The Cross Ch. 03

His final thrust gorged her completely, as his penis began to throb rapidly. Her chamber was flooded with his semen. She took it all, clutching him lovingly against her, relishing the feeling. They lay there, panting like beasts of burden. Andrew twitched inside of her from time to time, sending little lingering waves of pleasure through her. He was still very hard.

Andrew withdrew from her and watched as his seed flowed freely from her. He stood up, his wilting stamen still glistening with their love. Doreen rose up on her knees, and gulped his softening penis into her mouth. She had trained her throat to take his fiendish girth beyond her gag reflex. He could feel himself sliding down past her tongue and beyond. It was enough to conjure up his lustful desire once again as she set about licking him clean.

"Oh my dear Andrew," Doreen prayed, licking him devilishly "You don't seem to be satisfied. Your beautiful manhood is hard again." She stroked it and looked into his eyes as she said this. "I need you to be satisfied. I need you to take me beyond sin."

Doreen turned away from him and dropped on all fours. She pulled the skirt of her gown aside, exposing her full, heart shaped rear. "Sodomize me, my love!" Doreen begged softly. "Taste my forbidden fruit."

Andrew sank down to his knees behind her and reached forward, fondling her ivory breasts. His shaft bobbed against her butt, brushing against the hole she sacrificed to him now. Her nipples were tight as rubber. Her cheeks blushed brightly with passion. Her tongue lashed the air in anticipation of the improper deed. Her satin thighs rubbed against him as she moved back and forth, teasing his penis with her butt. Finally, he gripped his cock with one hand and her waist with the other. He prodded the infernal hole that lay waiting for him, over and over again, threatening to pierce her anus.

"Oh yes. I'm ready, Andrew." She beckoned him. He pushed a little harder. It seemed that her butt would not allow him entry. It was too tight. He continued pushing, using slow, even pressure. Doreen put her face down into the grass and groaned like a woman possessed. He continued to push, even after it seemed as if he was not getting any deeper inside her.

"Fuck my ass..." Doreen pleaded into the earth. "Fuck my ass like the stud you are. Oh God you're so good to me."

He ran his hand up her back and began to rub her neck. She sighed and relaxed slightly. He moved his hand up to her face and let her lick his fingers until they were moist. Andrew began to rub the glistening saliva in a small circle on Doreen's anus, much to her pleasure. He could feel her body respond, feel the clenched hole relaxing. His forefinger pressing inside, Andrew had gained access to her most sinful chamber. She was ready. He presented the tip of his rock-hard cock to her once again, and pushed. There was a moment when the world seemed to go silent, and then she enveloped him. The two lovers released a sigh of pleasure.

Now Doreen could give Andrew what he had been needing ever since their ménage à trois with Clara. If anything, Andrew's cock felt even bigger when it was in her butt. Even so, it was sliding in further... and further...

Andrew began to pump her dutifully. It felt good. He pushed deeper. Doreen droned into the ground, begging him to violate her. He was halfway inside her rectum now, and needed to be deeper. He pushed in, feeling her cavity envelop him. It felt good to just be inside, feeling her supple flesh twitching against his shaft. It was so tight. Now he stroked long and deep, even pulling out once or twice, just to sink his cock back into her hungry ass.

"I want this forever!" Doreen cried, abandoning the quiet they had maintained. Andrew reached around to her face and covered her mouth. This only seemed to intensify her arousal, and she began to push back against his thrusts, carrying him deeper and deeper within her. He kept his hand on her mouth, holding her like this as he fucked her ass steadily. Her breasts swayed weightily above the grass as they moved. He could feel the head of his cock butting up against her inner wall, and the sensation made him come suddenly. Doreen cried out against his stifling hand as his cock began to pulsate once again, anointing her rectum with his precious fluid.

Andrew almost couldn't contain his roar of ecstasy. He hauled Doreen upright with his cock still buried in her ass. He crossed his arms in front of her and squeezed her tits until they turned red. He moved her body up and down with his sudden burst of strength, still thrusting deep inside her. He could feel the slickness of the semen in her, feel it allow him even deeper. Doreen's eyes rolled back in her head as he took her so hard, so lustfully. She moaned like some poor tortured soul stuck in limbo, drunk with pleasure. He stopped suddenly then, feeling as if maybe he had been too rough in his frenzied lust. He loosened his grip on her and relaxed; his cock still twitching in her.

