Camilla Ch 42

As soon as Camilla got home on Monday morning, she got naked and went into the bathroom to take a shower. Candice was in the apartment when Camilla got there, but Candice stepped out after about five minutes of the warm shower water was spraying on Camilla's nude body.

Every time she lathered up the soap in her hands, she had that disturbing sight in front of her eyes: those black lines along the bottoms of the

lunulae

of her fingernails. Only now it was worse--the black lines went up in four or five needle-thin, straight strands from each

lunula

almost to the tip of each of her fingernails. The same could be seen on her toenails: her heart pounded when she reached down to wash her feet. She would have to remember always to wear nail polish to cover up those eerie-looking lines. For once, there were actually parts of her body that she

didn't

want people to see.

After cleaning her whole body, with especial attention given to making sure her vagina and rectum were immaculate, she washed her hair and rinsed it. Just as she'd got all the shampoo off her hair and body, the water was suddenly turned off. "What the f--?" she said. Then the shower curtain was pulled aside. She looked behind her and saw her soon-to-be stepfather Troy ogling her bare bottom. "Oh, hi Daddy," she said, then turned around nonchalantly, pushing her bust out. "What are you doing here?"

Now ogling her breasts and pubic hair, Troy said, "You gave me your name card, remember? It has your address on it. I can't stop thinking about you, sweetie, so I came here to see you. I hope you don't mind my not telling you I was coming."

"No, it's okay," she said after wringing her hair day. "Can you get me a towel, please?"

"Sure," he said, reaching for one. He wrapped it around her and dried her torso. She stepped up on the bathtub to get out of the shower stall, but when she stepped down to get out, he didn't back up: he caught her in his arms and continued towelling her upper body dry.

"How'd you get in?" she asked as he, backing up a few steps, dried her breasts. "I thought Candice left."

"She did," he said, "but first she let me in. I assume you already told her about me, and about how we feel about each other, and that's why she allowed me to come in while you were naked." He dried her buttocks and crotch.

"Yeah," she sighed at his patting. "How'd you get away from Mommy? She must be getting suspicious about us by now, and watching you like the hawk she is."

Disturbed by her unfilial attitude to the woman he loved, he said, "She thinks I'm shopping for a new lap-top." He opened her buttocks and dried her anus. Then he dried her legs and feet. Drying her hair with another towel, Camilla hoped he wouldn't notice the black lines on her toenails. "OK, you're all dry, sweetie," he said, putting the towel back on the towel rack.

"Can you check and see if I'm all clean, Daddy?" she said while gesturing to her vagina and anus. "I always worry thatf I've missed a few spots."

"OK, gladly," he said, and sat on the toilet. She turned around so her ass would be in front of his face. "Bend over and let's take a look."

She spread her legs and bent over so he could see her pussy and asshole. He opened her already-wet vagina wide with his fingers and looked up close. "No pee-pee smell?" she asked.

"Nope," he said as his fingers felt their way along her vaginal walls. She softly moaned as his fingers rubbed against her G- and A-spots. "Perfectly clean."

"What about my butt-hole, Daddy?" she asked, looking back at him upside-down from between her legs.

His fingers stretched her anus open and he sniffed. "No poo smell." Then he slid his finger deep inside and felt around her rectal walls. She sighed from the stimulation. The whole tunnel seemed as if it had never been used. He pulled his finger out, and was impressed to find it as clean as it was before he put it in. "Wow, you clean thoroughly."

"No poo?" she asked.

"Not the slightest smudge of brown," he said as she straightened up and turned around. His left hand now fondled her breasts while the other one fingered her cunt. "Can you forgive me for being unfaithful to your mom?"

"Oh, easily," she said in sighs. "Go ahead and cheat. She always does, that fuckin' bitch..."

"Hey!" he shouted, slapping her. "Don't talk that way about your mother!"

Camilla started to cry.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry," he said, standing up and hugging her shaking naked body close to his. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and the hidden hard-on in his pants pushed against her belly. "I shouldn't have slapped you. I just feel so guilty about..."

