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7th Heaven: Seventh Hell Part 5 (f/solo)
by Pred (pred@altavista.net)

Annie Camden could not keep her mind off the Magazine. Eric had placed it
in the shelf below the night table on his side of the bed. Annie was trying
to delve into her biography of Anne Morrow Lindberg, but she kept reading
and rereading the same paragraph over and over again. None of the words
were sinking in. All she could think of was the Magazine.

She listened to the sound of Eric playing with the twins in their room. Lucy
was doing her homework. Simon was in his room doing God knows what. * My
God, he could be masturbating right now! * The idea disturbed Annie on more
than one level. She was troubled and disgusted to think of her son polluting
his mind and body with impure thoughts and hands. * My God, he was licking
his own sperm off her body, * Mary shivered as the images flashed across her
mind. * Her young, nubile body... *

Annie tried to shake the images out of her head, but they just came back even
stronger. * She wanted to stick things up his... his. * Annie couldn't even
think the word. * Just like in the Magazine... the women sticking those
things up that man's... his... * She stopped herself and almost screamed.

Something was rubbing her vagina, strumming her clitoris. Something was in
her bed, under the covers, inside her nightgown. She thrashed around on the
mattress trying to escape from its clutches. She brushed back the hair in
her face, and a familiar smell seeped into her nostrils. * My hand?! * she
looked at her fingers in horror. They glistened with her inner juices. * Oh
my God, it was me, * she screamed to herself. * I'm... masturbating... *

She remained perfectly still for what seemed eternity, not daring to move
lest she begin stimulating her nether regions again. God, how her body
scalded and seethed - her breasts, her stomach, her clitoris, her vagina,
even her anus. She tried to shut off the sensations, but that only called
back the images again - Simon, Deena, the people in the Magazine.

The Magazine!

It drew her across the bed like a magnet. She was helpless to stop herself.
She crawled across the mattress like a dog sniffing a bone. She hung over
the side of the bed and scooped the brown bag off the shelf.

"... it's Eric... Eric Camden, Simon's father..." Her husband's voice
startled Annie, and she shot a terrified glance to the door. Nothing. "...
I think we need to talk about what happened today with Simon and Deena..."
Eric was talking on the cordless phone in the twins room, calling Deena's
parents to discuss what had happened earlier that day with their children and
the Magazine.

* That gives me some time, * Annie thought to herself. She fired one more
look at the door, then slid the Magazine out of its sheath. She crawled back
to her side of the bed on her stomach, and picked up a copy of Christianity
Today. She quickly slid the Magazine in between the open pages of
Christianity Today. Then she lay back in her bed, sighed and let the fire
creep up from her belly. In seconds, the burning spread all along the soft
rolls of her mature flesh, consuming every last inch of her body, inside and
out. With one hand she hiked up her sweat-soaked nightie, pulling it up to
her neck so that her middle-aged breasts wobbled free. With her other hand,
she pulled down the elastic waistband of her drenched cotton panties. She
rubbed her thighs, spread her labia and found her burning clit with
trembling, determined fingers.

Returning her attention to the Magazine, she began flipping through the
pages. She all but skipped the photos of the man and the woman, going
straight to the pictures of the two women copulating with each other.
Unconsciously, instinctively, she drew circles around the outside of her
clitoris. She climbed inside the confines of the photo and placed her own
pussy against the hungry, feminine tongue.

* Yes, sweet Jesus... * she blasphemed to herself as she recalled that summer
long ago at the Christian Youth Camp. She'd been thirteen, and it was the
first time she'd ever been away from the security of her parents, her family.
She was lonely. She had no friends. All the other girls seemed so much more
mature, more beautiful, more stylish. She hated their self-assuredness,
their confidence. One morning, when the cabin was empty, she'd stole back
inside and just trashed the place. All the girls' stuff lay strewn about
like a hurricane had swept through the bunkhouse.

It hadn't taken the counselors long to figure out who had done it. That was
when Lucy Hartwell, the head counselor, took Annie on a walk. As soon as she
confronted Annie, the frightened girl cracked. She sobbed and buried her
face in the older woman's bosom. Lucy had soothed her bangs and petted her
hair. They kept walking and talking and holding each other until they
reached a solitary cabin miles from the camp. Lucy explained that the
counselors used the cabin when they needed to "get away" for awhile.

