I discovered last night while looking through my step daughters phone that she likes to look at daddy, daughter porn as well as forced sex porn. This just drove me wild as I looked at her sleeping. I know its a fantasy but I have to wonder if there is any chance. Maybe she wants dad to force ably take her. She is 17 and in a text to a boy she confessed to having sex with two different guys 9 total. I've wanted her for years and almost tried once or twice but she told mom she thought I was trying and almost cost my marriage so I'm scared to try again. She was much younger then though so maybe sex scared her and now that she is older its fun.

The Freudian Slip
An erotic, mostly true story (names omitted) of finding the love of my life.

It was my first marriage, but she already had a child when she was a teen. I met her when I was 35, she was 33 and her daughter was 18. She dedicated her life to her daughter and finally when her daughter turned 18, she decided it was time to slow down and find someone special. The honeymoon didn’t last that long in our marriage. I was always ‘too sexual’ for her, always ‘groping her inappropriately’. The final straw was when I found some emails and a text message about how she liked sucking on his dick before he stuck it in her ass. I was a broken man for a long time. I invested myself into my ex-wife 1000%. Her daughter was very beautiful, and I never even once hit on her, or made any moves.
After much therapy, I came out the other end ok. It’s been 15 years and I’m 50 years old now. Sometimes I’ll have anxiety, so I’ll go through my insurance and find a therapist or counselor. My insurance recommended a woman and I called to make an appointment. It took about a week, but the day came and I went to her office and low and behold it was my ex’s daughter (step daughter). She was a bit shocked to see me. She said she saw my name but she was sure it was someone else. She had beautiful long brown hair, nice hourglass figure, brown eyes and soft supple breasts seemingly not strapped in by a bra. She blushed, she knew I was looking.
“It’s been a long long time, dad. What have you been up to? What do you want to talk about today?”
“Well I don’t know how this works, perhaps this is a conflict of interest – because sometimes I think I have PTSD because of what happened between you and your mother. I’ve been ok I guess. Well obviously not perfect, because I’m here…”
“Oh, tell me more…” She said, looking me in the eyes. I shied away, looking down at the floor.
“Don’t be nervous, you can tell me anything.”
“I’ve never been married since your mother left me, I just didn’t want to be hurt again. I feel my life is just bland but I also don’t want to go through the physical and mental pain again.”
“Physical pain?” she asked.
“Depression, when I’m depressed my body aches horribly.”
“Understandable. So I’ll be honest with you, when I moved out and after she did that to you I broke contact with her,” she said still looking at me in the eyes, she smiled, “she ruined her own life to be honest, and she did her best to ruin yours too.”
I looked at her confused, “what do you mean she ruined her life?”
“Take a deep breath, dad.” She laughed, “Can I call you that?”
“Yes, of course. You never got to know your own biological father, so of course you can call me dad.”
“Good, we’re on a Freudian path” she laughed, then continued, “Dad listen, the guy she left you for had her hooked on some bad things. I was away at school and she was smoking meth and crack. The last time I saw her she was at a clinic and had track marks all up and down her legs from heroin usage. You dodged a bullet. She’s tested positive for HIV, and a bunch of STDs – probably from whoring herself out to get drugs. So I couldn’t handle being around her anymore so I cut ties with her. And I found it awful that she did that to you. You were always so nice to her, to me. You expressed your love in so many ways and she shit all over you. I looked up to you, always thinking that when I find a guy or girl that I’d want someone like you. Hell, when my mom met you I had a major crush on you. In a lot of ways I wish you would have kept in contact but I do understand the emotional trauma of what she did pushed you away. I did kind of stalk you, you’re pretty easy to find on Google, so I kept track of you but kept my distance because I didn’t want to remind you of the trauma mom had caused you and me too.”
I didn’t know what to say, it was a lot to take in.
“I just don’t know what to say, that’s horrible what happened to her,” I said, feeling a little bit of peace that the bitch was getting dragged through the sewer like the cunt she was.
She put a hand on mine, “It’s ok dad. You probably feel a lot of rage and anger and that’s why you’re here.”
I looked into her eyes and I melted. She absolutely was putting on the moves.
“Tell you what,” she said, “My last appointment is at 7:30 PM, so why don’t we catch up over some coffee? You’re a coffee drinker, right?”
“Uh, yeah absolutely.”
So I made plans to meet her after she got off at a well-known coffee shop (Starbucks). I was a bit worried that I was taking her kindness wrong, that I was mistaking it for being interested in me.
I got her cell number and left.
On my way to Starbucks she texted me, “What kind of coffee do you want? Already here – I got this round!”
So I texted her I just wanted the house coffee with cream and sugar.
She was sitting at a table with her laptop and I approached her and sat down.
She looked up and smiled, and then gestured around her, “look at all of these nosey people who can’t mind their own business when an attractive looking man sits down near a younger professional female. That’s human psychology, always judging, always making shit up in people’s heads.”
