine assignations with the slimy worm of a principal, his requests for deviant sex were getting more absurd, she knew it was all going to be worth it.

Tremont Joyner Bouvier, Trey to his friends, had everything a young man could want. His family was rich and more importantly had a good family name and roots in the county; he was good looking, intelligent and athletic. He was also smitten with Donna Cantrell.

Donna of course had gone to great lengths to snare Trey Bouvier. Her mother had selected him as their target and coached her daughter well in the arts of femininity and enticement but she was a natural anyway. Her skirts were always just a little shorter than the other girls, her makeup just a little heavier; she walked around in a miasma of perfume and she projected suppressed sexuality.

Trey pestered Donna for months but she rejected his advances until one day Trey had asked Donna to a school dance and she accepted. Later that evening in the darkened parking lot of a nearby park Trey had his hand inside of the waistband of Donna's pantyhose and was about to slide his fingers inside the gusset of her pretty pink nylon panties when she stopped him.

"If you respect me Trey; you'll wait until I'm ready," Donna entreated in a voice that would melt butter.

"But Dee-Dee, you know I'm crazy about you," Trey had begged.

Trey was not used to being refused; and certainly not by a girl who was only a few runs up the ladder from white trash. His friends had teased him about taking the girl from the wrong side of town to the dance, but they were all jealous and secretly lusted after Dee-Dee themselves; she was the fuel for most of the boys masturbatory fantasies.

"Trey I understand that boys need a little relief to keep them contented but I will only let a boy who I know will be true touch me down there; Momma told me I gotta keep that special," Donna whispered in the dark; her sweet breath blowing in his ear and driving him crazy.

"Oh Donna; you are special! I promise you that you will be my special girl," Trey whined.

"Promise?" Donna whimpered.

"Yes honey; I promise," Trey replied.

In the darkened car Trey could not see the vicious little smile that crossed Dee-Dee's face. She had set the bait now all she needed to do was to lure him into the trap.

"Well you can't touch me there Trey but I don't want you going home all frustrated and angry; Momma said that a girl should save herself for her marriage bed but she said it was ok to do this if I really liked the boy."

Trey nearly creamed his jeans when Donna put her hand in his crotch and stroked his thick penis through the coarse denim. He quickly unbuckled his pants and pulled them down his thighs and Donna went to work stroking his long thick cock. This was the first time she had masturbated a boy but her mother had taught her well. She gently slid her fingers along his shaft with a feather-light fluttering motion and cruelly scraped her long red fingernail along his frenulum.

Trey came in about thirty seconds, hot ropes of semen shooting from his pulsing cock splashed onto Donna's thighs and she felt the heat of his spend as it soaked into her hose.

Donna began to quietly sob and Trey pulled up his pants and took her in his arms.

"What's wrong honey?" he asked.

"You won't respect me now! I'm nothing but a whore from the wrong side of town," she cried.

"Oh Dee-Dee; that's not so. I love you honey! I love you!"

Donna's eyes glinted evilly in the darkened car as she threw her arms around Tremont Joyner Bouvier and pulled him close so that her ample breasts pressed into his chest. She kissed him and slid her tongue tentatively into his mouth.

"Oh Trey; you are a gentleman and I adore you," she smiled and kissed him again.

When Trey dropped her off her at her house she kissed him passionately and then pushed him away.

"Here Trey; keep these in memory of this night," she panted.

Donna shucked out of her come-soaked pantyhose and dropped them in Trey's lap; slipped back into her heels, opened the car door and ran up the pathway to her house. She spun on her heels and blew Trey a kiss and gave him a beautiful smile.

When she went inside Trey bought the diaphanous garment to his face and inhaled the scent of Donna Cantrell's pussy and became immediately erect. He masturbated three times that night sniffing her pantyhose and blowing his load into the sheer garment each time.

Tremont Joyner Bouvier was hooked!

Their courtship went on for six months and was the talk of the school. It was a fairytale romance: the boy who stood to inherit the largest fortune in the county and the poor but pretty girl from the wrong side of town.

"Did you know your daughter was going out with Trey Bouvier?" the principal asked Vanna Bouvier as he thrust his cock in and out of her ample behind.

He was doing her doggy style in a fleapit hotel room, admiring her taut tush and her long legs clad in sheer black nylon stockings.

"Oh my! Whatever is that girl up too?" Vanna feigned naiveté and wriggled her backside hoping he would hurry up and finish.

"You can put lipstick on a pig but it's still a pig!" Lucien Joyner Bouvier III scowled at his wife; his face was red and he reeked of bourbon.