From there Doreen shifted them so Andrew lay back on the ground. She continued to ride him, her feet planted on the ground on either side of him, steadying herself with her hands on his legs. She pumped her delicious rump up and down on him, pleasuring herself with his slackening penis. She loved this new feeling of sliding up and down on Andrew's snakelike penis. Andrew watched in amazement as she did this. She turned her head to one side, showing him a leer and a lashing tongue. In the moonlight she looked almost sinister; a demon of lust here to put an eternal curse on him.

As Andrew's flesh began to relax, Doreen lowered herself completely, holding him inside of her while she rubbed her clitoris with one hand and tugged at her breast with the other. In this way she finished once again, collapsing finally, panting hard. After catching her breath she moved herself off of him, laying, completely exhausted, in the grass to his side. Andrew moved around her on the ground, and held her while they lay basking in the warmth of love.

They lay together in the grass for almost an hour. Then Doreen turned to him and they kissed. Long, slow kisses. Doreen laughed softly as Andrew took hold of her and rolled her on top of him playfully. He held her and kissed her lips, feeling her body respond to this affection. He kissed her neck, her shoulders... then he rolled her back over. She reached down and felt him hard again, ready for another.

"Oh my sweet love, would you give it to me tenderly if you must have me again."

Andrew spread her knees apart with his, and moved his hips downward so that his cock slid into place at her opening. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him tenderly as he entered her again, arching his back to slide himself inside, inch by inch. He fucked her slowly, gently. He kissed her mouth, let her tongue play upon his. Together they cherished the feeling. She wrapped her legs around him and moved against him, slowly and rhythmically. They rolled to one side, then the other, then with her on top of him. But they did not break their coupling.

"So deep, my love." Doreen begged. "Fuck me slow and deep, oh yessss..." her masterful breasts bounced and swayed above him in the soft moonlight, entrancing him and keeping him hard inside her. She came again on top of him, throwing her head back and clutching her precious cross. Andrew loved the sight of her in ecstasy. She was so beautiful. He thrust himself into her while she was on top of him, moving his hips upward. With his last ounce of stamina he wrapped his hands around her waist and pumped out another orgasm for himself. Her face was pure joy as she braced herself to take this last pounding.

When Andrew stood up, Doreen cleaned his cock with her breasts and her tongue, making sure to move her cross out of the way first.

When they had finished, Andrew dressed and assured her he would return on Friday. She lounged on the grass and looked up at him, watching him.

"Oh..." She remembered something then. "Before you come, you should call me. Stephanie's coming."

"I know," Andrew assured her. "Mark's coming this weekend, too."

Doreen seemed to make a mental note. "Yes, I see." She smiled up at him. "Just call first, OK?" Andrew took his leave of her, sneaking through the side yard and the gate. He was absolutely exhausted. He plodded straight home, remembering to stay quiet only when he made it inside his house. Upstairs, bed, darkness... sleep.

* * *

Sleep. Andrew slept through breakfast Friday morning. He awoke suddenly and looked at his clock. It was nearly ten! He got dressed, crammed an English muffin in his mouth and set out. Before he could get out the front door his mother called from behind him. "Andrew!" He paused at the sound of her voice. "If you're headed over there, make sure you ask the Wilsons what we should bring for the barbecue tomorrow!"

Andrew made an affirmative noise through his English muffin and let the screen door shut behind him. As it closed, he heard his mother shout something else, but he ignored her. She was probably just bitching at him for getting up so late...

Andrew was tired. The week had passed slowly, and he had become quite restless. The night before, he was caught in a tortuous state of desire for Doreen. He couldn't stop thinking about her body long enough to go to sleep. He was too excited by the prospect of seeing her again. Then, when he did fall asleep, Andrew was plagued by strange and very sexual dreams of Doreen. His head was in a fog that morning, and he regretted not grabbing some coffee when he had the chance.

In no time he was on the Wilson's front porch, about to ring the doorbell. He thought better of it and lowered his hand to the door handle. He pressed the thumb latch and the door opened with a click. Would Doreen be OK with him sneaking in on her? He was late. He doubted she would be upset with him greatly, since he was just having a little fun. He moved inside and closed the door silently. He listened.

