A Family Sandwich

"Well, I hope he's not planning on staying forever!" Fran said, her lips pursing in a half-pout. The attractive 29 year old housewife was looking in her dressing table mirror, brushing her hair before going to bed. Her long blonde curls shone magnificently. Fran was proud that she had kept her looks and her figure so well since her erstwhile career as a model in New York. She hadn't modeled for very long, but she had been popular and all the photographers as well as the agency she'd been with had assured her that she had a splendid future in the business.

Fran had given it all up for Brint Cooper, however, a fact that she was beginning to regret more and more, especially recently. And now that Brint's unemployed brother was coming to live with them - heaven knew for how long - Fran was beginning to feel more trapped than ever.

She brushed furiously, letting the electricity the brush created snap and crackle around her head, her eyes reflecting the frustration and anger she felt at the course her life was taking. It had to happen now, too ... just when their daughter Jeanie was getting old enough to require less parental attention from Fran

... just when Fran was beginning to feel that she could breathe again. She'd been considering getting a job, something glamorous which would require her to go into New York fairly often, something which would allow her to escape from the dull Queens community of bored housewives and uninteresting husbands.

Now, of course, all her plans were ruined. There'd be another mouth to feed, more meals to cook ... and men were helpless in the kitchen, or at least she'd never met one who wasn't. Fran knew for a fact that Brint's younger brother was a spoiled brat, even though he was 20 years old by now, and she knew that he would expect to be waited on hand and foot, just as her husband himself did!

"Damn!" she cursed under her breath, feeling annoyed because she felt that Brint hadn't even heard her. He was in the bathroom running the water, brushing his teeth probably, and what did he care what she thought anyway? She banged the brush down on the table top and brusquely moved her chair back, all noises which she subconsciously hoped would reach her husband's ears.

Standing up, Fran took in the image of herself in the lovely long satin nightgown which she'd bought herself in Bonwit's during a secret shopping trip she'd made into the city. It was creamy beige and showed every single curve she had, including the soft uplift of her well-shaped, rounded breasts with their tiny nipples protruding saucily and, when she turned around, the soft dimpling of her lightly quivering buttocks, smooth yet pleasantly supple.

Yes ... it was still a very, very good figure, she reminded herself once more, even if the only person who got to appreciate it these days was her husband Brint! Instinctively, Fran struck a pose for her own benefit, remembering the cooing encouragement of the long-gone photographers. One of them especially would say such wicked things to her, things that made her respond exactly the way he wanted her to, and the pictures had turned out to be the best she'd ever taken. She still had them in her old portfolio and from time to time she took them out and looked at them. Sometimes, too, she would even think about the time that same photographer - Giuliano was his name - had gone farther than usual ... much farther ... and they had made long and passionate love right there on the floor amidst the tripods and the lights and the photo paper. God, it had been wonderful!

Fran still felt a twinge of guilt about it, even though thinking about it excited and pleased her so much that she could go through a whole day without getting depressed about the present boredom of her life. After all, she told herself, she had no reason to feel guilty. She'd been single at the time, even though she

was already going out with Brint ... Brint who was hounding her and pestering her to give up modeling!

"What's that for?" Brint said, coming out of the bathroom and into the large, comfortably furnished bedroom. He'd been looking at his wife's outrageous stance for some moments before speaking, and he felt he had to say something that would let her know just how ridiculous he thought she looked.

Fran jumped at the sound of her husband's voice and turned to face him defensively. "Can't you make some noise when you enter the room?" she asked. "I'm entitled to some privacy, you know ... I'm a person too." She was going to say more, but thought better of it at the moment. Nevertheless, Brint saw that she was in the mood for a fight, and coincidentally, he felt in the mood for one too. He'd heard her slamming things around in the bedroom, and the telltale signs of her anger had not been lost on him. He hadn't been married to Fran for over eleven years without beginning to understand some things about her anyway, even if many of those things were purely surface manifestations.

"Anybody who goes around striking idiotic poses in front of a mirror needs privacy!" he replied. "If you only knew what you looked like, you wouldn't do it!"

Fran's patrician, almost perfect features became transformed by her sudden rage. "I can see perfectly well what I look like!" she replied.

"Oh yeah ..." Brint scoffed, moving over to the bed, wearing only his pajama bottoms, his dark hair-covered chest bare as were his feet. His teeth were clean, and he felt at peace with himself, ready for a good fight.