His son had bought Donna Cantrell home for dinner that evening and although she had looks that could stop a train, the body of a nymphette and had displayed extraordinary decorum and etiquette it was obvious that her manners were learned rather than bred. Although Lucien Joyner Bouvier and his wife were cordial to Donna Cantrell they could see that she was batting way above her league.

"Oh honey; that boy's just looking for some cheap white-trash poontang is all," Jessica Bouvier tried to soothe her belligerent husband.

"Let mommy take care of daddy's little problem," she smooched and kicked off a high-heel and dug her stocking clad foot into his lap and rummaged around until he began to thicken.

"Goddamn it Jess you sure know how to take my mind off what's ailing me," he wheezed and opened his flies and let his wife stroke his shaft with her elegant nylon-clad foot.

He sipped his bourbon and admired his wife's red-painted toenails encased in the reinforced toe of her stocking as she gave him one of her special foot-jobs. He began to grunt as his orgasm approached and he soon forgot all about Donna Cantrell as hot semen erupted from the glans of his penis and splashed his wife's foot and ankle.

"My, my Lucy you sure saved me a load," Jessica Bouvier giggled.

"Now get over her and see to your wife!" she giggled and hiked up the hem of her black Gucci cocktail dress and exposed her hairy snatch framed by her white thighs above the dark welts of her stockings.

"Goddamn Jess!" Lucien Bouvier said just before his mouth closed over his wife's pungent sex.

But Lucien Joyner Bouvier III had good reason to worry. Despite his father's threats and his mother's pleading Trey continued his courtship of Donna Cantrell throughout high school and into his freshman year of college. By now the gossip in the town had turned to other matters; Trey's courtship of Donna Cantrell was no longer considered scandal. Donna had almost gained respectability by association — almost! You couldn't cross the tracks in this county in one generation.

For her part Donna Cantrell was doing all she could to keep Tremont Joyner Bouvier in line. She progressed from the occasional handjob to fellatio and had leaned how to swallow his load without gagging. But the pressure was on; Trey wanted to fuck her; to take her cherry despite her insistence on keeping her virginity for her marriage bed.

She let him dry fuck her; humping away at her in the back of his car, her legs high in the air and his cock buried in the gusset of her damp panties, the sheer fabric of her pantyhose encasing his cock as it pushed against her labia through the flimsy layers of satin and nylon. He was so near his goal but when he tried to move aside the gusset of her panties she pushed his hand away.

"Trey; you know I'm saving it," she would whimper into his shoulder and thrust up against him to encourage him to spend in her crotch.

Trey was getting frustrated; as a handsome freshmen who was the heir to a fortune he was quite a catch and a lot of the other girls were showing their interest. Trey had taken a bit of stray here and there but he wanted desperately to fuck Donna Cantrell who was the love of his life.

Donna had been discussing this with her mother and they both knew that if Donna didn't capitulate soon Trey might go looking elsewhere for a girlfriend who was willing to go all the way. Trey was under constant pressure from his parents to break up with Donna and they had even resorted to inviting the daughters of their wealthy friends to the house in hopes that Trey might take a fancy to one of them.

Vanna had explained to Donna long ago about how her menstrual cycle worked and they both knew when she would be the most fertile. It was time to close the trap!

Trey was taking Donna to dinner to celebrate the anniversary of the day he gave her his class ring. Donna wore her shortest black dress, sheer black stockings, high-heels, lashings of makeup and perfume. She reeked of sexuality and she looked a lot older than her eighteen years.

Trey couldn't keep his hands off his girlfriend and when he slid his hand up her thigh and found bare flesh above her stocking tops he nearly came in his pants.

"Goddamn it Dee-Dee you're wearing stockings!" he gasped.

"A special outfit for a special night," she smiled back around the straw that she dipped into her cherry-cola.

She hadn't objected when Trey had taken her to small motel and took a room. She followed him sheepishly into the motel room and they both looked sceptically at the bed.

"You know the rule Trey; you can rub it through my panties until you come but you can't put it inside me," Donna said.

What happened next was close to rape. If Dee-Dee Cantrell had not been totally complicite in inciting Trey to take her virginity that night, it probably indeed would have been called rape.

Trey tossed Donna on the bed and fell on top of her kissing her passionately; he cupped her breasts and freed them from the confines of the flimsy bra cups and the top of her dress. He sucked and bit her nipples as he humped away between her legs forcing them wider and wider apart.

"Easy Trey you're hurting me!" Donna pleaded.

Trey's balls were close to bursting and he had no intention of stopping until he had consummated their relationship. He reached down and undid his flies and eased his throbbing erection free of his pants. Donna felt it nestle in the crevice of her sex and push the flimsy material of her panties inside her labia.

