The boy teaser

CHAPTER ONE

Carol Chambers closed her lovely eyes and let the bright noonday sun filter through her eyelids, casting a hot red light over the troubled thoughts that swam through her mind. She was sunning

herself on her patio, lying on a chaise, clad in the skimpiest bikini she could find and enjoying the sun's penetrating warmth on her barely covered tits and cunt. She was lucky and she knew it. Carol was wealthy, having made a small fortune in the advertising business through hard work and some degree of ruthlessness. She was beautiful, beautiful in the lush, full, free-flowing way that made men wild to fuck her. She had friends, friends of the proper sort, friends whose attitude toward life was devil-may-care and morally loose, wealthy friends, friends who bored each other with a passion. She had everything, everything except happiness.

Carol Chambers, for all her beauty, for all her wealth, for all her fashionable aggressiveness, was unable to find the one thing in life she needed now more than anything else. She lacked a satisfying sex life, and the lack of it was driving her crazy. It wasn't that Carol wasn't chased after by men, far from it. She had had lovers, many of them. But something had always been lacking in her many affairs, something that she had only recently come to realize. It was not only the deep feeling of love and attachment that her affairs had lacked. It was also the freedom; felt within her; to give herself totally when she was getting screwed. She was frigid, at least more frigid than she should have been, and she knew it. She also had come to realize why.

Carol bad always had the ability to look inside herself and analyze her own inner workings. Perhaps it was an innate ability. Or perhaps the ability to see her drives and motivations for what

they really were a cultivated trait, a trait arising due to the necessity to see the motivations of others in her advertising agency. Whatever the source of her self-analytical abilities she knew what her sexual problems were. Lately she had been thinking about such things constantly and not having a moment's peace.

Carol was thirty-five, and at thirty-five she still hadn't found the sexual satisfaction she craved. She wasn't sure that any of her friends had found it either but that was Utile consolation for her. Her life had to improve before the ravages of time began to show themselves. It was in this mood of unrest approaching desperation that she found herself on this particular afternoon.

She had been allowing herself to drift back in her thoughts to the night more than twenty years ago when all her sexual problems had started. Her daily plunges into the dark waters of her memory of that night had left her a bit exhausted lately. But Carol was strong of will and was determined now to find a way out of the maze of her sexual hang-ups. It all came back to her as if it had happened only yesterday.

Carol was an orphan, an orphaned child of parents who were killed in an automobile accident. There were no relatives to care for her and she was put into an orphanage. Luckily, because of her incredibly winning cuteness, she had been adopted at the age of three, only a few months after the loss of her parents. She remembered little of her experience in the orphanage. Of her experience with her new father she remembered much.

Actually she had been quite happy with her new family. Her adoptive mother cared for her as if she were her own child and her father, at least in the first several years of her life, exhibited toward her the same feelings of fatherly love that any father would have felt for his child. The situation suddenly had changed, however.

Tragedy struck one night when, for the second time in Carol's young life, an automobile accident had claimed a member of her family. This time it was her mother who had died. Carol had been eighteen at the time and had felt the loss of her mother deeply, more deeply than she had felt the loss of her real mother, whom she hardly remembered. Her father had felt that loss even more deeply.

Carol had recovered from the shock eventually, having developed even at the tender age of eighteen the resiliency that had made her a success 'in business in later years. But her father had seemed totally unable to cope with his lack of a partner. He had always been deeply attached to his wife, and Sally's loss had nearly ruined him. His life had changed abruptly. Instead of the strong-willed and protective parent he had once been, Carol had found a weak, shattered excuse for a man.

Carol's disturbed father had quit his job and begun to hit the bars frequently, sometimes staying out all night or coming home with some drunken whore. On such occasions Carol had been whisked away in the night by her new aunt, a loving and protective woman whose memory Carol still cherished. Her Aunt Arlene had begun to stay at

the house on an almost permanent basis to care for Carol since her father was neither capable to do so nor so inclined. Carol had been hurt deeply by her father's actions on his drunken nights. She still remembered the sluts he had brought home with him and the vulgar way in which he pawed them and engaged in the most obscene conversations with them in front of his eighteen-year-old daughter.

Carol's aunt had eventually been forced to discus with her father the possibility of letting Carol live with her on a permanent basis. Her father had refused to allow it. Carol had detected even then an atmosphere of impending disaster in the house. Her aunt seemed to be afraid. of something all the time, as if she couldn't bear to let her out of her sight for a minute. Carol had also noticed a strange attitude in her father, an attitude she hadn't understood at the time. He had seemed to stare at her in the most peculiar way. His eyes had become glassy and vacant, as if he were looking at her with some evil intent. And whenever Carol had made some involuntary shrinking movement as a result of his strange stare, he had become violent in the extreme, sometimes throwing things. Carol began to feel that he hated bet

It wasn't until one night after one of the man's wild binges that Carol came to realize that his feelings for her were something other than hate, although just as dangerous.