There was music coming from the little kitchen radio, and water running somewhere in the house. Andrew prowled down the hallway and peeked into the kitchen. Doreen was not there. He checked the laundry room to the left, past the refrigerator and down a little hallway. Still no Doreen. Then Andrew heard something above him. Doreen was upstairs.

Andrew returned to the front door and listened. He crept up the steps and paused on the landing above. The sounds were coming from the bathroom, or so he thought. He could hear Doreen's voice. Was she on the phone in Mr. Wilson's office? Andrew moved nearer to the door to the office; it was open slightly. Andrew looked in and what he saw made his jaw drop.

There was Doreen, bent over the large leather topped desk of George Wilson, talking on the phone with her legs stretched out behind her. She was dressed up, wearing a skirt with her hair done up like it had been the first time they fucked. She wore a white silk shirt and, as evidenced by the lace peaking from beneath her skirt, stockings. She faced away from Andrew, and her considerable, heart shaped rear was so bewitching that he began stroking the growing erection in his pants. But then Andrew realized she was talking about him and it snapped him to attention. It sounded like she was talking to his mother.

"Oh that's quite OK," Doreen chirped, "I had planned on having him over today. We might put him to work when he gets here anyway."

Then, as if reality was still dawning on Andrew, he realized that the sounds of running water he had heard were coming from the bathroom off to his right. Someone was taking a shower! Was Mr. Wilson at home? Andrew began to back away down the hall, realizing he had made a huge mistake. He remembered then that Doreen had asked him to call her...

Then further disaster struck as the front door opened. Andrew nearly leapt out of his skin before flattening himself against the wall, even though he was out of sight. His heart thumped in his chest until he was afraid someone would hear it. George Wilson's voice called from below, declaring that he was home. Andrew's mind raced and he remembered the guest room that lay at the opposite side of the landing. He heard Mr. Wilson's footsteps passing below the landing, leading off into the kitchen. Andrew all but ran down the hall to the guest room door. The door was open slightly, so Andrew left it that way once he was inside and safely hidden in the largely disused bedroom. He sat on the bed for a moment, trying to calm himself. He had no idea how long he would have to hide there.

Then, a girl's voice cut through the roaring turmoil in his head. Stephanie was calling to her mother out in the hallway. Andrew stood up and looked through the gap in the door. He could see straight down the hall, back the way he had come. Stephanie was there. She stood, hair still wet from the shower, wrapped in a towel. The light from the bathroom bathed her young flesh in a golden light, making her look extremely beautiful. Her legs were so lithe, so graced with subtle and alluring curvature. Though Andrew was lost in his world of newfound trouble, he wondered what it would be like to touch those heavenly legs. Stephanie leaned on the door frame of the office, speaking to her mother within. Doreen emerged, and the two of them went into the bathroom, debating something that Andrew could not discern.

What would Andrew do? Could he make it to the front door now? He could not tell where Mr. Wilson was. Andrew retreated to the opposite side of the large guest bed and crouched there. He could still see out the door slightly. He waited, watched and listened.

Eventually Andrew figured out that Doreen was leaving. He could hear voices and commotion, but he could not interpret all of it. Doreen had gone downstairs. Stephanie had gone to her room. Mr. Wilson was talking to Doreen downstairs. Finally, Andrew heard Doreen call out to George before she closed the front door behind her. "George!" Doreen shouted. "If Andrew comes by, just tell him we'll see him tomorrow, please! I'll be back in an hour or two."

Mr. Wilson called out in agreement from the kitchen and then the front door closed. For a long time everything was silent. The silence continued until Andrew thought that now could be his chance to escape. Mr. Wilson was probably out back and Stephanie was still in her room, or so Andrew thought. He was about to open the door and dash down the hall when his heart jumped up into his throat yet again. Stephanie was out there on the landing. Andrew froze.

Stephanie stood there, leaning on the railing that overlooked the foyer below. She wore athletic socks that came to her knees, very short cut off jeans and a tight white t shirt. Andrew had not heard her emerge from her room and walk out onto the landing. She just stood there, looking down. Andrew couldn't see her face, as it was veiled by her very stylish and very blonde hair. Her body was an absolute idol; Andrew was in complete awe. Her slender waist, exquisite on its own, only served to accentuate the swell of her impossibly perky breasts and the rounded curve of her backside. She was such a comely, blossoming girl that Andrew knew all the boys at the college were after her. She could have any man she wanted. This only made what happened next completely and utterly confounding to Andrew.

