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The Scandalous Stewardess 4

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The Scandalous Stewardess 4″The Scandalous Stewardess”Chapter 5Peter Knight hurried into his beach house and locked the doorbehind him. He was sweating, and his temples throbbed. The ache in hisgroin reminded him constantly of his manhood. The devils were dancingin his head, playing cruel tricks on him, evoking wicked, disjointedthoughtsin his mind. He had to rest, to sleep, to get back hisequilibrium before Davie came home . . .He ripped off his clothes and flung them onto a chair. He fellinto bed, wincing as his hard, erect cock thudded on the mattress. Hehad some unfinished business down there . . . he couldn’t stand theagony any longer.Grabbing his long, beefy pole in his hand, he once more stroked hisenraged organ hotly until he came all over the bedsheet. It was only amatter of seconds. Exhausted then, he knew he should get up and wash,but his body refused to budge, and he fell fast asleep withoutremembering the need to cover himself.When Davie got home a couple of hours later, she was surprised to find the door locked. She figured she must have done it withoutrealizing it. No problem. She remembered the door to the lanai–thatwould be open for sure.She wanted to shower and change and wash the salt water out of herhair before she appeared at the lodge to see her father. Perhaps shewanted to wash the scent of sex and another female body away, too . . . The hours she had spent with Trish were beginning to bother her. Shewasn’t dazed with wine any more, and the reality of what she hadparticipated in with the blonde stewardess was beginning to weighheavily on her conscience. Oh God, what’s happening to me? I’m not alesbian .. . I don’t want to do it with girls! I couldn’t help myself,it felt so good. But it’s wrong. It’s not the way I want things to be.She opened the lanai door and stepped inside, a worried expressionon her young face. She could feel the first tautness that followsoverexposure to the sun, and she knew she had lain on the beach too longfor the first day. Yes . . . she had lain too long on the beach foralot of reasons . . .She turned toward the small chest of drawers that held herclothing. An unexpected groan caused her to look in the direction ofher father’s bedroom. From where she was standing, she could see onlyhis head and his bare torso. He was sleeping heavily, his mouth openand emitting soft but coarse sounds that bordered on snoring. Daviesmiled as she watched her father reposing on the big bed. She lookedover at him with pride, thinking how peaceful he seemed, how handsome hewas. His chest was broad and hairy; his muscles were well developed. He was a very masculine man.She thought she could get her things and tiptoe quietly past him without awakening him, so she gathered her shampoo and creme rinse and took another long dress out of the drawer and stepped through thedoorway into his bedroom.An involuntary gasp escaped the young girl’s throat as she found herself looking at her father’s totally nude, sleeping form. There he was, sprawled on his back, his muscular legs spread apart, exposing thefull sight of his genitals to his daughter’s widening eyes. His flaccidpenis was cradled in the hairy hammock of his enormous testicles.Daddy’s penis was huge! Davie was hypnotized by the sight of herfather’s massive prick and his plump, hirsute testicles.It ‘s so big! How could any woman possibly have a thing that big inside of her? It would tear her to pieces! It must be over ten incheslong when it’s . . . when it’s hard it’s twice the size of those models’in VIVA magazine! And theirs were pretty big . . .Davie felt a sudden dryness in her mouth and throat as she staredat the naked, powerful body on the bed. She knew she couldn’t continueto stand there gaping at him. And she didn’t dare take a shower forfear of waking him up. He’d know she had seen him. So she carefullytiptoed back to the lanai, replaced the clothing in the drawer and wentout the door. She hurried to the lodge and used the phone to call himup.”Y-yes . . .” a groggy voice answered.”Hi, Daddy,” she said brightly, “it’s your sun-baked daughter. I think I’m about medium rare.””Davie! Where are you, sweetheart?” he asked, sitting up. He wassuddenly springing to alertness.”Sheboygan, Wisconsin. Really, Daddy,” she teased, “where do you think I am? I’m at the reception desk.”He had difficulty marshaling his reason. All he could think of wasDavie being eaten by that vixen, Trish. “Well, eh, what are you doingthere, darling? I thought you were . . . on the beach.””I was. Now I’m here. I came to look for you because