I laughed, “well, they have dirty minds then – forget them. How have you been all these years? You look absolutely stunning, and I’m not saying that out of turn – just letting you know you’ve grown into a very fine woman!”
She blushed, “And how does that line go…” she thought for a second, “you sir, have aged like a fine wine.”
I laughed, “you’re totally hitting on me.”
“I’ve got daddy issues, daddy. Seriously, my mother doesn’t know who she lost. I’ll be honest, I’d take pictures of you and masturbate to them, I had such a huge crush on you. You’d get my panties soaked just by giving me a hug, and well – just being around me, can confirm, you still do.”
My anxiety started to kick in, “is this a joke?”
“Absolutely not. I was so jealous of my mother, I wanted you so bad.”
My dick was getting hard.
“Yeah but you probably have someone special now, and I don’t want you to be unfaithful to them.”
“No, I’ve had a few girlfriends, but nothing serious at all. I’m a single girl enjoying my freedom. I didn’t charge you for the session today. I won’t ever charge you, ok?”
“So you’re a lesbian?” I asked.
“No, I swing both ways,” she laughed and spilled a little bit of her coffee.
“Yeah but I was your father for a few years and …”
“That’s what makes it so hot, you literally are my Freudian sexual fantasy, that step dad that every girl wants to fuck but never gets to fuck and here you are… and well, perhaps this pussy still has a chance?”
I was done talking, I haven’t had sex in years, “It absolutely does.”
We went back to my place, I was nervous as hell.
She unzipped my pants and pulled my cock out, “mom lied, she said you had an ugly little dick – this is a thick monster.”
Her lips wrapped around the head and she started sucking. I felt her open her mouth wider and I was in the back of her throat.
She unbuttoned her shirt and pulled her bra off revealing her beautiful breasts, looking up into my eyes as she continued to suck me.
“Daddy, I want you to be bad….” I pulled my shirt off, she caressed my chest and her lips stopped sucking, and she kissed me on the lips, and then let her tongue work its way back down to my throbbing cock. She pushed me down on the sofa, and started going to town on my dick with a passion I’ve never seen before. With her mouth full of my throbbing meat, she’d moan. I felt like I was going to cum, and pulled her head off of my dick.
“Mmmm, daddy likes my mouth,” she said erotically, “wait until daddy’s dick get’s a taste of his daughter’s tight little pussy…”
“You’re a bad girl,” I whispered to her.
“You have no idea daddy, I’ve been a very bad girl.” She moved her naked body across mine, I could feel her soft warm breasts gliding on my skin. Her mouth enveloped mine, her tongue jutting inside my mouth and I could taste her sweet saliva. Her hips swiveled, teasing the head of my cock with her dripping wet pussy. She knew exactly what she was doing.
“Mommy never wanted me to have a dick this good, daddy,” she said as she pushed down on my cock, taking all of me inside her wet, tight hole.
“Make me a good girl, daddy I’ve been so fucking bad!”
I smacked her ass with my hand hard, “Watch your mouth, you know better than to swear around me!”
“Oh yess daddy! I’m so sorry daddy, it’s just that your dick feels so fucking good in me.”
I spanked her again, even harder as her pussy massaged my cock. I grabbed her beautiful tits and licked her nipples. I felt her body tense up, her pussy locked on to my cock – all of her muscles tightened and she let out a scream and began bucking wildly.
“Oh fuck daddy, daddddy your cock is so good I’m cumming.”
I felt a flow of warmth dripping down my balls as she collapsed on top of me.
I held her tightly and kissed her forehead as she panted, I could feel her pussy muscles convulsing in pleasure around my hard dick.
She whispered, “daddy, I always wanted to taste your cum…”
She got up and knelt between my legs and started stroking my cock, then licking it with her tongue.
Her lips gently kissed the tip of my penis, and then she swallowed it. I could feel my balls tightening up, and she cupped them in one hand and stroked my cock with the other as she blew me.
I called her name, “I’m going to cum.”
She didn’t relent, she quickened her pace, sucking harder, stroking faster. I emptied my balls in her mouth. Pulsating over and over, cum sprayed into her warm wanting mouth. I could feel her gulping down each ejaculation as I lost complete control of my body. I grabbed her head and pulled her lips down to the base of my cock and kept coming in the back of her throat. She swallowed it all.
We decided to date, and after a few years we tied the knot. Some people might be wondering about the legalities, but I never legally adopted her. My ex-wife and I were only married for about 3 years. My “stepdaughter” moved out when she was 19, almost 20 – but she always treated me with respect and we were pretty good friends. The last we heard, my ex moved to another state, and she might have passed on from a drug overdose. Neither my new wife, nor I want to research it or find out. I guess that's what prompted me to write it on Motherless. She's Motherless - and has been for a long time it seems.
Anyhow: That’s how I met my second wife. We have a lot of fun, and we’re extremely in love and she’s pregnant now. She’s due in 3 months! Everything happens for a reason. Sometimes you have to walk through fire – but understand that things will eventually get better, it just might take some time.
No, that picture isn’t her – I chose it because it looks like her (so much so that it could be her twin lol).
We still do daddy daughter role playing! I’m also ok with her having some fun with women if she wants but she chooses not to.
“You fulfill my fantasies, daddy.”
Real? Fake? I don't really care if anyone believes it - I just needed to vent.
Peace.

