A glorious but only dimly understood emotion flooded through the girl as Richard squeezed her teat more and more tightly. She found it impossible to keep her eyes open, a heaviness stealing over the lids and a terrible, overwhelming lust making her body tremble with hot and cold shivers. Lisa abruptly jerked Richard's hand down to her loins. She felt the stiff fingers bringing an instant relief to the itching there-and urged her thighs more widely apart so that they could press upwards and scratch freely against the wet, plump lips which curved so pleadingly beneath her crotch.
Lisa released her breath with a shuddering moan of pleasure. Two of Richard's fingers had begun to sink inwards: riding, digging thrusting into the juicy slit that ached so urgently-forcing the little flaps aside and penetrating the red hole in a rough manner which brought tears to the girl's eyes as she felt his nails scratching too sharply against her tender inner flesh.
But it didn't matter! The pain meant nothing to her while she was in this state of excitement! Lisa clenched her teeth and pushed her hips forward, pressing her loins down at the same time so that Richard's fingers could slide deeply into her hungry, unfucked vagina. She knew that she had to control her excitement for fear that her cries would rouse either her father or Miss Wynter from sleep, but Lisa couldn't hold back the heartfelt moans of pleasure which bubbled to her lips as Richard dipped his two fingers in and out of her cunt. They seemed to inspire her step-brother to an even more vigorous assault on her pussy, for he began to frig more passionately than ever- whipping his hand up and down, while his thumb (crooked outside the slit and pressing into Lisa's practically hairless pubis) dug firmly into her warm, moist cunt-mound and worked backwards and forwards across the hard little bone.
But when the itching in her sex had subsided, Lisa no longer felt quite so abandoned. Despite their long hours of intimacy, the young couple had never discovered the more exquisite pleasures they could exchange by advanced stimulation of each other's genitals. Their petting was severely limited, with Richard the most fortunate partner… for Lisa, by some strange quirk in her otherwise sophisticated nature, hadn't realised that she, too, could enjoy the ultimate bliss which she about to provide for her step-brother…
Forcing her eyes open, the girl fell forward until she was crouched over Richard's naked belly with her face close to his penis. The sudden movement dislodged his hand from her loins, but neither of them cared about this abrupt end to his frigging; Richard sliding his hand free of Lisa's body and pushing the lower half of his body up from the bed as she pounced like a famished cat, lips open wide, on the red shaft of his cock.
The small but violently agitated crown slipped into her mouth, sucked tightly inwards by his step-sister's greedy tongue-which protruded from her lips as she darted it from side to side of the quivering rod. Richard lay back with his head twisting to and fro on the rumpled pillow. He felt the sensitive meat of his sex being squeezed as if it was compressed between a wet, clinging vice: the pressure around his knob increasing as Lisa worked her mouth up and down its throbbing length and gnawed on the stiff gristle with her sucking lips.
A fierce pain raged in his loins now, an awful premonition of overwhelming disaster gripping his mind as the savage movement of his hips increased and Richard rammed his adolescent tool harder and harder between Lisa's teeth. It was going to burst! He knew that his penis would explode at any moment… Panic seized him, but he couldn't stop thrusting and thrusting-feeling the hot moisture dripping from the girl's mouth and the panting rhythm of her breath on his prick-while her head bobbed urgently up and down.
“Aaahh!” He screwed his hands into the loosened under sheets, trying to stifle the agonised cry which gave vent to his feelings. Something was happening-that special, incredible something that heralded release and ecstasy…
Richard suddenly held still, his lean buttocks clenched and raised off the bed, suffering the tension which racked his body and waiting out those precious, glorious moments while the tickling in his cock reached its crescendo, then found relief in a pissing that was too thick for urine-too thrilling to be a wet dream…
As the hot fluid hit the roof of her mouth, Lisa moaned and gasped alternately: swallowing the sticky nectar between sighs of intense pleasure, holding the rigid stick tightly in her lips while it ejaculated and marvelling again at its power to eject such a wonderful stream of sweet-tasting liquid. If only her stupid little sex could do the same! Lisa quickly forgot her disappointment and concentrated on wringing the last drop of thick dew from Richard's penis. Her mouth fondled the pulsing weapon, urging it to splash just one final trickle onto her tongue, and she continued to hold it possessively between her lips until the staff began to lose its wonderful power and diminished to a limp, but still exciting plaything.