the door’s locked, so I figured you were at the lodge. Daddy, are you all right? I mean, this conversation is ridiculous!” She said it with mockreproach, then followed it with one of her girlish giggles.”You’re right, darling. It is. l didn’t realize how heavily I slept. Still trying to clear the cobwebs out of the attic. Why don’tyou come along to the house?””Thanks, Daddy. I’m dying to take a shower. Bye.” And she hungup, leaving Peter Knight with a dial tone and a glazed expression on hisface.Moments later he was covering the telltale stain on the sheet withanother sheet, then dashing to the door to unlock it, then scamperinginto the shower for a necessary cleansing. By the time Davie reachedthe house, he was out of the shower and half-dressed.Davie was suspiciously cheerful, it seemed to him. Of course, he knew what had happened between her and Trish Byers and he suspected–andhoped–that his winsome offspring was feeling guilty about the wholeperverted episode. He was bothered as hell himself, and couldn’t lookher squarely in the face, but he also couldn’t take his eyes off hernubile bikini-clad body.She acted awkward and embarrassed, and he thought wistfully to himself what a sad thing is the loss of innocence. He blamed himselfonce izmir escort more for what happened on the beach. He should have been there, tosave Davie from the sexual clutches of that rapacious female! Why washe never there when she needed him? If he had stayed with her in NewYork, none of this would have happened. But then, he didn’t. All hecold do now was make damned sure nothing like that ever happened to heragain.When she had showered and dressed in a most becoming long dress, Davie joined her father in the living room. He was having a drink, andoffered her a coke on the rocks, which she smilingly accepted.”Tell me about your day,” he began. “Did you enjoy the beach?””Very much. It’s so beautiful. I’ve never seen such white sand. And the water is glorious. You can see all kinds of fish as plain as anything. Like looking through a tinted window. I saw this one mean looking fish with a lot of teeth. Trish said she thought it might be abarracuda, so we got out of the water fast!””Trish? You went swimming with her, eh?” he asked, eyeing his daughter carefully for giveaway expressions. But Davie was artfullycool. That disturbed him, too.”Oh yes. She came by this morning with a super lunch for the twoof us–you have the best food here, Daddy. We walked way down thebeach, found a spot and just roasted ourselves all day. Of course,Trish could take it. She does it all the time–sunbathing, you know. That’s why she has such a beautiful color. Look at me, I look like ahalf cooked lobster!” She giggled at herself again, and Peter Knightreturned the grin. But inwardly he was agonizing. He couldn’t blot theimage of his naked daughter on her back with her pussy in the blonde’sface from his mind. He couldn’t shut out her cries as she lay therecumming, brought to the peak of pleasure by that sex-starved woman whohad acted as Davie’s. . . lover! Trish was a dangerous influence on theimpressionable Davie. If she spent too much time alone with Trish, shemight become as venal as the stewardess. The bitch would have Davie ina gang bang with all the guests at French Leave looking on. Christ, whata thought! No, Davie was still pure, she was still innocent. Shedidn’t know what the hell she was doing today, or at school. They forcedit on her. Davie needed a man to straighten her out. Her soft, youngbody, her lips, her ripe breasts and her beautiful pussy cried for aman’s caresses . . . a man’s body to complement hers . . . a man’s cockto fill her precious little cunt . ..My God, what I am thinking!, it suddenly occurred to him. I’m thinking of Davie as though I were her lover! As though she neededthat! She only belongs to me spiritually . . . that’s the only way Ican have her. That ‘s the only way that’s right between a father anddaughter. Any other way is sick, degenerate . . . as degenerate as whatTrish did to her today.”Daddy, is anything wrong?” Davie suddenly asked him. He had beenlost in thought for several moments. He found himself staring vacantlyinto his scotch glass. When he looked up at Davie, her eyes expressedconcern.”Sorry, honey I’m still half asleep, I guess.” He smiled at her reassuringly. “Let’s go have dinner at the lodge. I really should beon hand most of the time.”A yachting party arrived during the dinner hour and Peter Knighthad to leave his daughter alone for several minutes, during which timeTrish Byers and her brother appeared in the dining room and got in lineforthe sumptuous buffet spread. By the time the resort owner returned,Trish and Randy had