Suddenly, she took his head in her hands, pulled it down, and put her tongue in his mouth. As they continued French kissing, he grabbed her buttocks and fingered her anus. Then he bent his knees and kissed his way down to her right breast, which he sucked on while fingering her hard clitoris. She squealed and ran her fingers through his hair. He moved his head over to suck on the other breast, and his finger went deep inside her vagina. His other hand, still fingering her anus, started pushing its way inside. Camilla opened her buttocks wide so he could slide his finger all the way inside her rectum. Then she put her hands back on his head, stroking his hair and kissing his head as he continued sucking on her left tit. His fingers twirled around inside her vagina and rectum, stimulating the walls of both sensual tunnels. Her sighs were turning into screams, higher and higher in pitch, nearing the whistle register.

Just then, the door opened. Candice ran over to the bathroom. "Troy, get out of here," she said urgently. "Her mom's coming."

"What?" he said, pulling out his fingers and shooting to his feet.

"I saw her parking her car a block away from here as I was coming home. I think she saw me running as soon as I saw her, 'cause she started running after me."

"Hurry, Daddy!" Camilla said. "Get out before she gets here!"

"Shit!" he said, running out the front door. He went up the stairs to the next floor. Listening by the ajar door up there, he would wait to hear Collette's arrival before taking the elevator down and getting away.

Seeing the front door to Camilla's apartment still open, Collette barged in.

"Where is he?" she, out of breath, demanded. Her eyes were racing around the apartment, looking for a possible hiding place for Troy.

"Where is who, Mommy?" Camilla asked in feigned innocence.

"Don't play dumb with me, you little tramp," Collette snarled. "I saw Troy's car parked near here, and you're naked as usual." She continued searching the apartment for him. "Put your damn clothes on!"

"No!" Camilla shouted. "This is my home, and 18 years old now. I'll do whatever I want to do!"

"She always walks around naked here, Ms. Mennon," Candice added. "She's just like that."

"Whatever," Collette said. Then she looked coldly at Camilla and said, "He is here, somewhere. I've seen the way you and Troy look at each other, you're not fooling me." After looking in every possible spot he could have been hiding in and not finding him, she gave up the search. "OK, he's not here

now

, but he

was

, I'm sure of it...and he

will be

. I'll catch you two together next time."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Camilla said.

"Don't insult my intelligence, you little slut!" Collette shouted, reaching back to slap Camilla, but stopping. "You're fucking him. You never forgave me for cheating on your dad those many years ago, and you're getting you're revenge on me...again!"

"Again?" Candice asked in surprise.

"Again," Collette said. "She's tried this before, tempted my past boyfriends into having sex with her to stop me from remarrying. But not this time! I'm marrying him no matter what!" She left in a fury, slamming the door.

******************

Just after lunchtime, Camilla went to her school to do the last dress rehearsal of the production of

Hamlet

that she, Akemi, and the other students would do the next day as part of their graduation. Immediately after that, she--in a tight-fitting, light pink dress--returned to that old primary school where her kindergarten was. She'd hoped to reignite some passion with Mr. Baker, but she would receive a most unpleasant surprise when she asked for him.

Looking in Baker's classroom and not finding him there, she asked another teacher where he was. The teacher gave her a look that made her hair seem to stand on end.

"What's wrong?" she asked with widened eyes.

"Come with me," the frowning teacher said. He took her to another teacher, Mr. Finch, who used to be her grade one teacher. Yet another handsome teacher she'd once had a crush on, he was Baker's neighbour in the apartment building they lived in. The two men were also close friends. Camilla and the frowning teacher went into Finch's classroom.

"Mr. Finch," he said. "This girl..."

"Camilla?" Finch asked. "Is that you, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Mr. Finch," she said with a grin and a giggle, temporarily forgetting her worries about Baker and pleased to see Finch was as handsome as ever. "You remember me: how sweet."

"She's asking about Mr. Baker," the other teacher said.

"Oh, I see," Finch said, his smile instantly turning upside-down. The other teacher left the room, and Camilla closed and locked the door so she and Finch would have privacy. "Come with me, sweetie. I have some unpleasant news for you." They went to a private niche in the back of his classroom; he had a bed there so he could take naps whenever he had a free period. Both he and Camilla saw a new use for it. They sat on the bed. "Camilla, have you ever grown into a beautiful young lady," he said.

"Thank you, sir," she said with a 'shy' giggle; she was doing her 'Angel' persona for his pleasure. "You're not getting older, you're getting better...looking, I mean." She giggled 'shyly' again.

"Thank you, sweetie," he said. "How old are you now?"