Carol was sleeping fitfully when she heard the front door slam hard. She knew what that meant.

Her father had had a bad time with one of the women he was always picking up. She wished that her aunt were there to whisk her away to the safety of her house. But her aunt was ill and there, was nothing she could do but hope her father would ignore her. Her hopes were to prove false.

She heard a few gasses breaking downstairs, a habit her father had developed lately after downing a drink, then silence, an uneasy silence that frightened her. She hoped he had passed out, as he often had lately. When she heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs, however, she knew that something terrible was about to happen. Theft was no escape. She huddled up against the wall, her nearly naked body shivering with fear.

She heard the door creak open and saw a bit of light from the hallway pierce the darkness. It was her father all right. He had a terribly wicked look on his face, a look that filled poor Carol with unutterable terror. This man had become a complete stranger to her in recent months, a stranger of dangerous and filthy ways. It was as if a total stranger were moving slowly, stealthily into her bedroom.

Carol wasn't a young woman totally ignorant of sex. She had already begun to grow aware of her own body and the developing femininity that in later life would be her womanly treasure. She had heard all about sex and what men sometimes did to women. She had even heard conversations about sex between her father and his bar girls. On occasion she had heard the groaning and moaning, the grunting and screeching, when her father fucked

one of his women before her aunt had been able to save her from the embarrassment. Aunt Arlene had warned her about sex and had told her how terribly painful it could be. They were words of warning that she could never forget, although at the time she had considered them the words of a kindly protector.

It wasn't until she saw the dirty gleam in her father's eye as he stood there in the door that she realized his stares were the stares of a horny male sizing up a fuck prospect. She acted quickly, sliding under the coven again and pretending to be asleep, hoping he hadn't seen her sitting up against the wall. She tried to control her breathing, which by now was quite erratic, but not nearly as erratic as her father's.

The tall hulking man, who had seemed handsome to Carol once but who now loomed before her as an ugly monster, stood beside her bed and glowered down at her. Carol opened her eye just a crack, closing it quickly when she realized once and for all that he intended to rape her. Even the word rape sounded terrible to her. It was an ugly word for an ugly act. Her aunt had warned her of men who might try to rape her. She had told her to pretend to be unconscious if such a thing should happen to her, to pretend to faint, to fall limp and hope her attacker would tire of her. She remembered her aunt's words and tried desperately to look like an innocent sleeping eighteen-year-old girl.

Unfortunately for her, an innocent eighteen year-old sleeping girl was exactly what her

deranged father wanted for his twisted sexual desires. He had gone without satisfying sex for so long and his mind was so tortured with the sudden loss of the wife he loved that even his adopted daughter seemed a satisfying substitute for his dead wife. He had to fuck her, no matter what the consequences, no matter what the social taboos, no matter what the poor girl herself felt.

Carol felt the covers being lifted off her. She felt herself slowly being exposed to her father's drunken gaze. She was wearing pajamas but she felt naked lying there like that. As far as she knew, he still thought she was sleeping. Her heart began to race wildly. She felt herself on the brink of tenor, felt that she might scream at any minute.

She felt the man's alcoholic breath against the tender skin of her cheek. She almost fainted with fright when she felt his lips touching her cheek. It wasn't a tender kiss but a lusty one, a kiss that soon moved to her lips. Still she tried to feign sleep as she felt the man's lips sucking her own. She felt his tongue entering her mouth, slipping over her gums and tickling the inside of her lips. She felt the presence of his hot hulking body terribly near her. She hoped he would go no further in his explorations. Her hopes were in vain.

She felt his hand on her chest, rubbing against the smallish, developing swellings of her tits. His hand was hot and heavy against her body. She wondered if he could feel her heart beating wildly in her breast.

"I know you're awake, bitch!" the man grumbled. "You can't fool me! I've fucked so

many bitches I know what you're up to!"

Carol said nothing.

"C'mon! Open those fuckin' eyes?" he growled, slapping her hard on the face.

There was no pretending sleep now. Carol opened her eyes in honor and stared at her father. His face was twisted into a look of wild depravity. His eyes were no longer the eyes of her father but drunken bloodshot eyes, the eyes of a man possessed with devilish sexual desires. Carol could hold back no longer. She opened her mouth to scream, but before she could utter a sound her father clamped his heavy strong hand over her face, almost suffocating her.

"None of that, you little cunt!" he shouted. "You're gonna take what's comin' to ya!"

Carol squirmed wildly, her young tender body shaking and trembling with tenor, a terror she was never to forget.

"I know what you've been up to, bitch! I know you've been wantin' to get fucked for a long time! Ever since you killed your mother!" the madman shouted, holding his daughter fast.

Carol shook her head wildly when she heard him accuse her of killing her mother. Now she knew he was crazy.