"Careful Trey; you know the rules! These panties are very sheer and I don't want them torn," Donna said.

Trey reached between their bodies and took hold of the flimsy garment and tore the panties from Donna's body. There is a common misnomer that a girl's cherry is positioned inside her vagina; it is in fact a band of tissue at the entrance. Donna Cantrell shrieked as Trey Bouvier slid his iron hard shaft inside her well-lubricated vagina and tore her hymen.

"Oh God Trey what have you done!" she shrieked.

"I'm sorry; I love you Dee-Dee," he howled and plunged himself inside her until he was buried up the hilt.

Their pubis slapped together and Trey took Donna's ankles in his hands and lifted her legs up high and began to fuck her. Her tight tunnel clung to his turgid penis as he plunged it in and out of her and his orgasm built up quickly.

"Trey honey; what have you done? What have you done?" Donna sobbed, tears running down her cheeks.

"I love you Dee-Dee! I love you!" Trey sobbed in return as he continued to plough her with his rampant spurting member.

He came deep inside her; filling her with hot seed. After a few minutes Trey lay spent on top of his quietly sobbing girlfriend; his semi-erect penis was still inside her, the last droplets of his spend oozing from the eye. He kissed her softly on the lips and then the cheeks and then on her eyelids and licked her tears from her face.

"I do love you Dee-Dee; more than anything and I'll be true to you forever," he entreated.

"Really? Really Trey?" Donna replied her eyes sparkling amid her smudged mascara.

"Yes Donna; forever," he sighed.

"Weeeel; I suppose now that the damage has been done there is no use crying over spilt milk," Donna smiled complicitly.

She ground her pubis against Trey's and squeezed his cock with her vaginal muscles; she lifted her legs and put them around his back and began to hump him. Trey responded by kissing her passionately and tearing off his shirt between thrusts; he wanted to feel her sleek nylon-clad legs against his bare flesh while he fucked her.

Donna had been coached by her mother on how to pleasure herself whilst pleasuring a man and she soon found the right position to maximise clitoral stimulation. Her first coital orgasm was far more satisfying than masturbation.

Trey and Donna spent the night in that cheap motel and by sunrise her vagina was sore and his penis was raw; they had rutted like animals all night.

Donna was never sure if it was the first or fifth ejaculation that her beau deposited inside her that had impregnated her; but she was positive that it was that night that she fell pregnant. She let Trey fuck her every night that week; he didn't ever mention contraception and neither did she. She missed her period during the next cycle and she and Vanna went to see a doctor in another county.

The rabbit died and they both smiled at each other conspiratorially. Her plan had worked; now they needed to make sure that Trey stayed true to his word.

Trey paled and nearly fainted when Donna broke the news. Then, like a true Bouvier male, he hardened up and offered to marry Donna. Donna cried and said she didn't want a shotgun wedding but that she wouldn't even consider having her pregnancy terminated. Trey said that no child of his would be born a bastard.

"Oh Trey daring; I love you! Of course I'll marry you," Donna smiled up into her beau's shining eyes.

They celebrated with a long afternoon of lazy sex; Donna took Trey around the world and back.

When Trey and Donna confronted Trey's parents with the news that they were betrothed and that Lucien and Jessica were soon to be grandparents the Bouvier household erupted. Trey defended his fiancee when his father called her a "gold digging whore" but strangely Jessica Bouvier defended Donna but she admonished her son for being stupid enough to impregnate her. The meeting did not end well with Lucien retiring to his study with a bottle of bourbon; he was so angry he kicked his beloved bloodhound Bess in the ass to move her out of the way.

The loving couple and the grandmother-to-be huddled together in the lounge and discussed the future. Jessica was a little sympathetic to Donna; she was from good breeding but she too had used her womanly charms to trap her husband.

Donna knew that now that she had hooked Trey, the last hurdle to overcome for a life of wealth and leisure was Trey's father, Lucien Joyner Bouvier III. She had to placate the patriarch of the Bouvier family in order to gain access to the life of luxury she so desired. She sat down with her mother who was surprised when she heard her daughter's audacious plan; she had taught her daughter well!

Donna burst into the offices of Lucien Joyner Bouvier III and confronted an officious looking secretary who refused to let her into Lucien's office without an appointment. In the end Donna strode past the secretary and burst through the solid walnut door to Lucien's office. The secretary was hot on her heels.

"It's ok Rosie; let Ms Cantrell stay and cancel my three o'clock. I won't be long with Ms Cantrell so have my car standing by to take me to the airport," Lucien boomed.