Murmuring inarticulate words of praise to the exhausted boy, she finally eased her mouth away from his tool and kissed it a temporary farewell. “Until tomorrow, my darling!” Lisa whispered, not to Richard directly, but to his sex. “You're mine, aren't you? You belong to Lisa-and I'll come to see you very soon, my precious dickie! But now you must keep snug and warm…” She tenderly tucked the wet penis into Richard's pyjama trousers and pulled them up around her step-brother's hips. “I don't want you to catch cold, so I must look after you properly, mustn't I?”
Crooning as if she were talking to one of her dolls, Lisa slowly and: reluctantly climbed from the bed and buttoned her nightdress up: her eyes fixed upon the slight bulge at Richard's crotch, her lips moving almost soundlessly. Then, kissing him quickly on the lips, she stole from the room; moving cautiously back down the stairs, along the corridor and gaining the safety of her own bedroom without incident.
Although it was now nearly three o'clock in the morning, Lisa remained awake for some time-smiling serenely at the blue pattern on the ceiling and savoring the strong after-taste of creamy spunk which still clung to the inside of her mouth…
CHAPTER TWO
John Cunningham had suffered two terrible losses in the space of a few years. With meaningless cruelty, fate had deprived him of the two women he loved almost at a single stroke; leaving him with neither wife nor mistress, his only surviving mementos being the child they had each borne to him. The first tragedy had occurred thirteen years ago. Phyllis, his frail and sensitive wife, had died giving birth to Lisa-which at least enabled Cunningham to marry Judith, the girl who was carrying his second child, and thus prevent his only son from being born a bastard. But his mixed feelings about die death of his first wife-seeing the tragedy as perhaps a blessing in disguise-seemed to outrage Providence or whatever forces rule our lives. For, within three years, Judith was also snatched from him: killed instantaneously in a car accident on the very eve of their wedding anniversary.
Cunningham hadn't been a particularly religious man. But he couldn't shake off the suspicion that his previous life of immorality had aroused the wrath of a vengeful God. The twin disasters which had been visited on him, he began to see as a divine punishment; and from that moment on, he changed character completely. The hard- drinking, wenching John Cunningham became a churchgoer-a strict disciplinarian with his children, a model of respectability. He gained the reputation-both at business and in his private life-of being an anti-feminist: actively hating or treating with contempt every woman, young or old, who was unlucky enough to cross his path…
He raised his children as if they were living in the middle of the 19th, instead of the 20th, century. Lisa arid Richard were subjected to the kind of restrictions that were out-moded and stunting to their development; and when they complained to their father that none of their school friends had to behave with such decorum, that they were allowed to watch television, play in the park without constant supervision and so on, Cunningham immediately removed them from the private school and such pernicious influences. Since the age of ten and continuing (Cunningham intended) until they were ready for University, Lisa and Richard had been taught at home by a Governess. Kathleen Wynter was her name, a tall and authoritative young girl whose Irish descent had endowed her with a fiery temper and flashing brown eyes. Cunningham treated her curtly, avoiding her presence whenever possible. He had searched in vain to find a male tutor suitable to educate and care for his children; and when this proved impossible, he had decided against employing a matronly woman for the post. A mature, experienced Governess might easily usurp his own authority over Lisa and Richard, he reasoned-whereas Miss Wynter who was just 25 years of age when she first came to live with them, was young enough to be quelled by Cunningham's stronger personality. She was surprisingly competent, too: although this was only her second position, Miss Wynter had formed an instant attachment to the two sensitive and docile children, and her instruction was received by them with attention-enabling them to progress, educationally at least, as quickly as if they had been attending an ordinary school.