"Yeah, you killed her! Don't deny it, baby! You're the one! She went out that night in the goddamn car to get you a bottle of cough syrup! Yeah, you remember, bitch! She got killed that night just because of you and your goddamn fuckin' cold! You could've gone after that fuckin' cough syrup your goddamn self! Sally was

splattered all over the fuckin' road that night! My Sally! Your fault, you stinkin' little cunt!" he cried, growing wilder by the minute.

Carol had never imagined that he felt that way about her. She had indeed thought back on the events of that terrible night but had never realized that he considered her mother's death to be her fault. And she knew that no sane man could possibly think her guilty of such a thing.

"I know why you did it, too, bitch! You've been after me! Yeah! You want my fuckin' cock! That's it, isn't it? You want me to fuck you with my big fat dick! That's just what I'm gonna do, too! Yeah! I'm gonna fuck you so hard you're never gonna forget it, baby! Eighteen! I'll pluck that goddam cherry, bitch! And if you give me any trouble, I'll break your back! Hear me? Hear me!" he shouted at the top of his voice.

With a quick motion the man tore a big strip off her blanket and wrapped it around her head, gagging her before she had a chance to scream.

"That'll shut you up, cunt!" he growled. "Now get ready for the treat of your fuckin' life!"

Carol screamed inside again and again. Her body twitched with tenor. She felt her father ripping her pajama bottoms away from her body, throwing the shreds over his shoulder. Her silken flesh was red in places where the cloth rubbed against her body, making marks as he tore it. In a flash she was naked from head to toe, naked and writhing in her bed, unable to utter a sound. She felt her father's heavy hand on her naked leg up near her thigh. He held her other leg, too, keeping her from moving.

She tried to kick him but he slapped her hard across the face every time she did so.

"Guess I'll start with a nice taste of that sweet little cunt Eighteen years old. Eighteen years old and already you're a murderin' little whore! I guess you're gonna like a tongue in your twat" he gasped, falling against her, burying his face in the soft flesh of her belly.

Carol thought she would die of fright when she felt her father's now ugly face pressing against the soft flesh of her belly. She felt his face move lower, felt his thick lips sucking at the lender skin of her lower stomach. His face was soon between her legs, his hands gripping her hips hard. He pulled her forward, pulling her naked squirming body close to the end of the bed. He fell on his knees at the foot of the bed. Carol felt his hands spreading her legs wide. His lips pressed against the lips of her tiny naked cunt.

Carol had never been so embarrassed in her life. She had never felt anything quite like the feeling that coursed through her young trembling body when he touched his lips to her nearly hairless cunt She felt a strange tingling deep inside her pussy, a tingling that remained only barely separated from the sensations of fear and loathing, a feeling that she had always associated with fear for the zest of her life. The strange tingling. tugging, healing sensation continued to build in her crotch as her father proceeded with his brutal rape.

She felt his hot wet tongue separating the firm young lips of her virgin cunt, felt his tongue tickling the extremely sensitive inner flesh of her

tiny twat. His tongue pressed into her pussy as far as it could go. The poor ravished girl could feel her father's hot moist breath against her crotch as he poked his tongue around inside her cunt.

The insane man began licking the crack of her cunt, his tongue lapping up and down her virgin gash, sliding over her barely fuzzed mound. He ate her pussy as if she were some nubile feast of flesh. She tried to struggle free from him but to no avail. Everytime she tried to throw him away from her he would slap her cruelly on the face. Her legs were already bruised where his rough powerful fingers dug into the flesh. Her crotch was sopping wet with the man's profusely flowing saliva.

"You like that, don't you, you hot little cunt?" he growled between her legs, as if addressing her pussy.

She shook her head negatively again and again, hoping against hope that he would gain control of himself before he hurt her any more, before he did any of the terrible things her aunt had warned her that men sometimes did to innocent young girls.

"You like that so much, bitch, I'm gonna give you a taste of this!" her father shouted at her.

The tall muscular man stood up and moved close to her, towering over the side of the bed. He stood with his hands on his hips. A huge, thick hard-on jutted out from his body at a ninety-degree angle. He had unzipped his pants while he was on his knees between his daughter's legs and had hauled out his swollen cock.

Carol had never seen anything like that before. She had seen young men' dicks many times, having been

shown such things by various young men in the neighborhood. She had even been talked into showing them her little twat from time to time. But she had had no idea in the world that a dick could get that big and hard. Her aunt had told her that such things could happen and that when cocks got hard like that some men would stick them into her cunt. She hadn't really believed her at first. Now she believed her and her tenor increased.

"You like that. Sure you do, cunt! That's what you've been wantin' for a long time. You want this goddamn cock up your fuckin' cunt! I've seen you lookin' at me kinda hungry like. Here! Taste it!" he growled, moving very close to her and rubbing the big purple head of his cock against his daughter's cheeks…