joined their table, a thing which did not pleasePeter Knight in the least.”Good evening, Miss Byers, Randy,” he said politely, offering acurt smile.”I’d be so pleased if you called me Trish,” the seductive blondetold him, giving him a flashing smile. She looked stunning in a low-cutwhite cotton dress that did little to hide her feminine assets. Herfeet were shod in the barest of high-heeled sandals, making her longbeautiful legs seem even longer. Her tan was deep and golden againstthe electric whiteness of her dress. She oozed sensuality from everypore. He was seething inside and he wanted to slap her half way acrosstile dining room. He hated everything about her, except her face andher voice and her body . . . He was caught in a repulsion-attractionsyndrome–his reason repelled, but his being drawn to her like a magnet.Davie’s thigh accidentally brushed against Randy’s and she movedhers away hastily, but not before the contact had produced a tinyelectrical charge in her loins. She couldn’t help thinking of thepictures in VIVA, and now that he was seated next to her at the diningtable, she found herself comparing him more and more to the guy in thephotograph. She speculated on the size of his penis, and wondered if itresembled the man’s in the magazine or that of her father. What wouldRandy be like? What would it feel like to have his thing inside me? He’s very sexy, just like his sister, with those bedroom blue eyes andall that soft blond hair. He does have a fantastic build . . The young girl felt her face flush. It was already hot from the hours of harsh sun. She couldn’t look at Randy directly; there was something about him that both frightened and intrigued her. He didn’t talk much, and seemed very shy himself. But she couldn’t suppress a little shudder when she thought again of his resemblance to the man inthe photographs.They lingered over dinner, with Knight having to excuse himself atintervals to attend to one kind of business or another. During his absences, Trish focused her attention on Davie, giving her enigmaticlooks across the table. At Other moments, she did the same thing to herbrother. Davie felt there was something peculiar in theirrelationship. Sometimes she seemed to be flirting with him! Once ortwice, Randy looked down at Davie from under his izmir escort bayan sleepy eyelids and shefound herself melting inside. And the liquid warmth manifested itselfin her panties! When Randy asked her if she’d like to go for a walkafter dinner, she readily agreed. Peter Knight had other ideas.”I think it’s getting close to your bedtime, young lady,” he said,in a very paternal way. To his surprise, Davie was angered.”Really, Daddy! I’m not a c***d. Besides, it’s not that late. I’m not a baby!” she said, her voice tight and her eyes sparkling with indignation.”She’s right, Peter,” Trish added without solicitation. He gaveher a chilling look. “I’ll make that decision, if it’s all right withyou,” he said to her levelly. “Randy, why don’t you escort Davie to thehouse. I’ll be along shortly.””Sure. My pleasure, Mr. Knight,” Randy said, rising to his feet. Davie got up, too, and left the table without another word to herfather. She was embarrassed to tears, as only a sixteen year old girlcan be.Her anger, fanned by guilt and the confusion that resulted from herturmoil and frustration brought sudden and unexpected tears to her eyesas the two youngsters walked out into the refreshing night air. “Whydid he have to say that? He was talking to me like I was some kind oftwo year old moron. He sounded just like my mother!” she protestedhotly.Randy put a comforting arm around her shoulder. “Don’t take it sohard, Davie. Your old man’s just looking out for your interest, that’sall. He doesn’t want his little girl out with a big, bad wolf likeRandy Ferns!” (And with good reason, he added silently.)She had to smile. She looked up at him and he gave her anendearing grin. She thought he had the sexiest eyes she had ever seen.They walked slowly on, and she began to feel more relaxed in his company. He really was a nice boy. He was as understanding as Trish ….They laughed a lot. He wasn’t nearly as shy as she thought hewas. Maybe he was only shy in a crowd. At one point he casually tookher hand and she felt another surge of excitement go through her. Everynow and then, their bodies would brush against one another. The air wascool and fragrant. Crickets chirruped and the sea gently slapped theshore. Davie felt warm and contented to be with this understanding,masculine boy . ..In another part of the compound, Peter Knight was declining an invitation to ‘come in for a nightcap.’ “Thank you, Trish, but I’dbetter get home.””Why so soon? Afraid the boogie man is going to get your darling daughter?” she taunted.”Look,” he said through clenched teeth, “my daughter is none ofyour goddamned business! And as far as that goes, I’d be ever sograteful if you left her the hell alone! A girl like Davie doesn’t needa woman like you as a friend!” He hadn’t intended to loose hiscool–Trish Byers was a guest, though she wouldn’t be a guest everagain! Still, he prided himself on self-control; on maintaining anunruffled, professional posture with both guests and help alike. Hedidn’t want to show his hand; the bitch just might tell Davie that herfather had seen them making love!Trish felt her own anger bob. “How would you know?” she railedback at him. “You haven’t even seen her for three years! It just sohappens, Mr. Big, that Davie does need my friendship. Who else is shegoing to talk woman to woman –YOU? Yes, I suppose she could . . .”That hit home. She had slashed at his manhood, and any residual control that he had fled with the wafting island breeze. He reachedpasther, opened the door and thrust her roughly inside. The light fromthe moon illuminated the room enough so that he could see her strikingfeatures clearly. He looked at her bright, sensuous mouth, rememberingvividly that it was the mouth that kissed Davie, that licked and suckedher tender breasts, that ate her teenage pussy . . .He grabbed both her arms and held her in a viselike grip. Helooked at her long and hard. Her face was close to his as he breathedthe words out through his rigid jaw.”You know what you are? You’re a vile, low-class scheming bitch! Worse than that–you’re a cunt a real cunt!” (God, how he wanted tofuck her. He wanted to tear her apart with his cock. He never wantedto fuck a woman more in his life than he wanted to fuck this big-titted,sexy blonde bitch!)”Flattery will get you nowhere!” she snarled back at him, her lipscurled in a defiant pout.”I don’t want to get anywhere, cunt!” he growled back through clenched teeth. “I wouldn’t fuck you with a ten foot pole!””Braggart! You’d touch me with any kind of a pole–if you hadone. But obviously, you don’t . . .” She had him now, and she knew it.Peter Knight smarted visibly from the gauntlet she had flung so cruellyacross his face. If that assault on his masculinity didn’t get him todrop his pants, nothing would. She looked up at him with disdain in herbig, blue eyes. She smiled a mocking little smile with dewy,half-parted lips.He could feel her hot breath on his flushed cheek, scalding himlike oil from a boiling cauldron. Her bare knee touched his trouseredleg, searing his flesh through the sharkskin. Oh Geezus, he had to fuckher! He didn’t care about Davie being home alone; he didn’t carewhether the blonde bitch was a guest, or that he hated her guts; hedidn’t care about anything! He only knew that the cum in his balls wasbeing boiled to a broth. He had to put the meat to this pagan,she-devil cant standing so tauntingly before him, had to teach her alesson she would never forget. . . with a fucking she would neverforget! When he got through with her, she would crawl back to Nassau!He was dimly, very dimly aware that later, when it was all over, there would be remorse and self-loathing. But at that moment, nothing else mattered except funding the shit out of the so ft. warm, musky-smelling evil woman who was only inches escort izmir away from his throbbing,granite-hard ten inch cock . . .Without another word, he pulled her to his body and kissed her brutally on the mouth, pressing his teeth into her yielding lips and forcing his tongue into her oral cavity. He tongued her mouth, and sheanswered with hot caresses from her oral member. Suddenly, he bitit–hard, causing her to cry out in a gagged scream of pain. Herelished her agony. Then he bit her lip, drawing a warm, salty trickleof blood from the petal-soft flesh. Trish began to fight him, pummelinghim with her fists to try and push him away. But he was a pillar ofstone, and she, with her 120 pounds of female flesh, was hardly a matchfor the enraged resort owner.Peter reached behind her and unzipped the pristine white dress withone deft yank of the zipper, drawing her in tightly to his loins as hedid, forcing his truncheon-like cock against her pubic bone as hard ashe could; grinding it into her in a way he knew was bruising. Trishstruggled against him, a look of fear and pain contorting her lovelyfeatures. She saw the look of a madman, the frenzy of the r****t in hisblazing hazel eyes. Still, it excited her. She had wanted this man forso long; she never figured him to show the balls he was showing. Ofcourse, she had goaded him into it; but she had expected to call theshots. He was definitely out of