"And for your information some of the world's best photographers have liked what they've seen ... and if I were still working, I'd make more money in a day than you do in a week!" Fran picked up the brush again and brandished it dramatically.

Brint slipped under the covers, his face composed in the most insolent expression he could manage. "Working at what? Screwing? I know those 'world's best photographers' - just the world's horniest cocks, if you ask me. I'll bet you miss it!"

"How dare you ... how dare you even dare say something like that!" Fran sputtered, thoroughly enraged, groping for a reply that would wipe that expression from Brint's handsome, even-featured face. "Besides, what about you ... you and that ... that whore you used to go out with! The bleached blonde with the bad legs. Besides, you might be wishing I were still working, since we're going to have your brother living with us! He eats like a horse, judging from the last time he came to dinner. I couldn't believe my eyes!"

Brint's face colored, the combined effect of Fran's insults to his old girl friend and his brother sending him into a near fury. It had all been very controlled up to now, and he'd been enjoying himself. Now, it was no longer a question of enjoying himself by getting Fran's goat ... he was legitimately angry with her.

The cords in his neck tensed as he spat out his reply. "You bitch! That whore I was going out with had better legs than you do ... plus she was a better piece of ass than you are!"

"Then why didn't you marry her? I'm sure we'd both be much happier! Why don't you look her up right now ... I'm sure she's working in the nearest whorehouse somewhere!"

Fran hastily began backing up as Brint jumped out of bed. She saw that she'd really gone too far, and regretted having brought the whole thing to this point. When her husband lost his temper she was really afraid of him, and she could see that he wanted to kill her now. He came toward her with his fists clenched, and Fran backed steadily toward the far wall.

"Let me alone ... let me alone, Brint!" she warned.

"You little cunt! You couldn't even get a job now if you wanted to - 29's about retirement time in the modeling business, ain't it?" He grinned evilly, certain that his reference to his wife's age had sufficiently wounded her to get even. He was right. He could see her crumbling inside as she backed against the wall, and he felt a moment of triumph. That would teach her to mess with him! An inexplicable surge of excitement, similar to what hunters must feel when they've made their kill, coursed through his body, and he realized that he had a huge throbbing erection. And he knew just what he wanted to do about it!

Fran sobbed, but refused to be cowed. She kept looking at her husband warily, but through tear-filled eyes. How she hated him! How she hated his guts! To think that she had stayed with him all these years

... borne his child, served him meals, taken care of him when he was sick, given him encouragement when he was having business problems ... and all for what? So he could talk to her like this ... humiliate her like this!

"Come here!" Brint growled. He let his eyes fall upon the open cleavage of his wife's nightgown. The creamy white curves of her naked breasts showed clearly, and he longed to touch them, to feel their soft firmness in his hands, to suck upon his wife's throbbing little nipples. She never failed to excite him, although for some reason he tried to keep this secret from her. He would take her surlily, brusquely, almost as though he didn't care, as if he didn't even like her sometimes ... when in reality he felt almost addicted to her great beauty, controlled by it in such a way, that he never wanted her to know it.

"No!" she replied. The disturbed young blonde could see the look in his eye, and the knowledge that he wanted her sent a sudden thrill racing through her. She felt a trifle stronger with the recognition that he was attracted to her, and she straightened up a bit as her young husband growled:

"Then take that nightgown off. What you need is a good fuck - that'll shut you up. That's what most women need!"

"That's what you think!" she replied testily. "For all you know about women!"

"Oh ... I know a thing or two," Brint replied. He hated it when she implied that there might be something he didn't understand about women ... something secret, impenetrable. It made him feel insecure, and when he was insecure he was at his nastiest.

He reached out for her and let his two hands plunder the softly yielding flesh of her breasts, sharply pulling down the straps of her satin gown so that she was naked to his fervent touching, his lascivious gaze. In spite of herself, Fran could feel the hot sparks of lust tracing from his fingers on the heated silk surfaces of her breasts to every part of her trembling body. She could feel her gown slipping all the way down and off, and temporarily willing to give up the fight she stepped out of it and stood completely naked, a pale-skinned goddess before him. She wanted to wield this power over him, to feel him ache with desire for her, to know that she was still beautiful ... that other men would think so too, even though she might not want to be unfaithful to her husband.

Take me, she thought, take me and none of this will matter ... Love me!

"Come ..." Gruffly, Brint led her to the bed and hurriedly untied his pajama string. His pants fell to the ground, revealing the heavy-veined hardness of his cock jutting straight out, quivering with anticipation.