Before I told my older boyf about sex with my step dad when I was young (which I enjoyed) we didnt talk fantasy much. Now he's hot all the time and thats great but he wants me to tell him all about it and we role play daddy daughter, we both enjoy that. He gets SO HORNY when I tell him my past but now I'm worried he's going to go off me if he realised he prefers young girls. I'm 23 and he's 42 - do you think I'm young enough for him to stay interested in me? We are getting into sharing and group stuff which is also cool but I'm worried he'l get bored and want a real life young girl.

Also, a stupid thing is that I have barely kept in touch with my step dad and now my boyf is suggesting we should go and visit him. I love the sex but I worried things are getting a bit out of hand. What should I do?

This is the story of a spoiled teenage coed who is
forced to accompany her parents on an African safari.
She becomes separated and is kidnapped and abused by
jungle savages and other nasty sorts. There is no real
violence... aside from the rapes, non-consensual sex
and bondage, that is.

AFRICAN DRUM'S - Part 1

Kristen had whined the entire week before they
left. She had whined and sulked during the plane flight,
and was now whining, sulking, pouting, and occasionally
snarling. Going on an African safari, far from chili
dogs, pizza, MTV, and her friends, was not her idea of
a holiday.

For once, though, her parents had held firm. They
intended that this would be a good old fashioned family
holiday, and were determined to enjoy it if it killed
them, and her. No amount of whining, cajoling and beg-
ging had managed to sway them.

