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Two If A Kind: Two In A Bind Part 2 - Caught In The Act (m/f,voy,ws,scat)
by Pred ([email protected])

Damn it, I forgot my keys again... Kevin cursed as he reached into his
pockets. It never failed. Whenever Eddie drove on their weekly "guy's night
out," Kevin would forget his keys. Now he would have to go around to the
back of the house and get the spare key under the backdoor mat. He walked
around the house, making sure to be as quiet as possible so he didn't wake
the girls or the neighbors. By the flicker of the TV light through the front
windows he guessed Carrie was crashed across his sofa watching some cheesy
horror movie. She better not have the girls down there with her, he fumed.
I don't need any more nightmares at 3AM, especially on a school night.
Sometimes she seems to forget they're only eleven-years-old... He remained
virtually silent as he withdrew the spare key from under the mat, inserted it
in the lock and twisted the handle. Seconds later he was inside, tiptoeing
across the kitchen floor towards the living room. A mischievous impulse
seized him, and before he knew it he was crouching low and sneaking into the
family room. Crawling like a cat over to the light switches on the wall, he
hesitated a moment before flipping on the overhead lamps and springing up
like a jack-in-the-box.

"Hah!" he bellowed sharply, his eyes taking in the scene that suddenly
flooded into his eyes.

"Wh...?" Carrie jumped up from the couch in a start, her hand waving a...

No, it can't be... Kevin tried to turn away, but his eyes locked on the
"toy" in her one hand and the... Is that a joint?! ...in the other hand.
He felt his jaw drop as she flashed him one of those stupid, cutesy,
flirtatious, "Oh, you caught me again" grins he hated so much.

"Hi, honey, I'm home," she snorted with a silly, stoned giggle. "Want a
hit?" she had regained her composure quickly, and now slyly offered him what
remained of the joint.

"Wha..." he tried to get the question out, but the words wouldn't come.
They were stuck on the end of his panting tongue as his eyes drifted over
the contours of her absolutely, positively luscious... No, this isn't
happening... Kevin turned away as reality began to sink in even deeper. He
tried to focus on a neutral object, the television, but what greeted his gaze
was even worse. A man was practically suffocating a beautiful young woman
with his enormous... Oh, my God! The gravity of the situation had now hit
him square between the eyes. His babysitter had been sprawled on his couch,
smoking pot, watching porno movies and... getting off... with a vibrator -
the same couch he sat on to watch TV, the same couch his daughters...
Enough. I've had it. That's it!

"Out," he hissed under his breath. "You get out of my house and never show
your face around here again."

"Come on, you don't mean that," she laughed, twirling her head and plopping
back down on the sofa. "Now come sit down, loosen your tie and have some
fun."

"I can't believe this is happening," he strode around the sofa until he was
standing before her, his face bearing down on her. "I trusted you... trusted
you with my daughters."

"Lighten up," Carrie snorted. "You're dragging me down. I've got another
joint."

"Didn't you hear me. You're out of here. Now!"

"You don't mean that, Professor."

"I most certainly do."

"No you don't."

"Do, too."

"You can't fire me. You love me."

"What?"

"You heard me. You love me, you just won't admit it because you're too
uptight."

"You are so gone," Kevin hissed. "I never want to see you or hear from you
again. And if I even hear my daughters mentioning your name, I'm calling the
cops and having you arrested for... for..."

"For what?"

"Something... something not so nice," Kevin answered lamely. "Now go! Go!"

"You don't want me to go."

"I really will call the cops. I swear."

"No you won't."

"Don't push me, Carrie. I want you out of here this instance."

"No, you don't, and I can prove it to you."

"The only thing you can prove to me is that you're a deranged, psychotic
nymphomaniac. Oh wait, you've already done that, haven't you...?"

"Pull down your pants," Carrie snickered, reaching over to Kevin and grabbing
at the zipper of his Dockers.

"What in God's name do you think you're doing?"

"Proving to you that you don't want me to leave."

"Get your hands off me." He tried to bat her hands away, but she held on to
his zipper and tugged it down.

"We're going to pull down your pants and take a look at your cock. If it's
all stiff and standing at attention, that means you're horny, and you love
me, and you want me to stay. If it's limp, I'll go, and you'll never see me
again."

"Stop this at once..."

"It's hard, isn't it?" she cooed, stroking the bulge in his trousers as he
squirmed around violently.

"That's all right. It's nothing to be ashamed of. You've got a sexy young
lady all wet and ready to jump your bones, and you're all hot and hard and
wanting it. That's only natural, Professor. Now just calm down and stand
still and let Carrie take care of you."

