— giving them lessons, going to the village with them, taking them to the movies.
In the back of her mind, a nagging question recurred. Was he really teaching the girls to swim? He always seemed to be with Carla and Nancy — none of the others got any private lessons! Suspicion growing in her mind, she got up and dashed out to the yard in time to see John swing out towards the woods. She ran over to the paddock and hastily slapping a bridle on one of the horses, she leaped up and cantered off in the direction that John had taken. Careful to keep him a respectful distance in front, she was surprised to see that he didn't stop at the usual swimming area, but cantered on, making a circle of the lake. Silently, she followed him, and finally, in the distance, she saw him dismount. Ducking behind the trees so he wouldn't see her, she stealthily traced the path he had taken.
She tethered the horse a few hundred yards from where she could see three other horses, and then began to creep through the woods. She was afraid that the birds would give their usual warning — telling everyone that someone was creeping through the forest — but fortunately, this morning they obliged by keeping quiet.
She heard the laughter of feminine voices and then the huskier guffaw of her husband's voice. As the voices got louder, she craned her neck in an attempt to see the trio.
Finally, she approached a clearing, and could see through the trees a small waterfall, chattering over the rocks. She edged closer and finally she was separated from the clearing only by single trees.
For a moment, she saw nothing and was just about to step into view, when the naked laughing figure of her husband dashed past, only a few feet away from her. He was looking over his shoulder and he almost bent double with laughter. He was galloping around in circles, and Iris could barely stop herself from dashing out there herself and confronting him. Then she gasped. Another naked figure ran into view — it was Carla, her long dark hair flowing behind her, her arms outstretched, trying to reach John. Her shaded young pubic triangle gleamed against her bronze skin, and her long slender legs rippled with the efforts of her gait. Iris had barely time to draw a breath before she caught sight of yet another figure — this time it was Nancy, running on her shorter legs, her long blond hair like a golden cloud about her small face. Even from the distance, Iris could see her gray eyes were sparkling and her cherry red mouth was open, revealing perfect white teeth. The tip of her pointed pink tongue darted out to wet her lips, and her small breasts bobbed and bounced from the jaunting movement of her body. All three were playing some kind of lewd game of naked tag, and the places they were trying to touch were not the usual places either!
Blind fury convulsed Iris as she watched her husband frolicking like a lascivious satyr with wood nymphs.
Unable to stand it any longer, Iris dashed out, her hands doubled into fists, her dress riding up around her thighs.
'You dirty bastard!' she screamed, 'You dirty old man!'
All three of the naked figures stopped their game abruptly and looked at her. Her hair was all askew, stuck with brambles and leaves. Her face was contorted and saliva was forming into flecks of foam at her lips. Her arms were raised in a typical John L. Sullivan pose and her shift was so high they could see the nylon of her panties.
Iris made straight for John and began to pummel him with her fists, all the while mouthing obscenities at him. He, surprised beyond belief, just stood there, mouth open, staring at the strange sight, impervious even to her stinging blows.
Carla and Nancy, at first dismayed by the sudden entry of Iris, regained their cool and began to laugh with gusto at the ludicrous sight. Iris was kicking freely at John, and she landed one hard thump on his shin, causing John to lift the attacked leg and bellow in rage.
The two girls began to jump up and down, complete children again in their enjoyment of the tragicomedy, and began to clap their hands, egging John on to defend himself against his angered wife.
The pain of the sharp blow to his shin brought John to his senses and he lunged forward, tackling Iris like a football player, bringing them both to the ground.
She continued to kick and swing at him, digging up the ground in her efforts, and pine needles and other leaves flew up, coating the perspiring pair. Finally John was able to subdue his enraged wife by pinning her arms back and sitting on her legs. Trapped though she was, she continued to spew invectives at her husband, her face a deformed picture of rage, covered with leaves and dirt.
'Bastard…' she howled. 'No-good bum…'
John, seeing the funny appearance his wife presented, grime-covered as she was, couldn't suppress a laugh.
'What kind of wildlife do we have here?' he asked, prodding at her with his free hand. 'A dirt-covered fishwife, fresh from the forest!' Carla and Nancy laughed uproariously, adding fuel to Iris' smouldering fire.
'Let's see what this bird looks like without feathers!' he sang, and began to pull her dress from her imprisoned body. She tried to struggle, but pinioned as she was, the attempt was futile. He managed to remove her dress, and then flicked her bra and removed it. He reached down and began to roll down her panties. Iris, her legs released for a split second, kicked out furiously, and landed a hard blow to John's chin, knocking him completely off balance.
Iris leaped up, her panties still just above her knees, and began to run toward the woods. The girls, galvanized into action by the sight of the fleeing woman, gave chase. Usually a strong and fast runner, Iris was hampered by the confining panties above her knees, and before she had fled many yards, the two younger girls caught up with her. They grabbed her, one on either side, and managed to slow her down. Tired from her struggle, the older woman was no match for the equal strength of Nancy and superior power of Carla. Triumphantly, the two girls marched back to the clearing with their prisoner, like natives capturing a fleeing missionary.
John had recovered from the blow, but her strike for freedom had awakened the anger which never seemed to be far from the surface as far as Iris was concerned.
He instructed the girls to make Iris lie flat on the ground. They gleefully complied, and she was stretched out, Nancy sitting on her legs and Carla holding down her arms.
He could see his wife quivering in fear, and he relished the look of fright on her face. Her legs were slightly spread and he could see a faint pulsing of her pussy. Sweat was running in trickles down between her legs, and her breasts were heaving. Her entire body was streaked with dirt, and she looked like a captive primitive jungle maiden.
He paced up and down, stroking his chin, pondering over what to do with her.
Finally, he snapped his fingers and said: 'I've got it! Nancy, why don't you give Iris a little kissing and loving to make up for what we've done!'
Nancy stared at him for a moment, and then a salacious grin spread across her young features. She glanced at Iris' unprotected pussy and then back at John. Her eyes were flashing as if in expectancy of what was to come. Again, she swiped her tongue over her dust-covered lips, and returned her gaze to Iris' trembling pussy.
John reached down and replaced Nancy as custodian of Iris' feet, and grasping an ankle in either hand, spread her legs wide, and then sat back, still grasping her ankles, allowing plenty of room for Nancy, who was settling herself between the widespread legs.
Iris, recognizing what was to come, tried to struggle, but she was held in a viselike grip and couldn't move. A broken sob escaped her throat and she could only grit her teeth.
To John's surprise, he saw Nancy almost immediately lower her head and take a closer look at the pink throbbing delicacy between his wife's legs. Her small hands began to knead the fleece-covered pubic mound, and John was surprised by the expert motion of the young girl.
He raised his eyes quizzically to Carla, who nodded her head.
'Yes,' she said, with the air of a successful teacher, 'she's pretty good at it, too. She's been doing it to me for weeks so she's had plenty of practice!'
John opened his mouth in amazement and was about to reply, when his attention was caught by the action beside him.
Nancy was slowly spreading the soft, hair-rimmed flanges of his wife's cunt, her thumb and forefinger pressed out on either side. She drew apart the outer lips, and craning his neck, John could see the pink frayed edges of her inner pussy lips come into view. The tip of her pink-budded clitoris was barely visible through the