"18," she said. "I graduate from high school tomorrow. I'm playing Ophelia in a scene from

Hamlet

."

"Really? That's amazing; I always knew you were talented. Just a scene?"

"Yeah," she said. "The play's too long for each major part to be played by just one actor, so our drama teacher is having all the graduates play just a scene for each part."

"That's great," he said, trying to hide his ogling.

"What's wrong with Mr. Baker?" Her heart started pounding with fear for the worst.

"Camilla," he began reluctantly, "Mr. Baker...committed suicide in his apartment three days ago."

"What?" she said in shock. A tear ran down her cheek.

"He'd been acting crazy since last Thursday evening," he explained. "In his apartment, he was always yelling, screaming, crying, and hitting things. I knocked on his door, but he never answered. We were tempted to call the police, but we didn't want to cause such a normally nice man any more trouble than he was already having. So there was all this craziness; then, on Friday, silence, a much-too-long silence. By Sunday, there was an awful smell coming from his room. We knocked on the door, asking him to let us in--again, no answer. Finally, we broke down the door and went in. His naked, decomposing corpse was hanging by the neck on a chandelier in his dining room. He'd left a suicide note on the dining room table. It was all about you. Here it is." Finch gave her the note.

She read it: "'All my life, I've been a lonely man. Finally, several days ago I met a former kindergarten student of mine, Camilla Mennon, now fully-grown and beautiful to behold. She led me to believe she was in love with me. We made love--the first and only time in my life a woman ever wanted me to touch her. Though I felt guilty about sleeping with a girl I hadn't seen since she was about five, I really thought she loved me. How foolish I was. Just the other day, I caught her having sex with a painter in his art shop...' Oh my God," Camilla said. "He saw me with

Carl

?" She, sobbing, continued reading: "'She said she loved him...the same way she seemed to love me! It's obvious to me now: she just likes sleeping around with any man she can find. I mean nothing to her. And what am I? A lecherous creep who slept with a former student, a girl young enough to be my daughter, if only I ever was worthy of having a daughter, or a wife, or anyone to call my own! No sex and no love makes me a worthless man. All sex and no love makes me a lecherous man. All sex and no love makes her a scarlet young woman. All sex and no love makes everyone bad people. All sex and no babies makes empty families. All...' The writing isn't making any sense now," she said in soft sobs. Finch put his arm around her.

"Yes, I know," he said. "His heart was broken, to be sure, but I can't see how he would lose his mind like that. All that incoherent, insane rambling--it's so unlike him, the laid-back man we always knew. There must have been something else to make him act in so bizarre a way. Anyway, he's dead, sweetheart. Sorry."

"Dead?" Her eyes were almost too watery to see his.

"I'm sorry." He caressed her cheek, wiping away some of her tears.

"It's all my fault," she cried. "I only wanted to make him feel good, feel loved, but I did the opposite." Overwhelmed with guilt and grief for a man she considered one of the sweetest in the world, she continued weeping, but now loudly.

"Don't blame yourself, sweetie," he said. He held her shaking body in his arms. She got up and sat on his lap, feeling his erect penis. He kissed her cheek, and she kissed his. She put her arms around him, and he, wanting to test just how 'scarlet' a girl she was, slowly unzipped her dress at the back. Encouraged by her total lack of resistance, he pulled it off of her; she allowed him to. Then he removed her high heels: she had the prettiest red nail polish on her toenails, to match her fingernails; no black lines were visible at all. He held her, in her white lace underwear, and rocked her back and forth, gently pecking her on the lips.

He unhooked her bra, and she looked acquiescently in his eyes as he removed it to reveal her large breasts. He stared at them for a few seconds, awed by their loveliness; she, still crying, looked 'shyly' in his lustful eyes. He fondled her breasts for a few moments while pecking her on the lips; then he pulled down her panties--she got up most compliantly so he could take them off. Now she was completely naked: looking up and down in adoration of her beautiful body, he couldn't believe how easy it was to get her out of her clothes! And this after Baker's suicide note condemned her so harshly for being a slut! Finch correctly supposed she'd just resigned herself to always having a stained name. Whatever her reasons for being so, Baker was right about her! She sat back on his lap, facing him. She hugged him close while his hands roamed around her skin. They reached her buttocks and squeezed them; then he fingered her anus. The lovers never stopped kissing each other on the cheeks and lips. Her sobs were now alternating with sighs of excitement.