Lucy invited Annie inside. It was warm and cozy and smelled of cedar. Lucy
made them some tea, and they talked more. Annie cried some more, and Lucy
massaged her shoulders and back. At some point, Annie removed her shirt, and
felt Lucy's fingers and then her lips caress her bare back. Annie went limp
and let Lucy carry her over to a small day bed by the window. Sunlight and
dust motes washed over their bodies in a glittering flurry. Lucy removed her
own tee-shirt and pressed her breasts into Annie's nervous, shuddering mouth.
Annie inhaled the older woman's warm, soft breast-flesh and nursed until the
sobbing and the shivering stopped.

Then Lucy Hartwell pushed Annie onto her back and parted her young, coltish
legs. It seemed to take forever to slide Annie's shorts down her sweaty,
skittish thighs. Annie was half-fighting, half-assisting. She remembered
saying "please" over and over again. Not "please stop" or "please continue,"
just "please." Annie could recall every twitch her young body made, every
tense undulation rippling through her bare tummy. Lucy Hartwell sucked
prayers from her budding breasts, whispered unction into the well of her
navel, then alighted upon her pure virgin nest like a dove, baptizing her in
a river of orgasm.

* Oh, Lucy ... * Annie Camden bit the hem of her nightgown to stifle her
moans. * I've never forgotten you... *

Eric had been puzzled when Annie insisted they name their second daughter
Lucy. Lucille was hardly a mainstream Biblical name like Matthew or Mary,
or even Simon, Ruthie, Samuel or David. But Annie had insisted, and Eric,
as always, yielded to his wife. Whenever she saw her daughter Lucy, Annie
couldn't help but fondly recall the woman who had made love to that entire
thirteenth summer, the woman who had taken her to heights of passion she
had never climbed again.

Lying there in her bed, her womb splayed open, her mind's eye thrilling to
images she'd denied herself for thirty years, Annie's whole body wept. She
shut out the rest of the cosmos and just concentrated, focusing all her
energy on the pinpoint of passion she'd rediscovered beneath the hood
cloaking her soul. She wet her finger with her own saliva and flicked at
stubborn urge that had refused to die inside her. She felt a woman's
tongue... a younger woman's tongue... a girl's curious, innocent, eager
tongue .. her graceful catlike tongue darting in and out of the folds of
Annie Camden's weeping womb.

* Oh, God yes... * Annie muffled her moans with her nightgown, stuffing it
inside her mouth like a gag. She closed her eyes and converted the Magazine
pictures into familiar faces. The warm cozy nest was hers, and the girl
cuddling up inside her was... * God, NO! *

Annie Camden tried to shut out the flood of images, but she'd released the
gate, and now she was swept up in the flood. She closed her eyes and
resigned herself to the tide, her mind's eye tumbling headfirst into the
vision she had tried to deny, the vision of the face, the smiling beaming
beautiful face that licked her clitoris with a mischievous smile.

* That's it... Lucy... my darling daughter...* she finally allowed herself
to attach the name to the face hovering in and out of consciousness.
* That's my Lucy. My darling daughter. Such a good little girl. Lick it.
Right there. Lick your mommy. Lick her good. Oh, God, yes, Lucy... *

Annie opened her eyes and riffled the Magazine pages to the end. She stroked
her clitoris even harder as she saw the women strapping on their dildos,
preparing to assault the tied up white man. She looked at the man crying as
the women sodomized him. She closed her eyes and saw Eric's face. He was
screaming and crying as she anally penetrated him with one of the large,
black, strap-on dildos.

Her husband, the Reverend Camden, was begging her to stop, pleading with her.
But his hard penis said just the opposite. He stroked it furiously while she
split open his white ass with the merciless black dildo. He pumped his stiff
cock with an inhuman frenzy while he shrieked to his God to save both their
damned souls.

But then his plaintive wailing ceased, and his prayers for forgiveness were
muffled into a gagging sound. In her mind's eye, she looked over her
husband's shoulders to see what had silenced him. It was Lucy, her daughter,
driving another huge black dildo down Eric's mouth, choking his prayers into
a weak, sputtering drool. Mother and daughter grinned at each other and
exchanged high fives over the broken body of the once proud Man of God,
pounding his body at either end until Eric Camden was reduced to a quivering
shell of a man. Then Lucy, her darling daughter, leaned over and kissed her
mother on the lips. * Thou art my beloved daughter, in whom I am well
pleased .. *

* * *

"Yes, I understand," Eric Camden nodded his head into the phone receiver.
"We've spoken to Simon already. I told him he wouldn't be allowed to see
Deena anymore. I just wanted to talk with you and let you know how seriously
Annie and I are taking this." Eric was shaking slightly. He'd dealt with
many crises before, but not like this, not with his own son.