"You're sick..." he gasped, his struggle growing weaker as she squeezed his
cock and balls through his Dockers.

"And you're hard," she giggled, finally getting the zipper down all the way
so she could snake her deft fingers inside his trousers.

"I am not hard..." he offered meekly, his voice cutting off when he felt her
hand encircle the rod of turgid flesh pressing against the cotton of his
boxers.

"Let's just see about that, shall we." With Carrie's one hand she fished
into his shorts and struggled to bring his cock into the night air. That's
it, Professor, come to mama, she laughed to herself as she wrestled with the
gristle-hard appendage. I was right, eight, maybe eight-and-a-half inches.
Can't wait to taste it. Yummy... With her other hand, she unsnapped the
button on his Dockers, pulled the trousers down past his waist, and then
began unbuttoning the bottom buttons of his shirt. He was making a
half-hearted effort to pull away, but with her hand clenched so firmly around
his prick he was finding it impossible to move aside without severe pain.

Now that his Dockers were down to his knees, Carrie started working the
elastic of his boxers down his hips. As he continued squirming, she kissed
his trembling stomach... shhh, baby, it's all right now... running her tongue
inside his navel and licking his surprisingly well-defined abs... Wow, nice
six-pack. Who would have ever thunk it...

"Please," the Professor moaned, "please, stop..."

She ignored him, of course, running her tongue down his stomach until she
tasted the salty prickle of his crotch hair. His cock was pointing down in
his shorts, and the elastic band of the boxers was cutting just above the
inflamed bulb of his cock head. One more tug, and it would snap up. She
traced her tongue down the bumpy vein that jutted out from the top of his
shaft, kissing the entire length of his thick meat until she reached the
point where the elastic waist band of the boxers held the last inches at bay.
Letting go of his cock with her one hand, she tugged the shorts down with her
other and the Professor's manhood snapped up, striking her in the chin before
she opened her mouth and deposited its length snugly between her velvety,
gobbling lips. There we go, just what the doctor ordered...

"Don't," he was almost weeping, whatever fight was left in his voice and body
being slowly sucked from him with each passionate slurp. "Please, Carrie...
OH!!" His entire spasmed when she struck pay dirt, wrapping her lips tightly
around the bottom of his cockhead and strafing the inflamed area with a
succession of quick, savage sucks. Instinctively, his hands reached for her
hair, his strong fingers entangling in the short, red locks and drawing her
mouth further down his aching shaft.

"That's it," she gasped between mouthfuls of his cock, "pull my hair. I'm a
sick little depraved slut. Teach me a lesson, Professor. I wanted this, now
make me regret it. Choke fuck me with that big, hard cock of yours..."

"Shut up and suck, you fucking slut," the Professor's voice suddenly changed,
and his grip on her hair tightened until it was actually painful. "You
wanted this, you've got it."

"Ugggllpp..." she gagged as he pounded her mouth down the entire length of
his shaft. Instinctively, she tried to recoil, get him to ease up slightly,
but he would have none of it. He drove the sharp point of his prick helmet
hard against her tonsils, burying at least three of his eight-and-a-half
inches in her windpipe, cutting off her air supply. Not prepared for his
suffocating assault, she struggled to get free, but a bitter smack across
her face with the back of his hand brought her quickly under his domination.
"Uggghhh... uoooggllssshhh..." she gurgled, trying in vain to breathe. The
Professor, however, sadistically left his meat missile locked firmly in the
silo of her esophagus, grinding his hips against her face to accentuate the
fact that he was in control, that her very access to life-giving oxygen
depended solely on him.

"So, how do you like that?" he chided her, grinding his hips further into her
face as she began to black out. "You wanted to play ball, so how do you like
the major leagues."

"uuaaagghh" she choked meekly in response.

"Had enough?" he slapped her across the cheek again, demanding her undivided
attention.

She nodded desperately, wagging his cock up and down like a puppy's tale.

"Maybe a little longer," he spit in her eye and thrust his cock even deeper
into her choking throat. "We don't to go easy on you, do we...?"

"Ouughh..." she bawled.

"Cockteasing whore," he spit in her again. "Miss 'I've been all over the
world and I can do anything.' I thought you were supposed to be soooo
tough," he mocked her, disengaging his cockhead from the back of her windpipe
and slowly sliding his engorged schlong out from her mouth.