Thus she was now standing on the runway in a
baking heat, watching her father wave forlornly at bag-
gage handlers who zipped by as if he were invisible. It
was little wonder, what with the enormous amount of lug-
gage sitting beside him.

Kristen herself was very far from invisible to the
baggage handlers, as well as all the other bemused,
astonished and wondering Africans within sight. If she
noticed the stares, she gave not sign. She was, after
all, used to be stared at, though not in quite the same
way.

She was, as she well knew, a lovely, even stunning
young woman. Her development had started early. Even
when she was eleven years old, her physical maturity
was such that she was taken for a girl several years
older. She'd learned quickly that the men who looked at
her so closely could be manipulated in a variety of ways
to her benefit.

At eleven, that merely meant cooing and blinking
her eyes. By twelve she was wearing tight or revealing
clothes and positioning her body in such a way that
older boys and even grown men would groan and flash
carnal visual images in their minds.

By the time she'd turned thirteen, she was an
expert at manipulation, at controlling and maneuvering
men, using their weakness for her nubile teenage body
to make soft jelly of their hearts and minds, and hard
steel of their prongs.

She'd lost her cherry before entering high school,
to a handsome teacher who'd responded by changing her F
to an A. Usually she didn't have to actually sleep with
them of course. A little cooing and sultry whispers,
combined with a kiss or two sometimes did it.

For more difficult cases, she'd casually rub her-
self against them, or let them cop a feel of her boobs,
or crotch, and sometimes even jerked them off.

She'd gotten great grades in High School without
having a particularly nimble mind, or studying hard.
Others wondered about that, but as a leader of her peer
group in school, few openly questioned her methods for
academic achievement.

It was the same in college. She'd started just
this year, and had found the college professors even
more willing to come under her sway. The high school
teachers had the added worry, first of arrest, and
even after she passed the age of consent, of firing,
if caught with her.

College teachers didn't really have to worry
about that. Affairs between students and teachers
weren't unusual. They could freely make use of what
she offered in exchange for good grades, and not worry
about consequences.

Now, as she stood on the runway, clad in her
tight short shorts and her purple tank top that was
cut off just below the breasts, she was the near
perfection of a sexual creature. She didn't even have
to try and pose anymore. Any position she took could
automatically bring males organs to erection.

Her body was that of a goddess, perfect in it's
Ivory Whiteness, gleaming with health. There was not a
pimple, mole, or freckle anywhere on it. She was tall
and effortlessly graceful, her movements that of a
ballet dancer.

Her breasts were large enough to cause double
takes, but not large enough to detract from the perfect
symmetry of her shape. They were high and perfectly
round and of a firmness few young women ever achieved,
even during arousal. Her nipples were tiny pink nubs in
the exact center of each breast, which, when hard,
lengthened to an almost unnatural length, standing out
hard and ultra sensitive.

Her legs were the kind that made men run into
poles, so transfixed were they by the long gleaming
contours of her perfect thighs, shapely calves and
sweet and lovely knees.

Her ass would have won awards if such were given,
and if she had ever deigned to enter any contest. It
was the perfection other women longed for, had opera-
tions for. Not an ounce of fat, not a hint of imper-
fection marred her sweet and sumptuous buttocks. They
were more perfect in their shape when she slouched in
her sneakers than most women achieved in six inch heels
and tightly shaping pants and jeans.

Her face was the profile of delicate loveliness.
Her eyes were wide and bright, bright blue. When she
wanted, they were the eyes of an appealing child.
Within an instant they could turn sultry and wanton.

Her nose was a mere button, a little snub thing
that made the women sigh and smile. Her mouth was nar-
row and luscious, her lips full and sensuous, her teeth,
brilliant white perfection. Taken as a whole, her face
was enough to make grown men and women weep, the men
with regret, that they would never know her intimate
acquaintance, the women with amazed jealousy.