Fran lay down on the bed seductively, waiting to feel Brint's hard throbbing masculine cock ... soon it would insinuate itself into her warm, waiting vaginal slit!

* * *

The little blonde girl padded barefoot down the hall. She'd often listened at the door of her parents' bedroom while they quarreled, but tonight she sensed with a feeling of impending excitement that something different was going to happen. With her unusually analytical brain, ten year old Jeanie had already decided as she sat with her ear to the door that her mother and father were in pretty bad shape

... psychologically at least. "Boy, do they need help!" she'd whispered to herself under her breath, and she'd put her ear back at the door to listen some more.

Jeanie went to a special school for "bright" children, although she herself insisted it was ridiculous to send her to such a place since she could do the same work herself at home easily. She intended to be a psychiatrist when she grew up, a state that Jeanie calculated she would reach in another two or three years. She carefully kept this from her parents though, since she didn't want them to suspect that she would be leaving home at that early age. It would be unfortunate if they tried to spoil her plans.

Now, as the sounds of shouting subsided, Jeanie pressed her ear still tighter against the door. There was one area in which Jeanie felt her education was sadly lacking, and her very fine instincts told her that if she listened carefully she might supplement her sketchy knowledge that very evening. Her father's voice drifted easily through the door of the frame house in which Jeanie had lived all her life, and the ten year old giggled inwardly as she heard him bellow out, "I'M GONNA FUCK YOU WITHIN AN INCH OF YOUR LIFE! NOW YOU SPREAD THOSE LEGS WIDE SO THAT I CAN GET MY COCK INTO THAT SNOOTY LITTLE CUNT OF YOURS!"

Inside the bedroom, never suspecting that her little daughter was outside the door listening intently to her intimate cries, Fran cringed. It was going to be one of those nights. Brint was in a terrible mood and nothing she could do would snap him out of it at this point. So unlike Giuliano ... Giuliano with the soft purring voice and the soothing hands, she thought.

Brint thought he was going to be in pretty rough shape if he didn't soon cram his heavily aching cock high up into his wife's tight little belly. Christ, she was gorgeous just lying there like that! Those tits of hers sticking straight up in the air were so tempting that he wanted to bite the goddamned tips off! And that silken cream-white skin and those angelic features of hers ... what a face ... and what a body! It drove him crazy to think that she'd ever made love with another man, and he intended to make certain now that she stayed his ... his woman ... his property!

Brint lay down roughly on top of his wife's nakedly exposed body, his lust-hardened cock nudging against the softness of her flat white belly, pushing into it so that she cried out in momentary pain.

"Brint ... can't you be gentle ... can't you?"

"You got to let me do it the way I got to do it!" Brint replied. He hated suggestions. Any indication that she wanted him to do something other than what he was doing made him feel insecure and angry. His voice was strained and heavy with desire for his voluptuous blonde wife who trembled beneath him, afraid now to get her hopes up about just what this sexual encounter would bring her in the way of actual pleasure.

Abruptly, Brint's hands found their way to her firm full breasts again, fondling and squeezing the ripely swelling mounds as he ground his tensed body nakedly against hers.

"Come on, baby ... come on! Loosen up!" he breathed into his wife's parted lips. Then he stopped, disgusted by her lack of response. "Oh come on! Get up on your knees! Roll over!" he commanded in a harsh voice, his hands roughly turning Fran around as he knelt back on the bed behind her. The young husband lifted his wife's nakedly unresisting loins, positioning her on all fours and holding onto her shapely hips with a firm grasp so that the full tantalizing whiteness of Fran's smoothly rounded buttocks

was placed temptingly up in the air.

The lovely blonde blushed fiercely, a mixture of anger and embarrassment taking hold of her as the desire she'd felt ebbed rapidly away. She felt like nothing so much as a huge life-sized doll, being manipulated into this lewd servile position! It was humiliating and awful and for a moment she recalled something her mother once told her:

"Men ... they're all animals ... nothing but animals!"

Fran had resisted believing this, but now in the face of her husband's terrible insensitivity to her needs, she could not help remembering her mother's words. A shudder went through her nakedly kneeling body as she realized that she was really like a slave, utterly at her husband's mercy. She knew that if she tried to stop him now he would accuse her of not satisfying his needs - even if he never said it, he would think it. God, she wanted to satisfy him, but not like this ... definitely not like this!