"Uffffff..." Carrie gasped for air, coughing and gagging while the Professor
bitch-slapped his slick, rubbery prick helmet all over her tear-stained face.
Jesus, what a fucking stud, she mused to herself as she sucked in air. That
was fucking excellent. I'll be your dirty little whore, Professor. Please
let me be your dirty little whore... She embraced him around his knees and
hugged him while he continued dick whipping her pretty, panting face. Her
tongue quickly found his balls and lavished them with a worshipful, wet
massage.

"I take it you liked that," he tugged at her hair and yanked her head up so
she looked him in the eye.

"Um hmm..." she was still too weak-kneed even to speak.

"Good," he smiled, "then have some more." He rammed his prick between her
slack-jaws once again, this time thrusting it in and out in a firm,
relentless, fucking motion. Weak as she was, Carrie managed to stay in
control of his cock fury for a few moments before raising her hands to grasp
at the stalk of his dick.

"Whores don't use their hands," the Professor reminded her, grabbing both
her wrists and stretching her arms high above her head. He tugged up even
further on her arms until she felt like she was hanging suspended from the
ceiling. In that uncomfortable position, she fought the savage thrusts of
his flesh spear as it gutted her mouth and stabbed deep into her pharynx.
That's it, baby,... I'm your little mouth slave. Crucify me with that big,
hard cock of yours...

* * *

The twins looked on in absolute shock at the scene before them. Neither had
spoken, nor even breathed in what seemed hours. Their father had burst in,
surprised Carrie, told her to get out, fought with her as she tried to seduce
him, and now... this... "He's raping her," Mary-Kate whispered in her
sister's ear at last. Despite their states of catatonic shock, both girls
were still pressed against each other, and neither girl had ceased playing
with their privates; in fact, their fingers were diddling even more furiously
inside the folds of their bald, barely pubescent twats.

"He's not raping her," Ashley protested back. "Look at her. She... she likes
it. She wants him to. Look at the smile on her face."

"He's hurting her," Mary-Kate protested. "Dad is hurting Carrie in a sick
way. What are we going to do?"

"Do you want to go down there?" Ashley asked, her wide eyes bugging out even
further.

"This is wrong. We have to stop them. He's hurting her. Dad's hurting
Carrie."

"No, he's not," Ashley hissed in her sister's ear. "Look..."

Their father had withdrawn his penis once more from Carrie's mouth and he was
wagging it back and forth so that it slapped her cheeks. She was laughing
like a schoolgirl between the painful winces the Professor elicited every
time he yanked up on her wrists and stretched her arms. Still giggling,
Carrie lowered her head even further, tickling their father's hairy sack with
her tongue and sliding even further down to lick the crack in his butt.

"Lie down on your back, slut," their father cackled as he released Carrie
momentarily, spanked her hard on the butt and forcibly rolled her over.
Spinning around, he was facing her now, and he lowered himself down until he
was sitting directly on her face. "You know what a tea bag is, cunt?" he
snarled, grasping his penis in one hand and hoisting it up until it rested
against his lower stomach.

"Let me taste those balls, stud," she nodded eagerly, opening her mouth and
licking her lips.

Their father lowered his hairy sack between her greedy lips, and a loud
slurping sound cut through the chilly night air. The twins watched in
abject fascination as their dad dipped his hairy sack up and down in their
babysitter's mouth like he was dunking a...

"Tea bag!" Ashley giggled. "I get it. That's why he called it a tea bag."

"You don't think he's hurting her?" Mary-Kate asked again.

"Look for yourself, Mary-Kate," Ashley redoubled the finger strokes across
her hairless slot, pinching her naughty bump ever so slightly. "She likes
it. She likes the taste of dad's... you know... his... what do they call
those things anyway?"

"His balls?" Mary-Kate giggled now.

"Yeah, his balls."

"So, you don't think he's hurting her?"

"Geez, Mary-Kate. Sometimes you can be such a little kid. She loves it.
Look at her. Listen to her. Her and Dad are loving each other."

"It looks like it would hurt, like it would be all gross and everything."

"That's cause you're still a little kid."

"Am not."

"Shut up and watch," Ashley hissed in her sister's ear, her eyes glued back
onto the scene as her father scooted up on Carrie's face and pressed his butt
crack over her mouth.

"You ready to get real dirty, slut," he laughed.

"Mmm hmm..." Carrie cooed, pressing her mouth and tongue up into their
father's butt crack while he tilted his head back and smiled.

"She's... she's..." Mary-Kate couldn't even say it. The very idea was too
disgusting to even comprehend. Carrie had her tongue inside her father's...
his... Ewwyukkk... "That is so gross!"