"Ms Cantrell, please take a seat," he said as Rosie closed the door behind her leaving them alone in the large office.

Lucien sat behind a large mahogany desk and looked the picture of wealth and power dressed in a thousand-dollar suit; his large leonine head elegantly coiffured and his fingers manicured.

"I don't have long little lady; so say your piece and get the hell out of my office," he snarled.

"Oh please call me Dee-Dee; all my friends do," Donna replied sarcastically.

"If I'm to be your daughter-in-law you can at least pay me that courtesy," she added.

"Daughter-in-law! You're nothing more than a gold-digging little tramp!" Lucien snapped.

Donna had dressed in a tight-fitting dress with a plunging neckline and a hem that barely covered the tops of her thighs. She was wearing flesh-toned sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose, high-heels and makeup and she reeked of perfume.

When she sat down her skirt rode up; she made no effort to pull down the hem and instead she opened her legs slightly so that Lucien could see the dark thatch of her pubis through the sheer gusset of her hose. She was not wearing panties.

"Now, now, Lucien there's no need for name calling; let's face it you have a wonderful boy there in Trey. He's loving, kind, considerate, academically smart; but he's as dumb as a sack full of hammers," Donna said matter-of-factly rummaging in her purse for a cigarette.

"But like it or not that boy of yours wants to marry me," she smiled and lit her cigarette.

Lucien was transfixed by this brazen teenage girl who was flashing her sex at him whilst telling him that his son was basically a stupid cunt-struck boy. A ray of sunlight burst through a gap in the blinds and fell across Donna's thighs, her nylon-clad legs glistened in the bright light; her cunt was clearly visible though the sheer gusset of her pantyhose.

Lucien cleared his throat but could not tear his eyes away from the young vixen.

"I'll expose you for the scheming little strumpet that you are!" he wheezed but his eyes remained transfixed on her full breasts and long legs.

Donna stood up and walked over to the mahogany desk and perched herself on the edge facing Lucien, her legs wide open. She crushed her cigarette out in the crystal ashtray. Her perfume engulfed him and he sincerely believed he could smell her sex.

"Now look here daddy; there's no reason we can't make this an amicable union; your son needs a strong woman to guide him. Let's face it; he is in fact about as street-smart as a sack full hammers."

Donna got to her feet and smiled when she saw bulge in Lucien's pants; she was having the desired effect. She dropped her tight little ass in his lap and wriggled her buttocks. Lucien's hands instinctively gripped her thighs and stroked her coltish legs.

"I'm sure we can come to some arrangement that will suit both our purposes'" she smiled and stroked Lucien's thickening erection through the thin fabric of his pants.

"You little hussy," he gasped; but made no effort to dislodge her from his lap.

Dee-Dee Cantrell slid out of Lucien Joyner Bouvier's lap and dropped to her knees before him. Her hand snaked up his thigh; the bright red nailpolish contrasting nicely with his dark Saville Row suit pants, and unzipped his flies.

She extracted his thick meaty joint and without preamble she swallowed it and began to suck on the pulsing weapon, slavering his glans with her tongue.

"You little minx!" Lucien sighed and clasped his hands around her head.

Lucien fucked Donna's face as she clamped her lips around his hard rod; her ruby-red lipstick left telltale smears along his shaft. She felt the cock pulse in her mouth and smiled to herself. Lucien grunted and unloaded a torrent semen in the young woman's willing mouth.

Donna swallowed her prospective father-in-law's load and licked him clean. She tucked his slowly deflating penis back into his pants and sat back down in his lap.

"Now look here daddy; there's no need that we can't get along quiet amicably," she said matter-of-factly.

"You just put me in your little appointment book for an hour every Wednesday afternoon and I promise I'll behave like a good little daughter-in-law should and take care of my daddy's needs."

She punctuated the sentence by squeezing Lucien's prick.

He stroked her thighs; his hands sneaking under skirt and caressing her mound through the gauzy nylon hose.

"What about this?" he hissed, poking a finger inside her moist labia.

"You can take all you want," Donna sighed.

Lucien masturbated Donna through her pantyhose until frustration caused him to tear a hole through the gossamer fabric and plunge his fingers into her sopping twat. His thumb tweaked her clitty and he manipulated her until she buried her face into his shoulder and screamed as an orgasm rocked her.

She kissed him passionately and then hopped out of his lap and straightened her dress.

"Until next Wednesday daddy," she smiled and blew him a kiss.

She flicked up the hem of her skirt just before she stepped through the door and gave Lucien a glimpse of her tight little pantyhosed-clad ass.