Her hair was the perfect frame for such a won-
drously sculpted visage. It was chest long and as
feathery soft and fleecy as the finest silk. At the
same time, it was luxuriously thick, cascading around
her head and splashing over her shoulders and down her
chest and back like a lustrous waterfall halted in mid-
fall.

All of these taken together drew lustful and en-
vious stares and gasps wherever she went, and contri-
buted to what was, admittedly, more than a hint of
arrogance, haughtiness and vanity. Being rich always
tended to draw people into immodesty. Being rich as well
as stunningly, dazzlingly, ravishingly, gorgeous, gave
her an ego hard to reign in, even on those odd occasions
when she tried.

Of course, her luscious silhouette and mouth
watering face were not the only reason she was drawing
stares at the moment. The main point of attraction
for the Africans was her hair, which was a bright, but
not unattractive shade of pink.

If she had been aware of the amusement, or con-
fusion her hair color was causing, she would have simply
sniffed about the crudeness and lack of sophistication
of the watchers, utterly certain that wherever in the
world she happened to be, whatever she happened to be
wearing was THE height of fashion, and that included
hair coloring and style.

She was not aware of the bewildering looks though,
since all her attention was focused on herself, and the
unhappiness and uncomfortableness she was presently
feeling. These were not things Kristen was normally
forced to contend with.

Seldom in her short life had she been refused any
pleasure, comfort or want, however fleeting or tran-
sitory. Everywhere she went she was granted boons
favors and generosity. At home, her slightest wish was
her parents most important demand. Nothing was denied
her.

Of course this went a long way to explaining her
self indulgent nature, her selfishness and vain outlook
on life. Kristen was about as spoiled as any human
being that walked the face of the earth, and as shallow
as a dried river bed.

Though she was far from stupid, an original
thought had never crossed her pretty little mind. She
followed the dictates of her social group to the
letter, her every move governed by whatever happened to
be "IN."

Now here she was sweating, SWEATING! In a sauna
that was permissible, but out in the open, in her
clothes, it was utterly intolerable.

"Dadddeeeeeeeeee," she whined. "Can't we go in-
doors where it's air-conditioned?"

"The building isn't air-conditioned sweetheart.
It's hotter than out here," he replied.

"Not air-conditioned?" She was truly amazed. In
her experience all buildings were air-conditioned. What
kind of a place was this?

"Ahhh, here comes our driver I think," her father
sighed with relief.

Kristen turned to see a boxy looking car racing
towards them in a cloud of dust. She squinted her eyes
against the sun, then put her hand over her mouth as
the thing drew up in front of them, hurling small
pebbles and dirt all around.

"You Charles Taylor?" a voice demanded.

"I am."

"Righto."

A figure jumped out of the box and moved around to
stand in front of them. Kristen looked up in disgust.
The man was in his early thirties, tall, with coarse
dark hair and weathery tanned skin, he wore a cheap
brown short sleeved shirt and dark green pants tucked
into boots, not even designer boots.

He was sort of handsome, in a rugged, cowboy type
way, with a thick, barrel chest and enormous, biceps.
His hands were big and rough from work, and his chest
hair curled out through the half open shirt. Kristen
wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"Pleased ta meet yah." The man said, holding out
his big hand at Taylor. "I'm Joe Steel."

"How do you do?" Charles said, shaking hands.
"This is my wife Lucy..."

"Charmed." Lucy said, waving her hand back and
forth in front of her face to stir a little breeze.

"And my daughter Kristen."

"Hi there Kris." he grinned, his eyes sliding
quickly and appreciatively up and down her body.

"Kristen." she said, stiffly, glaring in reproach.

It didn't do to let the help become to chummy to
begin with, and nobody dared call her Kris.

With no further delay Joe had begun hefting their
bags one and two at a time, and tossing them into the
rear of the "Rover" as he called it. He showed not
even a hint of effort at the heavy bags and was quickly
done, whereupon he jumped into the drivers seat to
await them.