He picked her up and laid her on her back on the bed. He got on top of her and unzipped his pants. She, still crying, spread and raised her legs for him. He pulled out his fully-erect phallus and pushed it against her vaginal opening. Her loud squeals of pleasure augmented her sobs of grief; he was worried the other teachers in the school would hear. He was fortunate to have a CD player within arm's reach: he turned it on. The volume of the music would be loud enough to drown out their cries of pleasure. He slowly slid his member further inside her soaking wet pussy: she screamed with ecstasy. When his cock--about six and a half inches long--went all the way in, she came. He kept pumping, and she kept coming in her usual multi-orgasmic way. As his cock probed her cunt, his hands caressed and squeezed her breasts. He was fascinated with them: he couldn't take his hands off of them. They were so soft! They were so big! They were so round! They were so beautiful! Her aureoles and nipples looked like those round, beige-coloured cookies one finds in a bag of assorted biscuits. Though he hadn't sucked them--he was too busy squeezing her breasts to get around to that--he was sure they were as sweet as cookies. He envied any future babies of hers, to get to enjoy such luscious treats during feeding time!

Finally, he came--inside her pussy!

"Wait," she said in sighs. "Sir, you're not wearing a condom. What if I get pregnant?"

"Don't worry," he said as he continued shooting his load inside her. "I've had a vasectomy.

Oh

!"

"Oh, OK," she said. He stopped squeezing her breasts, and let go of them; he admired their wiggling as he pulled his hands away. Then he pulled his spent penis out of her. "Did I please you, sir?"

"You...were amazing." He got off of her.

"Thank you." She got off the bed.

"I've never seen more perfect breasts in my life."

"Thank you," she giggled. "I'm glad you like them." She stood facing him so he could continue to enjoy looking at them.

"I hope I didn't hurt you, sweetie. I just got so excited. Did I squeeze them too hard?"

"It hurt a little, but it was OK. I wanted to please you. I'll stay naked for you, if you want." She walked around his classroom; putting his penis back in his pants and following her, he admired her breasts, her wispy pubic hair, her soft, smooth, round buttocks, and her pretty bare feet.

"Oh, please do." He continued followed her around as she walked, adoring her curves. "You have such a beautiful body, Camilla."

"Thank you, sir. I'll wait for your thing to get hard again, and we'll start again. What do you want to do? Put it in my poo-hole?" She bent over so he could see her anus.

"Sounds like fun; it's very pretty-looking. You don't mind us fucking after reading that suicide note?"

"Not at all," she said, opening her anus wide for him. "As my girlfriend Candice always says, 'fuck the pain away'."

"Indeed. You don't think I'm a terrible old man for having sex with you while you were crying?"

"Not at all. I've always wanted to sleep with you." His penis was getting hard again, and she went back to get her purse, which was by the bed, to get her anal lube. He followed her back into the niche. "Do you want to fuck my ass?"

"Actually, I'd like to tit-fuck you, if that's OK." He unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out.

"OK," she said, and got down on her knees. He put his cock between her breasts, and she squeezed them together.

"Please, let me hold them," he said. He grabbed them and moved his now rock-hard cock up and down in the cleavage. "

Oh!

They're so...soft and smooth!" She looked down so his imminent ejaculation would splash all over her face; she also put her hands on his ass, squeezing his buttocks. He kept sliding his cock between her tits and quickly moving her breasts up and down alternately in his hands to stimulate his erection more. Nearing orgasm, he looked down at her beautiful squatting nakedness. Oh, that perfect, creamy peach skin! How did this girl grow from the pig-tailed innocence of being a first-grader to the busty Aphrodite she was now? he wondered as his hard cock was smothered in the smoothness of her soft breasts. Finally, he blew his load in several straight shots up at her face: the first shot hit her nose--she screamed her surprise; the second shot, her right eye; the third, her lips; the fourth and last, her left cheek. His come made her tears as invisible as her nail polish had made those black lines on her nails. With his come dripping off her cheeks and nose, she looked up at him and giggled: her laughter made oblivion of her previous sobbing. She then gently wiped the tip of his cock against those parts of her face that hadn't been drenched with his come. "Thank you...for giving me...such a...good time," he moaned.