"Daddy..." Stephanie called down with a smile in her voice. "Daddy?"

She waited, listening. No reply was heard.

Stephanie was holding something in her hand. It was a small porcelain figurine, the shape of which Andrew could not see. She held it out beyond the railing of the landing and released it, letting the tiny white figure fall to the tiled floor below. It landed with a soft tinkling crash that surprised Andrew. This puzzle was turning over and over in Andrew's mind when the sound of footsteps came from downstairs. Mr. Wilson had walked from the kitchen out into the entryway.

"Young lady, you had better come down here and clean that up this instant!" Mr. Wilson demanded. Stephanie stood up straight and said nothing. Mr. Wilson continued.

"If you don't get down here now, I am going to get VERY mad at you. Do you understand me?"

Stephanie actually crossed her arms in defiance like a little girl. "No." She said simply.

"That's it. You're going to be punished." George Wilson said, climbing the stairs.

Andrew felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His body was frozen, immobile. Mr. Wilson's head came into view as the man marched up the stairs like some kind of monster. The image of Mr. Wilson so angry struck fear in Andrew. He realized then that this is what he had feared for a long time: Mr. Wilson's wrath. Fortunately for Andrew, Mr. Wilson had no idea that the boy crouched in his guest room, only a few meters away.

Mr. Wilson grabbed Stephanie by the wrist and pulled her forcefully down the hall to his office. Andrew watched as Stephanie was dragged through the door and out of sight. He heard Stephanie begin to whimper a little, and then all was silent again. The silence was almost more alarming than anything Andrew could have heard at that point. Then it came. A sharp, rhythmic slapping sound, piercing the silence like a needle. Mr. Wilson was spanking her!

Andrew rose from his crouch and left the room, being sure to leave the door as it was. He slinked down the hall slowly and in absolute silence. Before long he stood outside the office door, peering cautiously inside. Once again he was stirred by what he saw inside that office, but this time he was more disturbed than anything else. Mr. Wilson had Stephanie bent over the desk with her shorts pulled down and her bare butt turning pink from his relentless spanking. Every five seconds or so he would let fly with his hand, landing a sharp swat on one of her upturned buttocks. Stephanie tossed her head back, grimacing a little with each strike, her hands clenched together under her breasts. Mr. Wilson showed no expression whatsoever. Indeed, he stared Stephanie up and down blankly, as if he felt nothing at all in what he was doing. Stephanie's whimpering continued, rising in its intensity little by little.

It didn't appear that they were enjoying these theatrics, but Andrew knew that they must be. He was witnessing a dirty little secret between father and daughter. Somewhere along the line Mr. Wilson had developed a taste for punishing his only daughter. Stephanie must enjoy it too, otherwise she would not have provoked him on purpose. Andrew watched for a few moments past what he deemed was too long, and snuck back down the hall and down the stairs at last.

He decided against the front door and ducked through the kitchen. Outside, he tore across the back yard and leapt at the fence on the far side, hauling himself over and into the vacant lot where he fell bodily. He lay there among the underbrush trying to catch his breath and come to grips with what he'd just seen. He wondered if Doreen knew about this charade between her husband and daughter. Andrew collected himself, brushed himself off and made his way through the vacant lot until he came out the other side. From there he decided to take the long way home.

Andrew returned home and informed his parents that he was mistaken in going to the Wilson's that day. They seemed to think nothing of it, which was of tremendous relief to Andrew. Mark was not home yet. Andrew didn't know what was going on. Andrew upstairs and showered. Under the hot water, he found that he could bare the tension no longer. His need had become far too great. His relief was long overdue. He sat back against the wall of the tub, away from the spray from the shower. He lathered up his balls, watching his penis growing. He ran his hand up and down the shaft, squeezing slightly. It felt good. He slid his hand over the head of his penis, stimulating the tip, but this was almost too much. He used the lather to let his hand glide up and down all nine inches. Softly, gently, he let the feeling wash over him. He closed his eyes and imagined that Doreen was massaging his cock, touching him with her naked breasts. He wanted them more than anything. He erupted like a volcano all over the green bath tiles, breathing heavily.