That night after their aunt and uncle had gone to bed, Mark and Stacy sneaked out of the house, looking for fun. Although the brother and sister liked their new adoptive parents, life with the Jordans was too tame for them.
Their father had died long ago, while they were still babies. Their busy working mother had never had time to supervise their activities. Early on, the mischievous teenager had invented this game of sneaking out late at night and finding unusual forms of entertainment.
“What are you going to do, Mark?” his sister asked when they were a safe distance from the house.
“Prowl a little,” said Mark. “Look in a few windows. You wanta come along?”
“No, I don’t think so,” said Stacy. “I’d rather see what’s happening at the movies. I’ll meet you back at the house.”
“Right on,” said Mark. “Happy hunting.”
The blond brother and sister had a code all their own. Their unspoken mission was to get it on with somebody. Both were very horny after a week with the Jordans and no action.
They parted, Stacy heading south toward the local movie house, Mark going north into the plush suburban neighborhood near the Jordans’. He had no worries about his little sister’s safety. He and Stacy had been through many hairy adventures together, and she knew how to take care of herself.
Mark slipped across someone’s lawn and into an alley. He strolled along silently in his sneakers, glancing in windows. He spotted a few uncurtained bedroom windows and observed some women undressing, some couples making love nothing special to Mark. He was an experienced peeper and rather particular about what he chose to watch.
Finally he found what he was looking for – an exceptionally attractive woman alone who had neglected to pull the shades in her bedroom.
Mark walked silently into the woman’s yard and got very close to her bedroom window, knowing she couldn’t see him while the lights were on. Hell, you could practically press your nose against the glass and they still wouldn’t notice you. The ones who left their curtains open somehow never expected to be watched.
The window was large, slightly open, so that Mark could hear the woman humming to herself as she sat at her dressing table brushing her long red hair. She was maybe thirty, very pretty, and stacked. Mark judged that she had tits almost as big as his Aunt Karen’s.
She was wearing an almost sheer beige negligee, and as she worked the brush through her luxuriant waist-length coppery hair, her large breasts rose and fell heavily. Through the thin material of her gown Mark could see the brown dots of her nipples.
Mark waited patiently, enjoying the show, knowing there was more to come. His experience taught him that his was a good victim. He noted the framed photo on her dressing table of a man in uniform – a husband in the service, stationed far away. Away, because no man in his right mind would sit watching TV when he had a woman like this in the bedroom.
The woman was alone, lonely, and certainly horny.
She set down the brush after a while and looked at herself in the mirror, no doubt wondering if her husband would still find her attractive when he came home on leave. She slid her hands under her heavy jugs and hoisted them, then let them drop and bounce. They were firm and pointed, and she smiled slightly.
That wasn’t enough, though. As Mark knew from experience, she would have to inspect herself all over.
The redhead rose and untied the belt of her gown. She opened the filmy garment and let it slide off her creamy white shoulders, let it waft delicately to the floor. Underneath she was wearing only a skimpy pair of black-lace bikini panties.
Mark caught his breath for a moment, admiring her large pointed tits. Size he judged, milky white, not a blemish on her. The nipples were large and brown and cone-shaped, not his favorite kind, but he wasn’t complaining. She had gorgeous big knockers.
Again she examined her tits in the minor, running her hands over them, making them quiver and bounce. She frowned critically. Her breasts sagged a little from their weight; maybe she thought she was getting old. Mark wanted to assure her that she was fine, just fine…
She turned round and round before the mirror, watching her own figure, tall and slim-waisted and long-legged. In Mark’s opinion she didn’t have a damned thing to worry about, but she didn’t seem satisfied. She patted her belly, touched her toes, and did a few knee bends, to make sure her body was still supple. Then she slipped her thumbs under the waistband of her panties and began pulling them down.
Mark stepped closer, breathing very softly. He felt the first prickle of interest in his balls and cock. He hoped he was going to get a good show.
The red-haired woman inched her panties down very slowly, watching herself in the mirror. She tried a few facial expressions and settled on a sexy little grin. Mark understood; she was practicing for when her husband came home.
Thrusting her pelvis forward wantonly, swaying her hips, she inched her panties downward provocatively, teasingly. The first springy pussy hairs came into view a few inches below her navel. Mark nodded approvingly – the hairs were coppery, the same color as her head. He disliked fakery.
More and more of her bright red muff appeared, a pouting puff of clean springy curls. Mark licked his lips. This was his very favorite kind of snatch, and he’d seen all kinds in the course of his peeping. He’d seen vast bushes, dainty triangles, scanty lines, but his favorite was the little round puff of fur like this woman had.
At last she got her panties down over the firm rounds of her butt, then quickly tugged them down her legs and stepped out of them, kicking them aside. She flaunted herself for her fantasy husband, poking her crotch forward, grinning, sticking out her tongue.