"Carrie doesn't seem to think so. Look at her."

"This is getting so gross, Ashley. I want to back to our room."

"Go ahead then. Be a little baby."

"I am not a baby. This is just gross."

"That's what a baby would say."

Mary-Kate glared at her sister, and stayed put, helplessly strumming her
nasty bump and licking the drool from the corners of her mouth. Watching her
father and Carrie gave her such queer feelings in her tummy, like she was
going to be sick. She'd played with her nasty bump before, and she'd even
made her stomach feel like it was going to drop out of her butt, but she'd
never experienced this kind of feeling. She was burning up so bad, every
part of her, from her ears to her toes.

"Ready for a hot lunch?" their father grunted as he rubbed his butt over
their babysitter's squealing face.

"You better believe it. Give it to me, you fucking bastard," Carrie's
muffled voice squeaked from beneath the folds of their dad's butt cheeks.

"What are they talking about?" Mary-Kate whispered.

"I don't know," Ashley answered. "Just shut up and watch."

"Here it fucking comes, cunt. Lunch time," their father grunted as lifted
his butt off her face, tensed up and started having a bowel movement across
her face.

"Oh my God!" Ashley whispered. "He's... she's..." Mary-Kate wanted to turn
away, but her eyes were riveted to the depravity sprawled out on the living
room floor below her. She clutched Ashley by the arm and they pressed the
sides of their heads together, neither able to tear away from the disgusting
display.

"You better eat that all up, cunt," their father hissed. "I don't want any
shit stains on my new carpet." He was feeding log after log into her greedy
mouth while she inhaled his turd like chocolate. Every few seconds, a loose
blast would fart wet turd across her lips, and she would lick that up, too.
"Time to drain the lizard," Kevin sneered. "That's what six beers will do to
you." He backed down her face until his now semi-hard penis was poised at
her turd-stained lips. "Shit," he cursed as the hot pee sprayed out in all
directions from his hole. With his penis still at semi-hardness, the pee was
having a hard time flowing out smoothly, and it fired out in quick, misty
bursts that drenched Carrie's face.

She was busily licking the pee off her lips while their father got his
piss-stream under control. Seconds later a hot jet of pee streamed from his
semi-hard penis like a fire hose, while Carrie drank it up like she was at a
drinking fountain.

"How's that taste?" their father sneered, watching the hot, young babysitter
feats on his pee and turd like it was a gourmet meal.

"Let me suck it," Carrie squealed, wrapping her lips back around his
dribbling penis and coaxing it back to a full erection.

"Shit, I'm gonna cum now," their father collapsed over Carrie and began
thrusting his hips, pumping his penis deep into their sitter's mouth.
"Christ that burns. All that piss. Christ that burns. Shit!" He pounded
on the floor and his body tensed up in obvious discomfort. Seconds later he
withdrew his penis from Carrie's mouth and the twins could see white cream
drooling from his pee hole and from the corners of Carrie's mouth.

"Let me suck it!" Carrie pleaded.

"No is stings too fucking much," their father protested. I shouldn't have
cum right after I pissed. "Shit it stings."

Carrie giggled and blew bubbles with the white creamy stuff bubbling out of
her mouth. "I told you that you loved me," she chuckled before blowing a big
bubble, letting it burst across her face, and then licking up the remnants.

"I do not love you," their father protested.

"Oh, yes you do," Carrie shot back, snapping his penis back between her lips
and sucking sadistically.

"Cut that out. I said that burns. Shit. Christ, not your teeth. Don't
bite it. Shit..." he suddenly burst out laughing. "Okay, okay, you win...
I love you. Shit, I love you..."

The girls watched in fascination as Carrie released their father's penis from
between her lips and he bent over to kiss her, sucking up the creamy stuff he
had shot in her mouth. In one fluid motion, Carrie now spun the couple over
so that their father was on his back and she was on top. "Say it again," she
cooed as she took the creamy slime from her mouth and applied to the inside
of his ear with her tongue.

"You have shit all over your face," their father laughed as he swiped at
the loose turd on her cheeks and began drawing patterns with it across her
succulent, ivory-white breasts.

"You said it," she purred, snuggling up next to him and stroking his cock
lovingly in her hand. "I heard you say it, and you can never take it back."

"You know this puts a whole different spin on things?" their father observed.

"Still want me to leave?" Carrie giggled.

"Let's just say I'm putting you on probation."

"Oo, officer, I'll be good. I promise."

"Well, will just have to see about that."

    

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