, not vice versa. She wanted to stop me from marrying you: it didn't work, because I love you. Her punishment is knowing she has a stepfather in spite of her efforts; your punishment is looking at my face for the rest of our married lives, knowing what you did." She kicked off her shoes and lay on her back on the bed.
"How is having a stepfather a punishment for Camilla?" Candice asked. She sat on the side of the bed.
"She absolutely doesn't want one, that's how," Collette explained. "In her mind, no one can replace her father, whom she's always loved to excess. She's tried ruining my marriage plans before, tempting away my previous boyfriends and fiances. Camilla never actually had sex with them...at least I don't think she ever did...but she's a sexy girl, and she uses her--assets--to get whatever she wants. Troy, you're a
man
, with a man's weaknesses. You didn't resist her because you couldn't: she made sure of that. Anyway, she hates me, she's always hated me, and she'll never forgive me for taking her away from her father."
"Collette, you've only told me about your divorce with Agape in general terms," Troy said. "What happened, exactly?"
"My nymphomania is what happened," Collette said, putting her hand on her forehead and brushing her hair back. She exhaled loudly, then continued explaining. "Now you know where Camilla gets it from: like mother, like daughter. I met her father Agape, or Aga, as I always called him, back when we were both in university, during the fourth year of our undergraduate studies. He was my boyfriend: Aga Mennon, what a sweet man. We made love one night, and he got me pregnant with Camilla. We, such good Catholics, didn't believe in abortions, so we got married. Thus I became Collette Madeleine Mennon, no longer Collette M. Nestra. He was a good husband, and great in bed--he was hung like John Holmes, let me tell you. But I was unhappy being married so young while all my friends were free and sexually active. So I cheated on Aga--many times."
Next, Collette described one encounter she'd had in her home with a man with whom she'd been having an affair. It was a Friday afternoon, when Agape was at work and little six-year-old Camilla was at school. Though Collette didn't go into any graphic sexual detail when telling Troy and Candice about the encounter, Collette's photographic memory--another trait Camilla inherited from her--allowed her to remember what had happened in vivid detail...
Assuming they'd never get caught, and thrilled at the danger of the possibility, then-28-year-old Collette brought a handsome, muscular man, 30-year-old Angus Thass, into her home at about 2 that Friday afternoon. They raced up into the bedroom. He pushed her up against a wall by the bed; both of them were breathing heavily and rapidly. He tore open her dress shirt: the buttons flew off, and her large breasts were now protected only by an ornately designed, grey lace brassiere. She frantically undid his pants as he unhooked her bra. Her breasts wiggled with freedom once exposed to his hungry eyes; her reddish-pink nipples were erect, and there were similar goose bumps on her areolae. She pulled her arms out of her shirt and bra, and he shoved his face between her breasts. She squeezed them against his cheeks and he undid her pants. He pulled them down while sucking on her right tit. She pulled his pants down. She took off his necktie and undid the buttons on his dress shirt while he pulled down her grey panties.
As she pulled his shirt off, he looked up and down at her delicious nakedness. "Oh, Collette," he sighed. "You're too hot."
Curvaceous, callipygian, and buxom, as Camilla would be in ten years, Collette had wispy black pubic hair to match the colour of the long black hair on her pretty head, and she had piercing eyes of the same colour. She was a sensuous young Latina, and while Agape's large cock had given her plenty of pleasure, she craved variety.
She pulled Angus' boxer shorts down to reveal his thick, seven-inch erection. Her eyes almost popped out of her head the first second she saw it; she was delighted to see it pointing straight at her wet pussy. "Oh, Angus," she moaned. "That's gonna feel so good inside me."
He took off his shoes and socks, and she was about to kick off her high heels when he stopped her. "Please, baby, no," he said. "Leave your heels on: I have a fetish for them."
"Anything you say, honey," she panted. The lovers took a few seconds to look at and admire the flawless perfection of each others' bodies--his muscles, and her curves; not a millimetre of unwanted fat. Then they rushed to the bed.
She got on her back and raised up her outstretched legs. He got between them, on his knees, and aimed his cock at her cunt. He got on top of her, in the missionary position, and slid it in slowly. She screamed like a banshee as she felt him filling her hole, leaving no vaginal cavity unstimulated. His thrusts were quick and aggressive; he grabbed her tits as he fucked her. She grabbed his arms and felt his muscles as she received his manhood. He grunted and she screamed in short, staccato squeals as the tip of his cock pecked at her A-spot. After several minutes of hard fucking, she came; but he was still rock-hard and ready for more.
He got off of her and sat on the side of the bed. She got off the bed and squatted between his legs, taking his cock into her mouth. She sucked her come off his long, thick shaft, then pulled it out and kissed and licked the knob. She held his scrotum in her hand and with her fingers made his balls alternately kick back and forth in a lewd burlesque. His
corpus spongiosum
was protruding, and she curved her tongue around the tube to hug it tightly while her wet lips were squeezed around his shaft. His moans and sighs grew louder and higher in pitch as he approached orgasm. He looked down at her golden coloured high heels, admiring how they augmented the beauty of her feet.
All their excitement, as well as the noise they were making, caused them not to hear someone coming into the house at an unexpectedly early time. Footsteps weren't heard coming hurriedly up the stairs, and right when Angus was about to come, the bedroom door opened. A soft, gentle voice called out, "Mommy?"
Collette pulled Angus' cock out of her mouth fearfully and turned her head to her left to look at her shocked daughter. He splashed his come all over the right side of Collette's face. Sobbing, little Camilla ran down the stairs and out of the house.
"Oh my God," Candice said. "That explains everything about Camilla. She must have been traumatized."
"Yeah," Collette said with a shameful frown and another loud sigh. "So you see, I got what I deserved tonight. That's why I forgive you, Troy. You see, I'm no better than Camilla, and she knows it. That's why she was so brazen about what she did. That's also why I
allowed
you to fuck her, Troy. I knew it would happen sooner or later, and I had to do away with my guilt somehow. God damn her school for letting all the kids go home early that day!
"Anticipating her telling her father what I'd done, I had to act fast. I didn't want to lose everything in a divorce because of my adultery, so I had to discredit Aga. I falsely accused him of molesting Camilla. Though of course no evidence was found to convict him--Aga is paradoxically as saintly as he is endowed--my lie prejudiced the judge against him, and I got custody of our daughter, I got the house as you can see around you, and I even got a restraining order against Aga."
"Oh, Collette," Troy said in shock. "How could you?"
"I know, what I did was wrong," Collette continued. "Well, tonight showed us that everything that goes around comes around. I've been punished for what I did with having to put up with Camilla's bad behaviour all these years. I'd thought putting her into an all-Catholic girls school would tame her: fat lot of good that did. She's even worse now. I'm starting to think that what she really needs to cure the slut inside her is simply to be with her dad again. Ever since he was taken out of her life, she's been looking for love in all the wrong places. I can't believe she actually became a stripper. But Aga's OK; he's teaching somewhere in Ontario now, I think."
Candice suddenly stood up in surprise. "Camilla's dad is a
teacher
?"
"Oh yeah," Collette said. "He's a professor of English literature in a university somewhere around Toronto or Hamilton, I think."
"Just a minute, Ms. Mennon," Candice said, walking toward the door. "I wanna get something out of my car." She rushed out of the house.