Mark felt his cock go hard. If she could put on a show of invitation like that, she must really be something in bed.
Suddenly, though, she seemed to sag, her face losing its animation, her hip action grinding to a halt.
“Oh, hell,” she said dismally.
She picked up the photo from her dressing table and looked longingly at her handsome husband. Then she sighed loudly and went over to the bed and lay down.
This was always a crucial moment for Mark. If she turned off the light, the show was over, his fun spoiled. He held his breath, waiting, hoping…
But she left the light on. It was a small bedside lamp, not very bright, but good enough for Mark’s trained eye. The redhead lay on her back, her beautiful copper hair spread out over the pillows, and in the gentle light of the bedroom she began to caress herself.
Mark felt his cock aching with hard excitement, weeping a little bubble of juice. It was too early to tell, but this might be one of the shows he liked best, watching a woman masturbate. This one certainly seemed ready for it.
She began with her breasts, stroking and cupping the big creamy cones, tweaking and rimming the nipples to make them hard and pointed. Her face flushed slightly and her breathing slowed, signs of mild pleasure. She kept glancing across the room at her husband’s photo, and Mark knew she was pretending that the guy was making love to her.
Presently she began to move one hand slowly down her sleek white body, moving timidly toward her coppery bush. Her breathing quickened, and her face got more pink. She touched her fluffy little muff at last, pressing and petting gently.
Mark leaned against the house, his face very close to the window, his heart starting to pound with excitement. This was going to be a really good show, he could tell. He didn’t like to watch experienced masturbators. He preferred women like this one who felt ashamed of the act but just couldn’t resist.
Timidly, blushing, she slipped a finger between the furry red lips of her muff and touched her clit. She shivered, sighed. Then she began to rub her starved little joy button, her eyes fluttering, her breath coming fast and excited.
Mark had started peeping when he was about eleven years old, started by accident when he happened to see a neighbor woman undressing. In the next five years he’d refined his technique to an art. He’d even added a variation that most peepers wouldn’t have dared try…
“Ohhh,” the woman sighed.
Her pale finger was zipping back and forth now, over her sensitive little clit, and she was getting really turned on. To Mark’s delight, she began to spread her long shapely legs, giving him a view of her pussy.
She drew her legs wide apart, then bent her knees. Mark saw her wet scarlet gash, plump healthy flesh fringed with delicate copper curls. He saw the tiny dark hole of her cunt mouth, oozing a little trickle of cream. Even her slit was gorgeous.
Moaning softly, the woman began inching her finger down toward the drooling mouth of her cunt. Mark waited, almost shivering with horny delight, waiting for her to stick that finger in there, frig herself – because when she started doing that, it would be time for him to act, time for that variation which ordinary peepers only dream of…
But something went wrong, something brought her back to reality. Just as she was shyly rimming the wet mouth of her cunt, she happened to glance at the window. She blushed hotly and jerked her hand away from her snatch.
Mark knew she couldn’t see him. She must have just now noticed that she hadn’t pulled the curtains. He grinned wickedly, thinking of her embarrassment. What if the neighbors had seen her, naked on her bed, frigging herself?
She got up quickly, big tits bouncing, and hurried over to the window. Mark braced himself for a slight change in plans. He hadn’t expected it to go like this, but he was ready.
She reached for the curtains on either side of the window, her tall lush body spread out before him – and Mark swiftly pushed the window up till it was wide open.
“Hi there,” he said.
The woman froze, gawking at him.
No doubt she was astonished to see a strange teenage boy coming in her window. Mark threw a leg over the sill and got in easily, gently moving the woman aside as he did so. Her skin was hot, silky. Again his cock strained in his jeans.
Quickly he closed the window and drew the curtains.
“There,” he said calmly. “No one can see us.”
She stood there, naked and gorgeous and astounded, still not believing that this was happening. Finally she found her voice.
“Wh-what do you want?” she said squeakily.
Mark grinned, miming his keen blue eyes appreciatively up and down her beautiful lush body. “Well,” he said, “I’m not after your money.”
“Oh, God,” she gasped.
She began to back away from him. Mark watched her, hands on hips, smiling mockingly. “Actually I came here to help you out,” he said. “Like that little job you were doing on yourself just now – I could do it for you, and a lot better.”
Her face flamed. “You saw?” she said in horror.
Mark grinned and nodded. “Yeah, I just happened to be passing by, and I thought, Well, there’s a lady in distress…”
“Oh, no,” she moaned.
She covered her face with her hands as if to hide her shame and Mark moved in. He crossed to her quickly, cat-like, and seized her around the waist, getting her over to the bed. Before she could react, he had her down on her back and was forcing her legs open.
She stared up at him in horror: “Oh, please,” she gasped, “don’t rape me.”