Her husband's breath was coming in great gasps behind her now and she strained forward, instinctively tightening her thighs together, the muscles in her lithe young body taut as she anticipated what he was going to do. His hands reached around beneath her hips and teased hotly at the softly swinging mounds of her breasts, cupping them upward and rolling the stiff little nipples between his fingers. In spite of herself, Fran jumped at the contact, her breasts had always been unusually sensitive and Brint always took full advantage of this fact. He continued rolling and teasing at their pearl-shaped tips while he shuffled forward behind her on his knees, the rigid tip of his cock pressing deep into the softly yielding crevice between her open buttocks.

"Ooooooh God!" Fran moaned helplessly, feeling it pulsing licentiously against her exposed flesh as she ground unwillingly back against it. His hands on her full breasts were beginning to drive her mad, and the excited blonde squirmed backward in an unwittingly erotic motion. She didn't want to enjoy this lewd performance, to lower herself to the level of a common slut before her own husband, but tiny electric shocks of unwanted pleasure were spiking out from her nipples and stabbing hotly through the rest of her nakedly quivering body with a lightning-like speed. Fran suddenly felt obscenely naked ... more naked, in fact, than she had ever felt before. Bits and snatches of the argument she'd just had with Brint returned to her mind, and she thought resentfully of the things he had said, especially the unkind reference to her age! And here she was now being exposed to that crude animal-like streak of his, the very thing about him that she had come to loathe! She felt his hands slip downward from her breasts, trailing hot lines along the trimness of her naked sides, encircling her narrow waist and then pausing to grip the tops of her soft white thighs, tightening his fingers and digging painfully into her sensitive flesh.

"Give me that hand!" he suddenly whispered.

"What?"

"I said ... your hand ... reach back between your legs and put your hand on my cock ... put it in!"

"Brint ... I can't ... don't ask me ..."

"Oh shit, Fran, come on! Reach behind and put it in!" he panted urgently.

Fran groaned, and finally in desperation and hoping to end the whole ordeal sooner, she reached back between her parted legs and closed her hand over her husband's hotly pulsating penis. It felt so big! Somehow it seemed bigger than she had ever known it to be, and even though she felt it must be her imagination, she still suspected that it might be true. Tonight would mark the turning point in their relationship in some manner ... tonight was different! She felt that she just couldn't take all of him inside her from behind like this. Usually they made love in the more normal positions, but sometimes Brint got

something crazy like this into his head. For a moment she thought of Giuliano ... he'd had unusual ideas too, but somehow with him it had all seemed normal and natural, not hideously demeaning like this.

"It's going to go in too far!" she gasped fearfully.

Brint ignored his wife's statement and squeezed his fingers at the top of her cringing thighs, a signal that he was just about fed up with waiting for her to comply with his wishes. After all, he thought, it wasn't often that he asked her to do something different. He squeezed again, this time bringing a slight whimper of pain and indignation from Fran's lips.

Tearfully, even bitterly she placed her husband's heavy, blunt-tipped cock-head against the tight elastic opening of her nakedly trembling cuntal slit. She bit down on her lower lip to keep from crying in earnest, but even so she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. Behind her, Brint's thickly probing cock began a slow, teasing grinding motion against her open vaginal lips, moving about in such a fashion that he exposed the hidden moisture up between them and forced the quivering lips wide open with a heavy inward pressure.

"Oooooooo!" Fran cried, her fingers still holding tight around the invading thickness of her husband's lust-swollen cock.

"OOOOOooo God!" she groaned out again through tightly clenched teeth. It was forcing its way up inside the fearfully resisting ring of her cringing vaginal passage, moving steadily inward, the harsh determination of his cock stretching the tender hair-fringed lips of Fran's widespread pussy until she could feel the full blood-engorged thickness slithering almost unimpeded up into her warmly pulsing passage.

The huge bulbous head of his penis was pushing the pink inner flesh of her helplessly open cunt along in front of it in tiny rippling waves, each ripple causing Fran an acute discomfort that made her moan out loud.

"God, darling ... not like this!" she pleaded. "Let me turn over ... let me turn over now ... on my back," she cried.

But it was no use. Her fingers now locked tightly into the crumpled bedsheet before her as she tried to maintain some kind of balance, some kind of dignity in the face of what was being done to her defenseless body. She could hear Brint panting like a wildly excited male animal behind her, and she couldn't help thinking of a dog ... a big, frightening dog attacking her sexually! He was pressing his hips heavily into her upthrust buttocks, his hard advancing cock driving deep, deep into her open vaginal mouth, impaling her cruelly from behind.

