No, it was useless. But why had she been thinking of Brute?
And the way she had been thinking of him… no, it didn't bear thinking about. She swung her long slender legs over the side of the bed, jumped up and started getting ready for school.
June had an elaborate ritual that she followed when getting ready for school, and not a small part of it was snatching glimpses of herself in the numerous mirrors that she had placed strategically about the room. She had such perfectly shaped breasts, she thought all the girls at school were jealous of her – and she never tired of glancing at them, watching them jiggle sexily as she moved, nothing their clever uplift and voluptuous firmness, and the way her strawberry-hued nipples would harden and lift in the merest breeze. Then there were her shapely hourglass hips beneath an almost non-existent waist with the flattest of tummies, and the long, smooth legs which she kept hairless by sneaking off with Mommy's little razor every so often. She also had a bit of golden fleece in her armpits, but this was easily taken care of, too. All her hair was golden and very fine. It didn't grow fast enough to warrant shaving or cutting very often, and probably she needn't have bothered.
Still, she liked to look and feel nice and clean.
The twelve year old vamp also glanced at her curly blonde pubic hair in the mirrors as she paraded around the bedroom getting organized. She was often put out because it seemed to her the hair in her golden triangle was altogether too sparse. Her mother's, for example, was very thick and curly – a bright russet color. She knew that was what the hair on a girl's pussy was supposed to be like. Somehow it didn't seem normal for hers to be so wispy, indeed almost bare, when she was so perfect in every respect.
Well, anyway, that probably wouldn't be so important for her until she was older and ready to marry. And even then perhaps she would find a boy who would be tolerant of this imperfection.
Or would she ever marry! The thought of actually having a baby sent shivers down her spine. She didn't want to leave Daddy; she would always love him no matter what. If only he could see that and make up his mind that they should stay together for ever and ever.
But it was useless; he scarcely noticed her. Even the other evening, when she had tried to sit on his lap and snuggle up to him when mother was occupied in the kitchen, he had shoved her angrily off his lap before she even had a chance to ascertain the quality of his sex equipment. It didn't seem fair somehow; she so adored him, and he scarcely noticed her.
Well, that was life. June glanced at the clock. It was time to put a little speed on if she was going to make school in time for her first class.
CHAPTER TWO
If June only knew. For, at this very moment, Guy Donovan was indeed thinking of his young daughter very affectionately with love in his heart – as his long thick cock slid in and out of his red-haired wife's hotly grasping vagina.
"Guy! Oh Guy!" Dora Donovan gasped, working her hips desperately in order to milk his enormous blood-bloated rod of flesh of every last thrill and every last drop of scalding hot sperm. For even though Dora had been on the pill for years, she still delighted and felt an exquisite thrill when she felt that lust-heated semen squirting up inside of her. And now she wanted it more than ever – because there was a terrible fear in her chest that she was losing her husband.
It was nothing that she could put her finger on exactly; it was just that, for the last several months, he had been increasingly preoccupied and distracted when they were making love. As if he were thinking of someone else. They had always made love with the lights on, so that they could see each other's bodies moving, his shining penis slicking in and out through the caressingly passion-drenched folds of her yearning, burning cunt, in the mirrors that surrounded them on the walls at all sides. That was a part of their excitement, watching themselves fuck each other like this, in whatever position it was they were doing in – Viking ship, sixty-nine, or whatever. When she sucked on Guy's magnificent cock, she also liked to glance into one of the mirrors to watch herself. Often he would be probing his fingers into the warm, moist slit of her pussy while she sucked so lovingly on the rigid warmth of his desire-thickened penis. Gently, he would stroke the hot tingling lips of her vagina, and this would drive her wild, until she could hardly feel his cum come squirting out to flood deliciously against the back of her throat. Then too, she liked to watch when he licked and nibbled at the fiercely sensitive outskirts of her burning cunt, sliding his tongue snakelike deeply into her clasping vagina, in order to draw ecstatic little gasps from her hoarsely struggling throat. All this mirror-watching was a fiercely erotic part of their love-making and had lent tremendously to their mutual excitement all through the years. They could watch themselves, no matter what their position was or what they were doing.
But no more.
For recently, Guy had taken to preferring making love in the dark, and Dora knew what this meant. The fact that her husband now yearned for darkness was a sure sign to her that he probably wanted to imagine he was making love to someone else.
Not that there was any other indication of his straying interest. Occasionally she thought she had caught a word through his passionate gasps – perhaps a part of a girl's name – but it was impossible to link those disjointed sounds with any illicit infatuation on Guy's part. It was all too unclear and imprecise.
Pushing these tormenting thoughts from her mind, the lewdly skewered wife worked her hips around and groaned, feeling the enormity of her husband's penis sliding so achingly in and out of her burning vagina. It was like being dredged with an earth-mover when Guy was inside of her, his cock was so huge and dominating. It had always been like this, and that was part of the reason she had loved him and been so passionately devoted to him all of her life. Even when he was only seventeen, his penis had seemed so huge to her, with all those rough, vagina-rippling little ridges, that it had immediately dominated her every thought and consideration for the future.
Dora had never regretted her decision to devote herself wholely to making Guy Donovan happy. He had proved to be a husband and lover without equal, and her loins still ached from time to time, at the most peculiar of moments, when she thought of her handsome, dynamic and cunt-pleasingly hung husband. She might just be lingering over the kitchen sink washing dishes and daydreaming aimlessly, and her mouth would water and her loins begin to chum thinking of the wonderful fucking he had given her that morning or the night before. To live as his slave forever was surely the highest ambition she could have.
And then this. This terrible suspicion that he was closing his eyes and thinking of someone else as he fucked her, or when she sucked on his cock, was just too much to bear.
Why did this nagging suspicion persist so strongly, though? What other substantiation for it was there, besides her own intuitive feminine suspicion? Guy's performance was as adequate as ever, even though he closed his eyes more and occasionally mumbled a name that she scarcely caught. Or was it a name? Perhaps it was merely an obscenity breaking from his lips from time to time in appreciation of the way her loins were moving beneath him and around him.
Her suspicions were spoiling her enjoyment of sex. Several times recently, she had found herself straining more desperately than was normal for her orgasm and, indeed, for the last month, had missed several of them. She was becoming increasingly frustrated, at an age when any normal woman is more hypersexed than ever. And, if she didn't make it this morning, she didn't know what she was going to do.