Charles held open the rear door and Lucy and
Kristen carefully stepped in.

"Don't you have air-conditioning?" she complained.

"You're joking?" He laughed. "Air-conditioning!
What a laugh!" He then proceeded to laugh, long and
hard, before stomping on the gas pedal. The three pas-
sengers were thrown back against the weakly padded
seats as the Rover bumped and bounced across the dirt
field and out through the airport gate.

In a short length of time, they were driving
through an incredibly dirty and tacky looking excuse for
a city, with hordes of Black people wandering around
aimlessly and shrieking in some ugly foreign language
that Kristen knew wasn't French or Italian, the only
two acceptable languages other than English.

"How far is the hotel?" She grumbled.

"Hotel? We ain't goin' to no hotel, gorgeous.
We're heading right for the jungle. We'll pick up the
rest of the gear in Bankoland, then head inland."

"You mean we'll be traveling in this?!" she de-
manded in astonishment.

"That's it beautiful."

"But... but... but... we CAN'T travel in this!"
she exclaimed.

He looked back at her in irritation. "And just
what's wrong with this? This is a helluva fine machine,
girl. It'll take you through damn near anything without
stalling."

"How long do we have to be riding around in this
thing?" She demanded.

"This is your ride for the duration, Princess." he
grinned.

"Daddeeeeeeee!"

"Now look, precious, we could hardly travel in a
Rolls in the middle of the jungle," he tried to placate
her.

"Couldn't you get something that was at least air-
conditioned!?"

"You'll never get acclimatized with air-condition-
ing pinky." Joe grinned.

"What?"

"He means you won't get used to the heat,
darling."

"I don't want to get used to the heat!" she stamp-
ed her foot on the floor.

"You ain't got no choice there, pinky."

"Don't call me that!" she demanded, furiously.

He laughed, which did nothing to cool her temper.
She folded her arms tightly, despite the heat, and sank
back in her corner of the seat, determined to sulk un-
til she was back home again. The Rover continued to
bounce along until they reached a small village outside
town.

There they stopped. There was six other four wheel
drive vehicles there waiting. Joe looked at them in
disbelief. "What in hell?" He jumped out and went to
the waiting native drivers, chatting furiously.

"You told me to find everything on the list and
bring it here with drivers." The man in charge said,
shrugging.

"What in hell was on the friggin list?!" Joe de-
manded. He poked his nose inside the rovers and jeeps,
his face growing more and more incredulous.

Finally he came over to stand in front of Charles.

"Are you nuts?" he demanded.

"Excuse me?"

"What in hell is all this junk? You got furniture
here, fer chrissake!"

"Yes, a few tables and chairs, and cots."

"Tables and chairs!"

"I suppose you've never sat in a chair or at a
table." Kristen sniffed, disdainfully. Joe glared at
her, then turned back to Taylor. "You have any idea
what this is costing you?"

"Of course I know." Charles said with dignity.

"How about how long it's gonna take us to pack up
and set down?"

"I'm sure they'll manage."

Joe closed his eyes and counted to ten.

"It's your funeral," he said before finally,
stomping over to the other drivers.

"Really." Lucy said. "Couldn't you have found a
better guide, Charles?"

"He is supposed to be the best, my dear."

"He smells badly." Kristen sulked.

"I dare say we'll all smell badly soon." Her
father said, altogether too happily. Both women looked
at him in disgust.

They bounced down dirt roads for several more
hours, with the other cars riding along behind. They
left the road then, going through the jungle on even
more bouncy trails. Just when she was certain she
couldn't take another minute, they stopped in a small
clearing by a river.

"All right. We're here." Joe said in obvious re-
lief. He almost dove out of the rover, moving as far
away from Kristen as he could get. Never had he had to
bear such a constant unending barrage of whining com-
plaints, and snotty comments.

