"Hey, what's your name?" Larry asked, kissing her lips again.

"I'm Renee Pembroke," she answered.

"Are you Harriet Pembroke's daughter?"

Renee nodded.

Wow! Larry thought. First the mother, now the daughter.

"You're a terrific kid, Renee," Larry told her. "And now we're gonna take care of that swelling inside me. Okay?"

"Okay?" she agreed, totally trusting. "How do we do it?"

"Well," Larry told her, "I'll do most of the work. I'll fuck you, and that'll take the hot syrup out of me."

"What do you mean by 'fuck'?" she asked, naively.

"You'll see," he gasped, clutching her girlish body tightly to him, running his hand over her soft, tan thighs, possessively moving his fingers over her bumcheeks as he kissed her. This time Renee's mouth gladly opened to taste his, writhing to the pressure of his fingers over her ribs, her belly, and the front of her thighs. The girl wiggled and writhed in Larry Hunter's lap, making him hotter with each passing moment. Now he was sorry he had started with the marijuana, because it seemed to dull his senses a little. This was why he had found it so difficult to pull off when Renee had stumbled onto him.

Mother and daughter had totally different bodies. To Larry Hunter, Harriet Pembroke's body, all white, plump, and round, had been the most thrilling thing he had ever known. But Renee seemed a totally different breed of animal. She was tan where her mother was white, except for the white strip around her loins. Her mother had dark brown hair, and Renee had black hair.