She wiped away the smeary stains as well as she could. Tom cleaned his cock and tossed the shorts into the back of the cave. They dressed quickly and started up the crude natural steps that led from the middle of the cave to the big pile of boulders above.
After jockeying his car around in the small clearing, Tom got it headed back down the spiral of ruts that led to the old gate with its rusty padlock. From there it was a short trip to the main gate, and soon they were driving over the narrow lane that led along the east side of the lake.
"We beat them, here!" Cassandra said, seeing no cars at either cottage. "May I shower with you? I forgot. I don't have a key to our cottage!"
"Glad to have you!" Tom assured her. "We'll have to hurry if we want to be fresh and relaxed when they get here. Although it's perfectly natural for you to want to shower after driving up here in this hot car. I doubt whether they'd give it a thought."
"Unless they caught us showering together!" Cassandra said.
"We'll be able to hear them pull up," Tom assured her.
They entered the McNally cottage, stripped, and got into the shower. Tom found his mother's fountain syringe and took it into the cubicle with them. He filled it with water from the spray head, and held it while Cassandra douched, giggling as she saw the whitish blobs of his sperm slide out of her cunt and run down her legs.
When they had dried themselves, Tom was sporting a fresh hard-on. Cassandra spotted it, dropped her towel, and knelt on the bath mat to inspect it.
"You got a close look at me," she said defensively. "Turnabout's fair play!" She took the warm cock in her hand, squeezed it experimentally, and was surprised to find that it was really soft in the midst of its hardness. She marveled that it had been able to penetrate her tight, virgin cunt.
"It's sort of cuddly, Tom," she said. Impulsively, she put her lips to the shiny tip and was amazed at the satiny softness of his meaty wedge which had split her snatch asunder. She let it slide past her lips to rest on her tongue, and Tom groaned loudly.
"Sandy, honey! You're going to have an early dinner if you aren't careful!"
"I've wondered what it tastes like," she confessed. "None of the sex manuals I've read had anything to say about that."
"You're either curious enough to find out, or you're not," Tom dared her. And she closed her moist, full lips over the shaft and began to bob her head slowly, letting the tip of the pulsing prick enter a little farther each time, until it touched the sensitive part of her throat.
She speeded up the action, and Tom groaned and grunted with the delicious sensations she was creating. He became starved for the taste of her cunt, but he could not bring himself to disturb the action while he jockeyed them into position for sixty-nine.
He contented himself with running his fingers through her wealth of mahogany satin tresses, tracing the shape of her moving head and caressing her ears and the back of her neck. She was whimpering around her mouthful of stiff cock as she became physically excited by what she was doing and the touch of Tom's hands.
"God, Sandy!" he groaned. "You've just about got me off!" The thrills were multiplying, expanding, boiling up inside him. "Oh, suck it, honey! I'm coming!"
She felt the first hot jet hit the back of her throat, cling there, almost choking her before she could swallow it out of the way. Then succeeding shots were coming as fast as she could contain them by sucking and swallowing.
But she got it all, and when Tom began to groan in misery, she let the softened dick slip from her lips. He saw that her hand had covered her cunt at the last, and she grinned up at him as she sat back on her heels, shuddering.
"I came again," she said simply. "Does that make me some kind of a slut?"
"It makes you some kind of a woman!" he told her. "All woman!"
She thought about it for a while, her fingers gently massaging the freshly wet surface of her box, avoiding the hot, over stimulated shape of her clit.
"No," she decided. "You made me a woman. Until you tore into my maidenhead and screwed me, I was… just a girl… a frustrated girl who fingered herself when she had to relieve the frustrations." There was the sound of a vehicle approaching the cottage. They both became wide-eyed and started to get dressed rapidly.
When the first car door slammed shut, they were clothed; the bathroom was in order – Tom had cleaned up the only spilled drop of jizz he could find on the bath mat, with a tissue he flushed down the toilet – and Cassandra was seated nonchalantly in one of the living-room chairs, a Coke from the refrigerator in her hand. Another bottle sat by a chair across the room. As Tom slid into the seat and grabbed the frosty bottle, the front door opened.
"Sandy," said Coral McNally. "Do you want to ride to your cottage?"
"No. Tell 'em to go ahead, please," Cassandra requested. "I'll walk her over later," Tom added.
Coral called out to the Lafayettes in their car. The vehicle moved on, and she came back inside, followed by her husband. Durward McNally carried two suitcases.
"Bring in the supplies, will you, Tom?" he said as he took his suitcases to the bedrooms. Tom got the cartons of groceries and sundries from the porch while Coral went to the bathroom with her cosmetics case. When Tom finished his task and sat down with his Coke, his father came back into the living room and went behind the bar. Coral joined them, was handed a gin and tonic, and slid her enticingly rounded butt onto a bar stool. She studied the teenagers as she sipped.
"Did you two enjoy yourselves?" she asked. There was a knowing smile on her face.
"Yeah, it was a fun drive," Tom replied. "I detoured to show Sandy the view from the cliff, or we'd have been here sooner and had the drinks ready for you. We got pretty hot."
"Yes, I'm sure you did," Coral said, smiling enigmatically.
"We were a mess from the heat," Cassandra added. "Tom let me use the shower to clean up."
"So I noticed from the two damp towels," Coral observed. "I'm glad he had the good sense to provide you with a means of cleaning up inside, as well. Not only will you feel fresher, but it's good practice to augment those pills your mother makes you take." She smiled at the shocked look on the two young faces.
"H-How did you know…" Tom stammered, staggered by his mother's casually frank treatment of the discovery.
"The syringe nozzle was still dripping," Coral told him.
"But…" Cassandra offered hesitatingly, "I could have just… used it to… freshen up, as you said."
"I'm adding several clues together, Sandy – including the damp spot on the bath mat. It has the definite odor of male pollen!" She saw the faint panic in the girl's eyes. "Relax, kids. Denise will be glad to hear about it. So will Andy. We've all wondered when you two would grow up."
"Jesus!" Tom breathed, feeling the impending hot breath of retribution cool to a warm feeling that he was not quite prepared to understand. He almost dropped his cola bottle.
"The bartender's name is Dad," Durward told him. "In case you were about to ask to have that drink spiked. To you, Sandy, it's Dur. Come on, kids. Let's celebrate your accomplishment."
As if hypnotized, the two rose from their chairs and went to the bar. Cassandra held out her bottle and Durward spiked the cola with a generous shot of rum. But Tom set his bottle on the bar and covered the neck with his hand.
"Put this in the fridge, will you, Dad? And pour me something with water. That's another thing I learned by observing my parents!"
Durward chuckled as he complied. When he handed his son the icy glass of bourbon and water, there was a twinkle in his gray eyes.
"You think we didn't know about all those times you crept out of bed to spy on the swap sessions?" he asked. "Or that we didn't provide the educational opportunity deliberately? Ask your mother what our swap group calls you."