If she had known the fantasies he'd used to try
and block her out for most of the afternoon, Kristen
would have been outraged. In truth, they weren't all
that different from most men's fantasies about her,
except for being considerably more violent.

The dozen natives proceeded to set up the camp,
which included two large tents, each ten feet by twelve
feet and tall enough for a tall man to stand. Inside
each they carried a large round plastic bathtub, which
they set up in a curtained corner, along with the
portable toilets.

They attached round curtain rods to the tubs, then
put on the curtains. A pipe with a shower nozzle on the
top was put into place, and a generator to power the
pumps, along with other gear, was started up. One large
vehicle was entirely filled with big drums of water,
which were rolled over and attached to the pumps.

Joe sat on the front bumper of his Rover and
watched in stunned amazement as the tubs, along with
tables, chairs, benches and cots were all unloaded and
brought into the tents. Each time Kristen saw him, she
turned up her nose and sniffed in disdain. Joe imagined
what a good sturdy leather belt would do to her round
little behind.

The Taylors wandered around, enjoying the scenery,
what there was of it no further than a dozen yards from
the camp at least. Kristen accompanied her parents,
shrugging and sniffing at everything they pointed out.

He's got a big campfire going, for the atmosphere,
Charles had said, since of course they'd brought por-
table propane stoves and lanterns for heat and light.
The fire drew the only appreciative statement from
Kristen Joe had heard all day. She'd allowed that it
was "OK."

Soon after things were installed, the Taylors all
retired to their tents and the pumps started up. Joe's
mind filled with the image of the pink haired girl
having a shower and despite his irritation at her,
found his loins stirring.

Normally he wouldn't have dreamed of it, but the
little bitch had been such a snotty little thing that
he almost felt she owed him one, a look that is.

With nobody in sight, he unzipped the tent and
poked his head inside, then walked in, poking his head
out to be sure nobody had seen him. He moved across
the room to the little curtained alcove, then looked
inside.

The curtain that ran around the tub was in place
and water pattered off it weakly. The pumps were only
as good as the power source which had to be small
enough to cart around. Still, a good spray of water
enveloped the girl as she stood under it.

The plastic curtain was solid, and only her shadow
showed through. Not a man to hesitate, Joe wandered
across the few feet that separated it from him and
pulled it aside slightly.

Her back was to him, and what a back! Despite his
many experiences with women he had to swallow a sigh of
appreciation. He shook his head as his eyes beheld her
beautifully proportioned body, the lovely round swells
of her buttocks and magnificent legs.

She turned and he let the curtains fall. Then
opened them a crack. Her head was tilted back and her
hands were rubbing shampoo through her long hair. He
closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again.
No, he hadn't been imagining.

"Good Christ!" he murmured, his voice easily
covered by the sound of splashing water. What a body!
His eyes lingered over her upturned breasts, looking
even more golden and perfect as she unconsciously
thrust her chest up and out.

Her belly was smooth and flat and looked like the
softest thing on earth. Her damp pubic hair, she was a
blonde, he saw, barely covered her dark little slit as
she stood with legs slightly apart.

The water trickled off her gleaming wet skin,
giving her a slick, oily look that set his heart pound-
ing and his cock pulsing. It was all he could do to
keep from jumping in and screwing her right then and
there.

Luckily, he was a strong man mentally as well as
physically. He backed away and stumbled out of the tent
his eyes wide and dazed. No matter her personality
flaws, he was going to have the little bitch if it was
the last thing he did!

He set out to please her as soon as she returned
from her shower. His attempts to curry favor and amuse
her failed dismally however. She was used to men trying
to charm and please her and was in no mood for it. Be-
sides, he was as far from her type as it was possible
to get without actually being ugly.

His smile became strained over the course of the
evening, as his most gallant, courteous and congenial
attempts to strike up friendship, or even a conversa-
tion, failed dismally, shot down by snotty remarks,
arrogant condescension and rude and brusque dismissals.

