For another, such an adventure would probably twist her psychologically. And for another still, there was his wife Dora, to think of. Prim but statuesque Dora. If anything ever happened in that house between himself and June, and Dora learned of it, all hell would break loose. Their comfortable marriage would be destroyed – and he truly loved his wife – June would probably be sent to a foster home, there would be a nasty scandal that might cause him to lose everything – job, marriage, home, the works – and Dora would probably have a nervous breakdown.
No, the ramifications were altogether too plain. Despite the terrible urge he felt toward his lovely blonde daughter, he would never be able to satisfy it by sinking his cock into what must be the healing warm balm of her undulating young cunt. That would never happen, could never be allowed to happen. He would just have to go along eating his heart out until this infatuation wore off.
But how could he forget the twin beauties of her two youthfully budding breasts, heaving as they always seemed to be doing, full and round and aching to be sucked?
He closed his eyes. He had to forget. He had to forget at all cost.
And so the train rolled on, carrying him northward, his body warming in this urgent resolve to behave himself however much it might tear him apart. He gazed out the window and watched the trees, factories and houses of Chicago passing along the Chicago amp; Northwestern line.
And so it was that Guy Donovan arrived home approximately two hours ahead of schedule, alighting easily, his newspaper curled up under his arm as he set foot on the platform at Central Street in north Evanston. He walked to the stairs somewhat distractedly, considered moseying down to the drug store for a chocolate soda and rifling through some magazines, but thought better of that, and instead went right up Railway Road in the direction of Isabella Street, where the Donovan home sat in leafy arboreal familial essence beneath tall poplars and oaks. The wind whistled pleasantly through these enormous trees, and as he made his way thoughtfully across Railway Park in the direction of his heavily-mortgaged house, he found his loins beginning to stir with tremulous anxiety as he considered that if Dora had gone out shopping for the afternoon, he might indeed come upon June at home alone.
And his stride picked up faster.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
June stumbled down to the kitchen for a cooling glass of milk, her mind benumbed by the shattering orgasms she had endured on this historic afternoon. Totally unable to think of anything else in her mindless, slavish devotion to hedonistic reveries, she had come downstairs completely naked, her passion-wracked breasts heaving with burning emotion. This had been the most beautiful afternoon of her life. The exhausted twelve year old slumped down wearily onto a kitchen chair and let the cooling white liquid run down her throat, trickling its way south into her burnt-out loins. She couldn't remember when in her life she had ever felt so relaxed.
And to think, that Brute had been here the whole time! The whole time she had been worried, confused, distraught, and playing with herself out of sheer frustration, this magnificent animal – the perfect lover – had existed in her very house, under her very nose, the entire time.
She shook her pretty blonde head, blowing some cornsilk-fine strands out of her face. In the kitchen window across from the breakfast table, she could see her reflection. Her developing breasts appeared to have grown larger since that morning. God, they felt so tingly and hypersensitive.
This was the most beautiful day of her life.
So she sat at the table, sipping from the cool glass of milk, her mind dwelling endlessly on the events of the last few hours. All of her previous life had evaporated into nothingness before the soul-devouring onslaught of her magnificent canine-inspired climaxes. She could scarcely remember anything else. Over and over she re-lived this wonderful afternoon – his lapping of her burning young cunt, then his skewering of her tender virginal passage, not once but three times!
June shivered with sensual delight. She could not believe that anyone else had ever endured such wonderful mind-bending orgasms. She had felt like a star bursting in the heavens.
And then her mother…
She closed her eyes and smiled. When she had left Brute and her mom, the enormous German shepherd had had his forepaws on the moaning woman's back and was furiously fucking in and out of her wildly clasping pussy from the back. June had thought it the sexiest thing she had ever seen. Her mother with her long dark auburn hair undone and falling out over her back, her sensual red mouth open in one long drawn-out groan, her long dark eyelashes fluttering sporadically from the depths of her lightning-charged emotions, Brute's thick red penis slipping in and out through the curly russet hairs between her legs, gleaming slickly, the dog's long tongue panting and slavering over her hair and back.
June grinned. She didn't suspect she was going to have any difficulty ever again over getting anything out of her mother… in a sense they would now both be Brute's concubines. She knew that word from some history of the middle east they had been studying in school. Sheiks had concubines in their harems, and now she and her mother would belong to Brute in the same way. It certainly seemed like a wonderful idea. He was absolutely dreamy. What teenage boy could ever compare to him? So masterful, demanding and dominating. Brute didn't let you get away until he had got what he wanted. And he demanded the ultimate, without fooling around. He didn't settle for less. That was what made him so especially wonderful, and appealing to her.
June pressed her firm young thighs tightly together, the lips of her dog-ravished cunt closing together in a kiss all their own.
She took both her nipples in her fingers and gazed down at them. Who would have believed such extravagant thrills could have pressed through these two small electric buttons from Brute's furiously lapping tongue? It had all been a wonderfully ecstatic dream of fulfillment. She had never felt anything so nice in her life. Her cunt began to tingle now even as she relived their devastating experience in her passion-dazed mind. Her mouth watered as she remembered sucking on his delightful penis, which had seemed to be both hard and tender at once. And then the delicious flames of hot viscous liquid had come shooting out… to be swallowed and gulped down…
Suddenly the screen door on the porch rattled.
Daddy! Oh God! Where could she hide?
June looked around hurriedly. There was the tiny broom closet, but after all there was no future in that because eventually she would have to sneak upstairs and get her clothes. She surely couldn't stay there overnight, either.
Maybe she would run.
But it was too late now anyway. She gazed at the door totally immobile, as if she had been struck catatonic. In another moment Daddy would be coming through that door, and she had to think of what to do.
"Daddy!"
"June! But, my God, what are you doing sitting around like this?"
Guy Donovan stared with eyes blazing at his daughter's voluptuous proportions. His nostrils flared and his penis began to swell with blood as he gazed on them. His mouth filled with saliva, and despite his best intentions he couldn't help but imagine his tongue and his fingers and his cock over and around and into every last opening of her milk-white flesh.
Caught off guard, June decided to be brazen. If there was ever going to be a chance for it, this was it. She had often wanted Daddy's big hard penis ramming deep inside of her starving cunt, and if she could manage to get him upstairs to see what her mom – his wife – was doing with their dog… then there would certainly never be a problem with her mother over anything she and Daddy chose to do…