The Spender house was spacious, painted white with colored awnings over the windows, the long marble- flagged terrace led down to a swimming pool, the neighbors were hidden by rows of flowering eucalyptus and the wide garage held three cars. Arnold Spender was rich had always been rich as his father before him and his father before him. Beyond that generation the tracing was lost, as his wife Susannah too often mentioned during rounds of family-tree accounting.
Nevertheless he belonged she always conceded since his ancestors on his mother's side were pioneers like her own, one of whom crossed the Delaware with George Washington and another died as a young lieutenant at Valley Forge. They should be living in Boston or New York, Susannah constantly complained, instead of being surrounded by the nouveaux rich of Long Beach. She was all snob whereas Arnold was only part snob, a bright and successful petroleum engineer who still retained the flavor of his Ivy League days at Harvard.
Who they were and what they were, these were the ever repeated legends of themselves instilled in their daughter, their own little Princess as they called her. They scoffed at the idea of a generation gap in their closely united family, forgetting that the younger generation that lived at Long Beach was beyond their comprehension. Their friends were older or seemed older than themselves, but were usually as rich, belonging to the same clubs and having much the same interests. In this circle the young Linda was nurtured and brought up in the belief that she had inherited the earth.
The Spenders had good cause to be proud of Linda. Bright at school, popular with all their friends and their children, never complaining about going to church, she never gave her parents any anxious moments except for her daring in the surf. The California beaches and the beaches on Hawaii where they often vacationed were an irresistible magnet to their beautiful, sun-blonde daughter.
Her mother claimed to have passed on to Linda a perfect figure, an open, nicely rounded face with a slightly pointed chin, big hazel eyes and a soft, velvety skin that never tanned deeply, retaining under the hottest sun a honey brown that sometimes disturbed her father with its sheen of sensuality, giving him feelings to which he would never admit, even to himself.
Linda was not yet fully developed. She would grow taller and the small excess of baby fat around her high, perfectly rounded bottom would go. Once in a party frock the bodice pushed up her breasts so that they formed two little mounds above it, causing Arnold to remark that their little girl was a big girl now. Naked, as her parents sometimes saw her running from a shower, her breasts showed like two firm oranges, her thighs and calves like a graceful athlete in a Cretan painting.
Linda was their proudest possession; she was a precious jewel. Yet they realized that she would one day live her own life and must prepare for it, therefore she was allowed complete freedom to stay out alone with a boy, as long as he was as well bred as Tom Blackwell and as long as she was home before midnight. The Spenders enjoyed a lot of night life themselves, always feeling secure in their belief that their Princess would never stray from the straight and narrow path laid out for her.
Arnold's professional and investment interests in oil extended to Australia where new oil field discoveries were extending his own little empire. As vice-president of a California company he was invited to sit as a director on the board of its Australian associate company, a position which would mean occasional journeys out to Sydney. He and Susannah were both looking forward to a holiday in the antipodean sunshine in the near future, where the summer was at its highest and where Linda could enjoy a surfing break from her high school studies.
Earlier that evening when Linda had gone to a drive-in with Tom, Arnold and Susannah had visited a friend's house for a champagne supper. As usual, they left early, intending to be home long before Linda arrived back. They had celebrated somewhat more alcoholically than usual, mixing too many cocktails with too much champagne, but nevertheless they were home and undressed before eleven.
Susannah, an older, taller and well preserved replica of her daughter, wanted to dance so Arnold turned out the lights, put on a record and, blithely naked, they danced slowly across the living room floor toward the long settee. Warmed by the drinks and the central heating, their bodies slightly perspiring, they began to feel one another, Susannah squeezing his slowly hardening cock while Arnold slid his hand down the cleft of her ass- cheeks, down until he could stretch a finger to the back of her slippery cunt. Susannah suddenly broke away from him. Surprised, he asked her what was wrong.
"I don't suppose it's anything," she replied "Perhaps it's just that I've had too much to drink. I had a sudden thought that something might happen to Linda in Australia. You know, something with men. Some people say the Australians are uncouth."
"At least, honey, they don't go around shooting each other as often as Americans do. All the ones I've met were nice. They drink a lot and play a lot but they are very respectful towards women. As a matter of fact I've heard it said that they would rather soak than poke."
Susannah gave him a sour look. Vulgarities were rarely well received by Susannah, except when they were making love. Tonight he was sure not in a mood for soaking up booze, he was all for a good long fuck. He pulled his wife down on the settee, his cock still erected to half- ready hardness. Her mood was inhibiting him.
"Look, baby, we'll be there to look after her," he cajoled.
"Yes, of course, sweetheart. It's just that I have a kind of premonition. Perhaps we shouldn't go. It may be something to do with the jet. It's a long flight out to Sydney." The more she talked the softer grew his prick. There was only one sure way of getting her to shut up, and he pushed her back against the cushions and opened her legs.
In the dim light, Arnold could make out the pale sheen of her soft skin, and his eyes traveled greedily over her still firm breasts with their dark, mouth-watering nipples. From there, he glanced down to her trim waist with its softly rounded stomach, and his breath quickened as his eyes came to the dark patch of curling hair which drifted down and around the rosy lips of her cunt. Arnold held her legs apart for several minutes, staring hungrily at the exposed area. Then, unable to restrain himself any longer, he plunged his head down between her widespread legs and buried his face in her hotly pulsating pubic area.
Susannah's little clitoris was already erect when his darting tongue found it and frantically began to lick at it, his lips closed around the tip of it lovingly as he tried to suck it into his mouth. Then he licked sloppily down to her hotly pulsating cunt, and he jabbed in and out as if he were fucking her with his tongue, running it hungrily around her wetly steaming cunt and sucking the oozing juices into his mouth.
Already, he could feel her cunt throbbing madly toward her climax. This was always the best way ... when he could bring her to a quick orgasm with his mouth. But that was only the beginning; that first climax got them both so hot that whatever they did after that was always far more exciting to both of them. Arnold extended his tongue to its fullest length and rammed it as far as it would go into the hot tunnel of her vibrating cunt, and she began to moan as he licked and prodded at the soft tender flesh of her dripping pussy.
His tongue flicked in and out in a furious staccato rhythm as her juices flowed in a hotly excited stream, and he sucked them into his open mouth. Now her thighs were starting to twist and jerk, and she clamped her hands down on his head, crushing his lips into her steaming cuntal area, and she opened her mouth in a long agonizing wail as her orgasm exploded. They were both so intensely involved in their lovemaking that they were totally unaware that they were not alone.