Mark frowned. “I ain’t gonna rape you, lady,” he said with disapproval. “I’m gonna make love to you. There’s a difference.”
“Oh, no, no,” she said desperately, “I couldn’t be unfaithful to my husband. I’ve never been.”
“He doesn’t have to know,” said Mark. “Listen, just relax and enjoy. You know you need it. I saw what you were doing… you’re horny, baby, and this is gonna feel just great.”
Again she blushed hotly, as if she wanted to die of shame. That excited Mark. He liked the inhibited ones, the women who had yet to be awakened. He grinned evilly at her, then thrust his face into her crotch.
“Oh, stop!” she gasped. “What are you doing? No, NO…”
She pushed at his head, trying to dislodge him, but Mark held her creamy hot thighs wide open and found his target, the tiny red dot of her clit. He stuck his tongue out and began flicking the tender little button with the rough wet tip of his tongue. He worked fast and with pressure.
“Ohhhh, God,” she gasped.
She fell back limp on the bed, and Mark felt a scalding rush of cunt juice soaking his chin. Good, good… If she couldn’t resist this, he was home free.
He circled and rimmed her tiny twitching clit with his experienced tongue, lashing the hot little bud, licking it, tickling it. He could feel the little organ swelling up tight and hard under his tongue, like a miniature cock getting a hard-on.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she moaned weakly. “That’s not nice… Filthy… You better stop.” Yet she didn’t try to push him away.
Mark chuckled. “What’s the matter, baby?” he said mockingly. “Didn’t your husband ever eat your pussy?”
She certainly was good at blushing. Her lovely face turned beet red. “N-no,” she stammered. “He never did anything like that.”
“You oughta teach him, then,” said Mark. “Feels great, don’t it?”
Before she could answer, he began tonguing her little red button again, working faster and harder now. She gasped, a mixture of shock and pleasure. She protested, yet couldn’t seem to bring herself to make him stop. Mark was sure he had her…
Rather than risk any rape charges, though, he took this time, courted her clit with his tongue. So far he hadn’t used force with her, and he wanted to keep it that way.
He pressed his lips to her squirting, erect bud and slowly sucked the tiny slick organ into his mouth. He tickled it with the tip of his tongue, bathed it with saliva, and then began sucking on it, a slow strong tantalizing action.
“Ooooo!” she howled.
Mark’s face was suddenly awash with her hot sticky cunt juice. She let her legs fall open wide and limp, no longer resisting in any way. The pleasure was too great for her, too unexpected and devastating. He had her, oh, Jesus, he had her…
But it would be a mistake to move too soon. He’d had some narrow escapes in the past when he’d been overeager, moving too fast from sucking to fucking. He remembered the woman in Oakland who’d brained him with the bedside lamp… Yes, he’d better go easy.
“Oh, God, ohhh,” the redhead whined.
Mark sucked steadily, strongly, on her hot little clit till she was whimpering and panting with pleasure. He didn’t bring her off, though. He wanted to keep her excitement at fever pitch, build up her need fill she was begging for his cock.
When he felt her arching her body, trying to come, he jerked his mouth off her twitching little bud and raised his head to look at her. She looked half crazy with pleasure and confusion, her face flushed and horny, her eyes glazed.
Good, good…
He dived into her pussy again, this time running his stiff wet tongue through the sensitive folds of her cunt lips, then rimming the soaked hair-fringed mouth of her twat. Mischievously he poked his tongue a little way into her fiery wet cunt, then drew it out.
“Oh, nooo,” she gasped, “you mustn’t do that… Isn’t right…”
But when he jammed his thick tongue up her cunt full force, she gave a howl of delight. He thrust his tongue into her as deep as he could, clear to the root, and began tongue-fucking her fast and rough. Her cream boiled out, drenching his face.
“Ohhh,” she howled. “OHHH…”
Again Mark brought her just to the edge of climax, then pulled away. He studied her carefully, and she seemed thoroughly conquered to him, gasping, her eyes rolling, breathing hard. She didn’t seem to know where she was, who she was, nothing except the fiery need in her cunt.
It was time to make his move.
While she lay there limp and dizzy, gawking at him, Mark took off his clothes. He grinned knowingly when her glazed eyes dropped to his erect prick. She stared at it, licking her lips. He knew he had an attractive cock, six fat inches of healthy rosy flesh. He let her study his dick, let her excitement build.
Always in moments like this he gave silent thanks to Mrs. Hazel Brown of Oakland, one of his early “victims”, who’d taught him everything he knew. He’d been a virgin, a normal peeper, not daring to do more than look. Mrs. Brown caught him looking in her window, and she taught him a lesson. Some lesson.