He was in a foul mood when he went to sleep that
night. It didn't get any better the next day, as she
repeated her whining and complaining to such an extent
he was reduced to angry growls and snarls himself. When
she haughtily summoned him to her tent that evening, he
was in no mood to be pleasant.

Her constant sniveling had driven him to tear into
his stash of brandy far sooner than normal, and he was
ready to bite somebody's head off. None would be better
than hers.

Kristen was wearing a light white designer shirt,
that, because of the heat, she'd completely unbuttoned
and then tied together below her braless breasts.

That her magnificent orbs were thus encased in two
tight sacks that became translucent as she sweated, did
not apparently occur to her, and if it had, she
wouldn't have cared. Tormenting men, even ones she dis-
liked was commonplace to her.

Her shorts were the kind of baggy, multi colored
things currently in vogue in California, and looked
preposterous here, but again, that didn't occur to her.

"What is it?" He almost snarled after pushing
through her tent flap.

"This thing doesn't work." she complained, point-
ing at the shower.

"So what do you want me to do about it?" She look-
ed at him like he was exceedingly stupid.

"Fix it." She said, pronouncing each word careful-
ly as she stared at him.

"It ain't my shower." He glared.

"You were hired by my father..."

"To guide you through the jungle. You want a
plumber go and find one."

"How dare you!?" she glared in outrage.

"Oh stuff a sock in it." he snapped.

"When I tell my Daddy..."

"You can tell Daddy whatever the bleeding hell you
want you silly little cunt. I'm tired of listening to
your whining and bitching and complaining!" He moved
right in front of her, staring down angrily from inches
away. She backed up in consternation, but he kept mov-
ing forward until she was backed against a table.

He jammed his face right up against hers. "Your
shit don't stink! Do it?"

Kristen's eyes and mouth opened in amazement. No-
body, but nobody had ever talked to her like this
before.

"I... I... I..."

"Oh can it! I'm sick of listening to your whining
voice!" He shoved his face even closer, forcing her to
bend backwards across the table.

"You are the snottiest little ice maiden I've ever
seen in my life! You and your Goddam bathtubs and God-
dam CD player and your Goddam pink hair! What kind of a
crazy wears pink hair anyway!?

"It... it's the latest s... style." she stuttered.

"Style! Ha! " He backed up slightly, his eyes
glaring as he looked her up and down. "And your
clothes. You wave your little ass around and show off
your fat titties and then look down your nose at anyone
that takes notice!"

He poked his nose in her face again, forcing her
back. "What you really need is a hard belt across your
dainty little rear end! Or better yet a good hard cock
up your tight, cold little hole!"

Kristen gasped in shock, her skin flushing red in
embarrassment and outrage.

"I bet for all your showin' off your still a
stinking virgin!" he snarled.

"I... I am not!" she whined.

"Bullshit! I can't imagine you letting any man
between those legs of yours!" He reached his hand down
and cupped her left breast through the sweaty
blouse. "The only one that's ever touched these are
you!" He sneered, again putting his face right up
against hers.

Kristen was now terrified. She was in a situation
she'd never faced in her life. Someone didn't like her!
Someone was being mean to her, yelling at her and call-
ing her names. She didn't know how to deal with it and
gaped at him in shock, not even trying to slap his hand
away from her hot, sweaty breast.

"What about it, little Miss Ice Queen?" he smirked.

"Or are you a lesbo? That wouldn't surprise me. A
man hating little homo!"

"A... am not!" she whimpered.

"Yeah?" He curled his lip into a sneer, then
abruptly, jammed his big hand down the front of her
shorts. The button tore off, popping across the tent
as his hand forced into the thin garment. Kristen
gasped again, her eyes staring down in shock.

Joe's hand slid right under her panties and cupped
her bare flesh, squeezing up against her pussy mound.
His eyes continued to stare into hers and as she looked
up, she felt held there, her own eyes unable to pull
away as his fingers began to rub up and down over her
cunt.

End Of Part 1