Fran's lips opened and closed in helpless torment. Her whole nakedly kneeling body trembled in helpless humiliation. It was horrible! It felt as though he had penetrated much farther than was healthy or normal. She moaned and turned her head into the already damp sheet beneath her, breathing a staccato rhythm into the bed. Her heart pounded wildly and wisps of her blonde hair clung to the moist flesh of her cheeks as well as her neck and naked white shoulders.

She would leave him ... she could never live with a man like this ... take this kind of treatment ... listen to his degrading words! She'd go and get work again ... she knew she could ... she'd show him! She'd make him crawl to get her back!

But these resentful thoughts didn't continue much longer. The teasing ravishment of her widespread pussy was beginning to be too much for the distraught young wife. Instead of pounding into her as she had thought he would, Brint changed his tactics and began to fuck his desire-hardened penis in a teasingly

slow rhythm, churning and flexing his long hard cock piston-like inside her moistly clinging vagina.

"AH!" she gasped. "Don't stop ... don't ever stop!"

Excited by his wife's growing arousal, Brint began to fuck more and more intensely in and out of the tightly clasping, throbbing pussy that now welcomed his penetrating cock. He had an outrageous feeling of power ... of absolute manliness! With longer and harder lunges, Brint buffeted up against Fran's now hotly grinding buttocks, his spear-like penis disappearing each time into the utmost depths of his beautiful, slavishly kneeling wife's now hungrily accepting little belly.

"OH CHRIST BABY, IT'S GOOD!" he cried, his thick fingers gripping harder around the nakedly straining thighs that had appeared in so many bathing suit ads, feeling the soft unresisting flesh giving way beneath his pressuring. Brint could feel his impossibly hard cock growing tighter and stiffer with each brutal thrust, and low grunts of pleasure emanated from deep in his throat. She was really with it tonight ... tonight his wife's hot little cunt was really getting it ... he was fucking her where it counted!

Kneeling before him, Fran struggled helplessly with her passion and the almost overwhelming feeling of shame that alternated with it. She thought that she had never before felt her husband so deep inside her, and she was unable now to control the passion surging through her involuntarily writhing body.

Brint pressed slowly outward with his thumbs to stretch the softly undulating moons of his wife's naked white buttocks wider apart, watching the pink wet folds of her unresisting blonde hair-trimmed cunt as they clung tightly around his rampaging cock. He knew that he'd never fucked her this deep before, and somehow he reveled in the fact. It was a milestone in their marriage, a point for him in their relationship. Maybe she'd calm down a little after this!

Grinning triumphantly to himself, he levered his pelvis forward, lifting himself up a little and letting the hard plunging shaft of his deeply skewering penis slip finally into the last remaining inch of Fran's vaginal sheath, feeling the over-stimulated tip of it sink all the way back into her openly accepting pussy.

Then, grinding his hips tightly up against the smooth quivering flesh of her buttocks, he rotated the thickly probing head around deep up inside, enlarging even more the tightly enclosing passage of her cunt until he suddenly felt his wife go to pieces beneath him. She squeezed the petal-like lips of her hotly clenching cunt elastically around the base of his heavily tingling cock, sending tiny pinpricks of lewd sensual delight shattering through his heavy, sperm laden testicles. Pulsing with untoward pleasure, his lustfully throbbing penis felt at home in the snug wetness of Fran's tightly encasing pussy. Fran opened and closed her eyes, lost in a daze of sudden all-consuming passion. Unmindful now of her lewd, servile position, she spread her eagerly welcoming thighs still wider apart, moving her knees way out on the bouncing bed. The excited young blonde could feel her breasts pressing erotically down into the crumpled sheet beneath her. She could feel their nipples hard and erect as she was buffeted forward along the covers by each advancing thrust of her husband's tirelessly pistoning cock. The smooth rubbery head of his penis grated teasingly against the tip of her cervix, creating a mindlessly rising joy within her that she never wanted to stop. Nothing mattered now but the incredible sensation of wild ecstatic pleasure coursing through her nakedly responding body. Never would she have dreamed she would respond in such a crude manner, but now she found she actually wanted to be taken this way ...

wanted him to have complete control of her body. It was a welcome release, a release that made her realize that she was suddenly and uncontrollably cumming, her crazily convulsing cunt pulsing with a lust-consuming fire.

