And to crown the madly aroused girl's moment of glory, her father began bursting his juices deep into her churning bowels only seconds after Jim began coming in her ravenous mouth. Now she was overflowing with family love, gagging on her brother's come, wriggling her ass in a frenzy to flood her asshole with her father's spurting cream, removing the whip from her mother's squirming cunt to dip her mouth down and lick greedily at her juices.
Long after Jim and Becky and Glenn fell back exhausted, Sheila Marks moaned and twitched and shuddered against her chains. Oh God, would she ever recover from the excitement?
"Oh my ass," she sobbed. "Oh Lord, that Goddamned evil dildo! I love it!"
Tenderly, Becky unsnapped the manacles binding her mother. She turned the whimpering brunette over on her stomach and reverently licked and kissed her mother's ripe, inflamed ass, slipping her tongue into Sheila's ravaged asshole to soothe her.
"Oh that's so much better, darling," Sheila sobbed. "You're an angel. Even if your father," she added bitterly, "is a prick!"
"Just a lesson, Sheila," he reminded her. "I hope you learned it well."
He looked at all of them sternly. "Remember this, gang. This family shares their action with each other. That goes for all of you. Jim, tonight you sleep with your mother. Whatever you do, I suggest you, leave her poor fanny alone. Becky, you'll sleep with me, angel."
"But not on my stomach," Becky said, rubbing her raw ass-cheeks tenderly. "I love you, Daddy, but I can't say I trust you."
He grinned. "You'll learn to love that, too, honey."
CHAPTER TEN
Glenn Marks received the long distance call at his automobile agency at three o'clock the next afternoon. The caller was a man. When he told Glenn his name, it took almost a minute to register.
Then icy beads of sweat broke out on Glenn's forehead. He fumbled for his cigarettes with shaking fingers. He listened intently for fifteen minutes, breaking in only a few times, very briefly in a tight, hoarse voice.
When he finally slammed down the phone, it almost flew off his desk. "Sonofabitch!" he snapped. He smoked another cigarette in rapid, nervous puffs, thinking.
The crazy bitch. That Goddamned spoiled neurotic. Why in the hell hadn't his usually trustworthy instincts warned him about this one?
Here the town was seething with gorgeous ass, most of them sweet and sane, and he had to pick a pampered rich brat who threw an insane tantrum when she was frustrated. Oh, well, he might as well go home and tell his family.
It was Monday and they had to be out of town permanently by that weekend.
Without even bothering to tell his sales staff, Glenn left work at once. He drove home nursing a fury, recalling that every redhead he'd ever screwed always created problems. Not of this magnitude of course, but still redheads had been poison for him.
Jim and Becky were home in bed but Sheila didn't arrive until five-thirty. They assembled in the living room quietly. Then Glenn told them about the phone call.
Marge Whitaker had, it turned out, flown to her parents' home in another state only an hour after she'd called Glenn at his office and been brushed off by him. She'd been drinking, something she evidently couldn't do very well. In her parents' house, she first tried to seduce her father by getting him into her bedroom, taking off her clothes and attempting to perform an unnatural act on him. Unnatural act, Glenn explained in a sarcastic voice to his family, to wealthy people but known to peasants like them as a blow-job.
Shortly after that episode, the half-drunk, half-crazed redhead tried to seduce her mother in the bathroom while she was taking a bath. Again she tried to perform an unnatural act, called this time by the imposing name of cunnilingus.
And when that failed, she tried – and almost succeeded – in performing the same imposing act upon her sister, who had been under psychiatric care for some time.
Under sedation and with the help of a psychiatrist, the whole story of Marge and Glenn and Becky, and the whip and the spiked dildo, came out the next morning. The redhead's father was a powerful politician who did not mince words.
The only thing that kept him from hounding and prosecuting Glenn was the possibility of a public scandal that might seriously hurt the politician's wholesome image. But, he told Glenn in a voice of cold rage, he might do it anyway and to hell with his public image. He accused Glenn of destroying his daughter's character, corrupting her for life, and wasting thousands of dollars of psychiatric treatments.
And since his daughter would be returning to college in this town, Glenn Marks and his depraved family would not be in even the remote vicinity. They would be out of town by that Saturday, never to return. Or he would prosecute to the utter hilt. Meaning, he told Glenn, he would ram it so far up Glenn's ass his ears would wiggle. Was it clear?
It was, Glenn assured him, crystal clear.
They would have to do the heavy moving and sell the house via third parties, but they could leave by Saturday. Glenn could always get another job, easily with his glib sales ability. He was thinking of San Francisco, a wide-open swinging city. Did they all agree?
They all agreed.
"You know what I think?" Becky said. Her face was serious. "I think her father and her mother and her sister were stupid for not taking her up on balling them. Because maybe Marge was neurotic, but she was really something when she got worked up."
They all burst out laughing, and the tension broke.
"What's for dinner?" Glenn asked Sheila.
Becky broke in with a suggestion. They'd had so much family fun the night before, why didn't they do it again before dinner? Without the rough stuff, she added hastily as her mother's face turned white. Then, instead of Chinese food, tonight they could order Italian food. Ravioli especially. And eat it all sprawling on one bed. Why should some crazy redhead ruin their love lives?
"Family fun," Becky said with her eyes shining warmly, "is the most important thing in the world. As long as we all love each other, I don't care where we go or what we do. Right, gang?"
Sheila hugged her daughter tightly, Glenn kissed her on the forehead, and Jim squeezed her tit fondly. Then they went upstairs, Glenn fondling his daughter's ripe ass, Sheila caressing the bulge in her son's crotch.