"You say she had a magazine ..?" Deena's father sounded concerned as well.

"Yes, do you know where she would have gotten such a thing?"

"I do have some Playboys around the house..."

"This wasn't Playboy," Eric cut him off. "It was much more... graphic. What
they call hardcore pornography."

"Oh..."

"Do you have any idea where she could get something like this?" Eric
repeated. "The very idea that a girl Deena's age could have access to
something as harmful as this really concerns me."

"It was probably some kid at the school," her father offered. "Kids are
always coming by stuff like that."

"But where? No place in town sells this kind of filth. The nearest adult
bookstore is thirty miles away."

"You got me, Reverend. I just don't know."

"Maybe you could talk to her," Eric suggested.

"I'll... try."

"I didn't say it would be simple. But I really do think it's important.
Communication between a father and his daughter can be crucial at a time like
this. We need to teach our children to be strong men and women who respect
each other the way the Lord respects us all." Eric couldn't help but
sermonize a little.

"Uh, yeah, sure... I guess..."

"Meanwhile," Eric continued. "I'll call around myself. Maybe I can turn
something up."

"Um... thanks, Reverend."

"Don't mention it. Bye." Eric clicked off the cordless phone and looked
over to the sleeping twins. Not wanting to awaken them, he tiptoed out of
the room and stole into his bedroom. "Annie?" he asked. "Are you all
right?"

His wife was flushed and bathed in sweat. Her body was trembling and she
didn't even seem to notice he was there. He closed the door and walked over
to the bed. She was shivering violently, biting her lip and jerking her hips
about. She was having a seizure. Eric threw off the covers, and the
Christianity Today magazine she clutched went spilling to the floor. From in
between the pages, another magazine slid out .. THE Magazine.

Then it hit Eric Camden. His wife wasn't having a seizure. She was
masturbating. Annie had been using the Magazine to masturbate. His knees
felt weak and his nauseous stomach seemed to drop into his colon. "Honey?"
He didn't know what else to say as he scooped up the magazine.

"Oh... hi..." Annie looked up at him through a haze of sheer bliss. Her
sweaty body was fully exposed to him. Her nightgown was bunched all the way
up to her neck. Her pendulous breasts sagged down her torso, her nipples
jetting out from the rosy flesh of her aureoles like pencil erasers. The
crotch of her panties had been pushed to one side, and her hand was coaxing
the last tremors of an orgasm from her sopping, furry nest. "You caught me,"
she managed a weak smile. "Oh, God, I haven't done that in a long long
time."

Eric couldn't look at his wife, so he turned his eyes down. Only now they
rested on the full color pages of the Magazine. Photos of the two women
engaging in lesbianism stared up at Eric. * This was what she was looking
at? * The thought shocked him.

Annie noticed his confusion and tried to laugh. "It's only a fantasy, dear."
She reached out and stroked his arm reassuringly.

"Uh huh..." Eric Camden didn't know what else to say. He gazed back on his
wife's sweaty, vulnerable flesh, and felt his penis stiffen. * No! * he
rebuked himself. * Not now! *

"Come here," Annie pulled him down onto the bed and fished her hands into his
zipper fly. She felt his hardness and smirked. "Oh, poor baby," she cooed
as she pulled out the shaft from between the teeth of his zipper. "Let mommy
take care of that for you," she giggled.

"This is wrong," Eric pulled away from her and stood up. His hard penis
jutting out from the hole in his fly. He let the Magazine drop to the bed
and tried to tuck his stubborn organ back into his pants.

Annie picked up the Magazine and turned to the back pages. "Do you think
that would hurt?" she giggled. She showed Eric the photos of the white man
getting anally and orally penetrated by the women's artificial penises.

"This isn't funny, Annie," Eric didn't know what to say or do. He'd never
seen his wife act like this, not even on their honeymoon. * What in Heaven's
name has gotten into her? * "It isn't funny at all," he repeated in his
sternest tone.

"I think it is," she replied, waving the picture in his face. "I think it's
hilarious. Look at him, the big strong man getting his butt..."

"Put it away... please," Eric snapped. To his horror, he felt his arm raise
and his fingers curl into a fist. * My God, what am I doing? * He let his
arm fall limply to his side, and his penis followed suit.

Annie looked disappointed when she saw him go flaccid. An evil glint
sparkled in her eye. "Have you ever wondered what that would feel like?"
She pointed to a picture of the man's white asshole blasted apart by the
thick black dildo. "Who knows? You might like it."

"I... I'm going downstairs," Eric could barely speak. He shook his head and
practically stormed out of the bedroom.

    

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