"I'm there ... OH GOD, BRINT! I'M THERE!" she cried out, lifting her head so that the tendons on her neck stood out taut and tight. Behind her Brint gritted his teeth and let his heavy body drop hard down onto her, mashing her onto the bed but holding her desperately grinding loins back up at a high angle to

his still thrusting cock. Like a madman, he plunged into her waiting pussy, making his wife cry aloud again at his force.

"Yeah ... yeah ... Give it to me! Give me your cum!" he cried. The huge fleshy hardness of his speeding penis moved ever upward as his sperm-bloated balls smacked heavily into the wetness of her widespread hair-lined cunt. Together they ground nakedly against each other, his driving penis slithering up to be devoured completely within the tight confines of Fran's wildly climaxing pussy. The hot wet walls of Fran's golden cunt clasped and unclasped, milking hungrily and desperately at his lust-maddened cock as she groaned out her pleasure. Brint could feel his semen beginning to spurt forward, his cock becoming a burning hot shaft of ecstatic sensation.

"AAAAAAAAAH! GOOOOOOOOD! GOOD PUSSSSSSSY!" he grunted lewdly, feeling his wife's orgasmic juices gushing wetly around his powerful cock, meeting his own and flowing down the full length of the throbbing hardness to trickle onto the swaying sac of his rapidly emptying testicles.

Fran was whimpering and squirming, her body hot with perspiration beneath her husband, relishing and delighting in the filling sensation of Brint's powerful squirts of white male cum.

"Oooooohhhhhh, Brint, Brint!" she cried. She was being drained of everything, she thought in one brief flash, her pride included. But God, it was good ... so very good!

As Fran lay spread-eagled beneath her dark-haired young husband, face down, lying on her sperm-flooded belly, she felt his heavily perspiring nakedness lift off her. Her legs were wide open and drenched with cum, and beneath her on the bed she could feel a disconcerting pool of wet stickiness. Her blonde hair was a tangled mass around her head, but inside she felt an unprecedented contentment

... a reaffirmation of her power as a woman ... a feeling that if she could inspire such an emotion-packed and powerful act, she could perhaps do anything, anything she wanted to do! She lay quietly breathing, listening to the sounds of her husband moving about in the bathroom. She wanted to think more about it all, about her new state of mind ... but she was so exhausted that she could feel sleep rapidly advancing upon her.

There would be plenty of time to think things through tomorrow ... plenty of time!

Fran felt herself lapsing into a contented sleep. To think that she had been so filled with hatred for her husband such a short while before, and all because of that silly business about his brother coming for a visit. It seemed to her suddenly that it wouldn't be at all as bad as she was making it out to be. Perhaps she could even turn her brother-in-law Morgan's arrival into something beneficial for her! The tingling pleasure that still pervaded her loins colored her mental state, and feeling nothing but optimism for the future, Fran fell into blissful unconsciousness.

* * *

"Whew!" Little Jeanie got up from the floor of the hall, her knees aching from the long moments she'd been in one cramped position crouched before her parents' bedroom door. It seemed to her that her ear was burning so much it might fall off, and as she wandered in a trancelike state back to her own room, the precocious ten year old muttered odd snatches of sentences to herself. Her slight, youthful body was trembling as she entered the privacy of her room and headed toward her own bed.

"If only I'd known ..." she said to herself, "that they had that between them. Why, it explains ... it explains everything!"

Dreamily, Jeanie undid the robe she wore over her white nightgown and jumped into bed, pulling the covers up over her blonde head. Beneath the sheets she was aware as if for the first time of her own

pubescent body, aware of the subtle changes that had just started within her, changes that now made more sense than ever before! The tiny swellings of her breasts, so sore to the touch and tender, did not seem so much of a bother as before, and now she understood why her mother had expressed surprise at noting that she was "developing early". Most of the girls in her class didn't have any breasts at all yet, except for Cindy, of course, who already wore a brassiere.

Over and over again the young girl repeated the phrases she'd heard her mother and father utter during the throes of their passion together. It was as if they were magical chants ... magical in the sense that they would bring the same obvious pleasure and excitement to Jeanie herself. And this, she knew now, was what she wanted more than anything else in the world. She wanted to experience the same ecstasy that her mother knew, to invade the secret world of sexuality that all adults kept as private knowledge from children! There would be no more of that!

"Oooooh don't stop ... don't ever stop!" she mimicked her mother, softly cooing to herself and feeling an undeniable thrill deep within her soft, untouched ten year old belly. Somehow Jeanie knew that life would be more worthwhile from now on ... life would be worth living!