The community had taken note of Phoebe’s changes and gossip flew throughout the neighborhood. Jealousy of course reared its head and nasty untrue rumors abounded. While Phoebe had been enjoying John and Jane’s attentions, these rumors were eventually whispered into the receptive ear of that pinnacle of enlightenment, the Reverend Peter Wesley now retired, Phoebe’s father. This man abhorred anything to do with sex. He was sure that it was the work of the devil sending urges to the body to commit sin. Why he knew this, was because every time some young thing walked by him, for as long as he could remember, he would have the urge to copulate. When he married, he married such a dowdy woman, that no such urges assailed him Feeling it was his duty to beget his wife with child, he had carefully waited until the books he read on the subject told him she would be fertile. Unfortunately, for the poor woman, he managed to accomplish the sinful deed with one insertion of his body cumming far too quickly to even begin to pleasure her. She had passed on a few years latter leaving behind, much to his surprise and everybody else’s, a beautiful young daughter, to be the victim of his training and religious upbringing. He felt her beauty was God’s curse for his own thoughts of moral depravity and had tried to, with some success; hide her beauty behind a veil of frumpy clothes and a trained aura of frigidity. Deep in his soul, hidden behind the severe religious beliefs, unbeknownst even to him, he had wanted to fuck her.
Naturally being the kind of man he was he believed every word of what was being whispered about her. One of the things he had heard was that she had been seen entering the old whorehouse. Since he had railed against that abomination for years he assumed that fault could be laid at the doorstep of the house, not that he wasn’t oiling his bull whip for his daughter should he be able to prove any of the accusations. He decided he would pay a visit to the house the following day. He hoped that he would catch her there in some wrong so he could beat her bare ass red and peek at her pussy, like he use to do when she was young.
John had set his alarm for seven. His mom and he had gone to bed early, after a rather long and drawn out shower, to enjoy the sensations they could bring to each other’s bodies. They had kissed and caressed for hours before passion demanded a quick fuck and then fell asleep in each other’s arms. He had purposely set the alarm early wanting to have some time with his mother before his demolition crew arrived. They both awoke to the alarm’s strident call. His mother put her arms over her head and began stretching luxuriously from the tip of her fingers to the tip of her toes, presenting a vision of nakedness that provoked another ravishment of her body, followed by the tender kisses and caresses that sealed their love. Time flew quickly and soon they had reluctantly left the warmth and comfort of their bed to face the world. John looked forward to his project, but even more to seeing his Phoebe and her friend Cynthia, who he knew to be a horny minx. His mother and he were just finishing breakfast when the doorbell rang announcing the arrival of his wrecking crew. He greeted them at the door, thanked them for coming again, and invited them in. Each, as they crossed the threshold, felt their bodies prepare for copulation, with warm moist flow and hard aching nipples. Each felt the stirrings in their loins that soon would necessitate fulfillment. The three older women simply assumed it was because they were needy of their man although his mother was surprised how soon her body again demanded his return.
The six girls knew why their pussies juiced, each, unbeknownst to the other had spent some time in the privacy of their beds with their legs spread wide teasing their pussies. With thoughts of John dancing in their heads, they drained their batteries dry. Each upon seeing him knew they had to have him and each in their own way was determined to somehow, seduce him. Mary, the blonde had even worn her own special jewelry that pierced her inner folds and dangled between her legs sending the occasional additional erotic thought to her mind. A dainty gold chain hung around her neck dangling the key to her charms between her fat, fleshy, sexy, tits. Julie had spent sometime the previous evening grooming her luxuriant pubic hair allowing the beautiful tattoo to show through her thatch. John led them upstairs and explained how he wanted to tear down all the walls on the third floor leaving the ones around his bed to last. They went at it with a will, all concentrating on the job at hand to avoid thinking about the tremors of lust that pervaded them.
Soon clouds of dust filled the air as plaster and lathe fell from the old two by fours. The doorbell rang announcing the arrival of the garbage bin. John excused himself to look after the placement of the bin and to run some errands. Soon he was back with dust masks, pails and a lightweight snow shovel along with a sledgehammer. Work continued, wall after wall came down and John reassigned the six to carrying buckets of plaster and bundles of lathe down the stairs to the bin. It was hot sweaty work and all of them soon showed the stains of moisture on their clothes. Mia, who had not worn a bra that day, noticed that John was sending surreptitious glances her way. She looked down and saw her halter had become so soaked with perspiration one side had become semi-transparent and a nipple, swollen and hard, was showing through. She was thrilled he was taking notice and flaunted it when he was near. As the lunch hour approached a steady stream of girls with the garbage of demolition left and reentered the house.
It was at this time that the Reverend Peter Wesley chose to make his appearance. Dressed all in black, including hat and long raincoat against the hint of inclement weather, which cloud and wind suggested, he stood before the old house, Old Testament wrath of God personified. If one looked closely one could see a hint of white wrapped around his scrawny neck. The black raincoat taken by the wind swirled around his tall gaunt frame and skinny limbs. He stood there, hurling prayers of damnation at the not so uncaring walls of the house. It was then that Mia lifted a bundle of lathe into the bin exposing the bottom curve of her breasts as she stretched to get the bundle in. The angry Reverend noticed and it hardened him, further enraging him as he watched the harlots work. Their fleshy bodies a simmering temptation to the pure of heart. Was his Phoebe amongst these children of the devil he asked himself? The girls had noticed him. He had been a thorn in their sides for many years. He had embarrassed each of then more than once with public tirades against the clothes and makeup they wore. He had made clear his thoughts on their tattoos and body piercings calling them the devils decorations. He had railed against them from his pulpit condemning their ilk out of hand. They all hated the old bastard.
As they returned to the house, they gathered in the foyer talking about him, wondering how they might get even while the house swirled sensations of need through their young complacent bodies. Julie was sent upstairs to advise John they were gong for lunch. Many suggestions where tossed back and forth until finally Jean the succinct, said, “Fuck him.” For a moment, the quiet Jean with so few words was misunderstood. It was assumed she was dismissing him until it dawned on them what a diabolical, clever idea she had introduced. They put their heads together and began to plan his degradation. With pussies dripping, their plans of humiliation came to fruition.