her control. What was he going to do?”You bitch . . . you cunt . . . you frigging whore . . .” he kept muttering over and over under his breath, as he reached up under herdress and grabbed the sheer nylon panties she wore and ripped them downover her satin hips, leaving them around her thighs like a raggedtourniquet. She gasped under his harsh stripping as his clawing handsleft angry red tracks in her sun bronzed flesh. Then he shoved hismiddle finger into her hotly steaming vagina, and she bucked from thesuddenness of his harsh and abrupt entry, even though her pussy was acauldron of desire, and the juices of lust lubricated her cuntalpassage.She started to groan as he finger fucked her deeply and she swayedon her feet, her eyes closed. Seeing her reaction, he abruptly withdrewhis hand and wiped his finger across her supple mouth, saying, “Here,slut, eat this! You like the taste of pussy, I’ll bet; take it. Lickit!” He worked his finger into her mouth as though it were a cock, andslid it back and forth between her lips and around the inside of hercheeks. His other hand was up under her dress, pinching her ripelycurved ass-cheeks as hard as he could.Trish wanted to bite his finger, but she was afraid of what hewould do. This man was capable of anything now, she realized. Godknows what he might do to her if she retaliated. Besides, she liked thetaste of her pussy; it was a taste similar to the sweet, aromatic pussyof Peter’s teenage daughter. Hah! If only the bastard knew!Yesss . . . that was it! What better way to get even with thestuck up son-of-a-bitch than to arrange for a little private”exhibition” . .. with the star performer being his darling little girl!He suddenly brought both his hands up to her shoulders and pulledthe white dress down until it fastened like a straight jacket around herbody, just below her melon-like breasts, pinioning her arms to hersides. The stewardess was unable to slip the dress either up or down,and stood there, her face a mask of impotent rage.”Get me out of this goddamn thing, you bastard!” she shouted out athim. She drew up her foot and kicked him sharply on the shin. She followed it with a knee to the groin.Her aim wasn’t true; he hardly felt it. But a devilish sneer appeared on his lips. “Oh . . . so you like to play rough, eh? Ok, hitch. We’ll play rough!”He picked her up and slung her under his arm as though she were a store mannequin. She was screaming and kicking her legs. He literallythrew her on the big bed, on her back, and tore the sandals off of her. Trish was still straight-jacketed by the crumpled, constricting dress,which had worked its way up to her hips, exposing her dark blonde mat ofpussy hair to his wanton, rapacious gaze. While she lay there kickingand screaming, he ripped off her panties, then hastily removed hisjacket, shirt and trousers. He slipped off his loafers and socks andpeeled down his shorts.Her eyes widened as she gazed at his naked, ten-inch rod of man-flesh, the blood-engorged head purple with rage. His huge, hairy testicles hung tautly between his sinewy thighs. He was a tower of virility before the wide-eyed stewardess, who thought she had seen everything there was to see in the bedroom–until now! He looked so powerful, so cruel and menacing as he loomed above her, his handsomeface grimacing with vindictive lust.”Like what you see, cunt?” he asked, reaching for his massive poleand grasping it gingerly in his hand as if it were a baby club.”Oh my God, Peter . . . Oh my God!” was all she could say.”This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Isn’t this what you’ve been after all along . . . every time you gave me one of yourcome-up-and-see-me-sometime looks? Every time you wiggled your hotlittle ass at me, or stuck those big round jugs under my nose? Youwanted me to fuck you, didn’t you, slut? You wanted me to stick my cockup between those good-looking legs of yours and fuck your hot littlewhore pussy, didn’t you? . . . “I . . . I . . . yes . . . YESSSSSS!” shecried out at him.”Yes, what?” he taunted, a victorious sneer on his face. “What didyou want me to do? See, I have to be sure you really want me,becauseI’m very insecure, and I might not be able to get a hard-on untilyoureassure me . . .” he said, sporting an erection that would do creditto a prize bull!”I . . . I want you . . . to . . . fuck me,” she breathed.”How’s that? I also have a hearing problem. You’ll have to say itlouder.””I want you to fuck me. FUCK ME, goddamnit!” she screamed, theveins in her temples and the cords in her neck distending as she raisedher head off the bed to shout at him. “FUCK ME . . . FUCK ME . . .NOW!”

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