Hazel Brown, a buxom earthy woman in her forties, had taken young Mark into her bedroom and balled him. She taught him how to eat pussy, how to ball in every conceivable position. She thought it was funny, but to Mark it was an education, the key to all his later success. So he always thanked Hazel just before he made it with anyone else.
The redhead was still staring at his cock, but her expression was changing, as if she were coming back to reality. He’d waited too long. He moved quickly, scrambling onto her lush curvy body, poking his rigid teenage prick into the mushy hot flesh of her pussy. He jabbed around, trying to get in.
“No,” she gasped.She started crying, pushing at his broad young shoulders, trying to close her legs. Mark was securely in the saddle, wedged between her thighs, but he hadn’t found her cunt.
“Look,” he panted, “relax. I’m a good lay. You’re gonna love it.”
“Nooo,” she sobbed, “I can’t cheat on Rick. I’d never forgive myself.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Mark said disgustedly.
It was always the same story. They’d frig themselves, let him eat their pussies, but when it came time to ball, they went into this damned Faithful-Wife number. He was sick of it, had no patience with it. He grabbed her wrists painfully tight and forced her arms down to her sides.
“There,” he said, panting, “you can tell your darling husband you were raped. Now RELAX.”
She went on fighting, heaving her body around, trying to throw him off, but it was too late. Her pussy was wet, slippery, and Mark managed to slide his cock into the steamy little pit of her cunt mouth. He felt himself slipping into her, his cock sheathed in fiery slick flesh. He pushed hard, penetrating her fully in one rough thrust.
“Oooo,” she moaned.
She stopped struggling, and her deliciously tight box closed hungrily around his hard meat, nipping, contracting. Her eyes rolled crazily, then closed, and her little pink tongue crept out to lick her lips. Mark began to fuck her.
He moved in deep hard strokes, moved fast, not giving her a chance to collect her wits. She had a sweet box, scalding hot and very slick, but nice and tight as well. He looked down and watched his strong young prick moving in and out of her wet hair-fringed hole.
“Good for you, honey?” he asked huskily.
She blushed deeply and didn’t open her eyes. “Oh, please,” she whimpered, “take it out… Don’t make me do this… I shouldn’t…”
Mark laughed softly. “Yeah, but you dig it. You love it, and you know it. Hey, swing with it, doll, relax.”
She was still crying, still ashamed of her need, but she began to enjoy it in spite of herself. Her husband must have been gone a long time. Her cunt grew hotter and hotter around his jerking meat, and her cream poured out to puddle on the bed beneath them. She sobbed in ecstasy.
“Ohhhh, God,” she cried, “I can’t help it… Oh, Rick…”
Mark eased himself down on her then, flattening her big heaving tits with his chest. He used his strong-muscled legs to force her soft thighs even wider apart, so he could dig his hard dick right up to her womb.
She hesitated a moment, then gave way completely, throwing her long legs up around his waist, digging his body against hers, forcing his cock deep into her steamy, clinging cunt.
“Fuck meee,” she whined. “Ohhh, yesss…”
Mark slipped his hands under her cute round ass, holding her tight against him, and began to bang her as hard as he could. It was a brutal noisy near-rape, but she didn’t protest. Her head lolled back, her eyes rolled, and her mouth twisted into a horny little grin. She creamed furiously around him.
“Like it now, doll?” Mark panted.
“Oh, yes, YES,” she moaned.
He forgot about her then. The danger was over, she wasn’t going to push him away. He concentrated on raping her fiery wet tight box, digging his aching meat hard and fast in that satin, fleshy sheath. He felt her coming, felt her little slick cunt gripping his dick hard, but he only went on pounding her.
She might have come a few more times, he wasn’t sure, and then he gasped and shivered violently as he felt his come exploding into her. He never liked to linger after that. He got up quickly and put on his clothes.
The redhead lay limp and numb on the bed, her legs wide open just as he’d left them, jism leaking thickly from her bruised open cunt. She just stared at Mark, as if she couldn’t believe what they’d done.
He headed for the window, turning just long enough to grin at her. “You’re a real nice lay, baby,” he said. “Maybe I’ll come tack again sometime.”
She covered her face in shame.
Mark strolled home humming to himself, well pleased with his night’s work. It had been a perfect evening. He did a lot of peeping, but it wasn’t often that he scored. He’d really needed it, too, after a whole week with his new parents.
Christ, Bill and Karen seemed to think he was just a little kid or some kind of Boy Scout. They watched him all the time, expected him to be content with TV and swimming in the pool and sitting around bull shitting with the family. They didn’t know him at all.
Well, something would have to be done about that. Together he and Stacy would work something out, find a way to have more fun.
He wondered what his little sister had been up to that evening, what kind of adventure she’d had. Stacy was a wild one, and she’d pulled off some pretty weird stuff in the past. He quickened his pace, anxious to compare notes with his sister.