She closed the door behind her and haughtily strode past Rosie the secretary who sat silently fuming at her desk; her eyes shooting daggers at the young trollop who had been alone with her boss for far too long.

"Bitch!" Donna snarled at the bemused secretary.

A week later Tremont Joyner Bouvier married Donna Cantrell at a small ceremony in a discrete chapel in Las Vegas. Donna's cunt was still dripping Lucien's spend into her white satin panties; he had insisted on fucking her up against the wall of her hotel room whilst she was dressed in her wedding clothes only minutes before the ceremony.

It was Wednesday and as far as Lucien was concerned a deal was a deal.

Donna was wearing white hold-up stockings under her wedding dress and Lucien had simply lifted up her dress, pulled her panties aside and slid himself inside her and fucked her viciously up against the wall; Donna had wriggled her ass appreciatively as her daddy-in-law took his dues.

Later that evening when Trey fucked his new wife, still dressed in her white taffeta gown, he mistakenly though that her cunt was slick with anticipation for him when in fact it was his own father's semen that had lubricated his wife's tight snatch.

Only a few close members of the family and a few friends had been flown to La Vegas at Lucien's expense to attend the wedding. Vanna Cantrell was not invited. When my mother signed the marriage certificate she signed it Delia Bouvier. She had changed her name by deed poll the previous day; Donna was no name for a girl of breeding! She would later insist that her friends still call he Dee-Dee but woe betides anyone who mistakenly called her Donna.

My grandmother, Vanna Cantrell, never got to live in the big house with her daughter or enjoy the fruits of Dee-Dee's marriage. Delia ignored her mother's pleas and basically disowned her. Vanna drank herself to death ten years later. Delia sent flowers to the funeral but she didn't attend.

Eight months after their marriage my mother gave birth to my elder sister Melissa. Lucien had continued to take his regular Wednesday payment, fucking his daughter-in-law right up until her confinement. He even locked the door to her private hospital room and had her fellate him the day after the birth.

I was born two years later and named Alexander Bouvier; to this day I still don't know if I was conceived by the sperm from my father, my grandfather or one of my mother's many beaus. By then Delia was fucking my father when and where he wanted, my grandfather every Wednesday and any odd young man that took her fancy anytime she wanted.

My father started work at my grandfather's firm and was slowly working his way to the top. He and mother had little time for my sister or me and I was raised by my nanny who I called aunt Betty. Mother only wanted to see me when she wanted to display me to her friends or when she came home late at night drunk and feeling guilty about neglecting me.

She would come home soused and drop her expensive gown on the floor for one of the servants to pick up the next day and lift me from my bed and kiss and cuddle me dressed only in her underwear. My fondest memories are of being cuddled by mother, her soft warm skin clad in silk and satin, her pretty face caked with makeup and a cloud of perfume enveloping us as she cooed and stroked me.

This went on through the years right into my teens. Mom would come home drunk and sit on my bed dressed only in her lingerie and tell me how much she loved me while she cradled my head on her breasts and cuddled me.

I started to get erections when she did this and I am still not sure if she noticed or even cared. I had developed a fetish for nylons and lingerie; no doubt bought about by my mother's late night visits. I would steal items of her underwear from her room and spray them with her perfume and masturbate with them. Or even better I would take her soiled underwear from the washing basket and use it to masturbate with.

One night my mother opened the door to my room and stood there silently watching me masturbate with my cock inside one of her nylons and a pair of her panties over my head. I didn't know she was standing there until she began to giggle.

"Why Alex Bouvier; you're just like your daddy and grand daddy, you cant keep out of my panties," she laughed.

I blushed bright red and pushed the illicit garments under the covers.

"I'm sorry mom; I'm really sorry," I stammered.

Delia entered my room; she was wearing a red satin teddy, black nylon stockings and black high-heeled pumps. She reeked of perfume and whisky. Her makeup was dishevelled, her lipstick was smeared and her mascara had run. She looked downright sexy.

She sat on the bed and slid her hand under the covers and retrieved the pantyhose I had been using to masturbate; she held them up to the light and I cringed with embarrassment. Little silver trails of pre-seminal fluid stained the diaphanous garment.

"You've put a runner in these Alex; they're ruined!" she said sternly.

"I'm sorry momma; I won't do it again," I whined.

"The hell you will Alex! You Bouvier men are all the same, sex, sex, sex; that's all you think of!"

"Get your scrawny ass out of that bed and get over here!"

I reluctantly crept from under the covers and sat next to my fuming mother. She surprised me by pulling me over her lap and began to wail away at my buttocks.