How many married people realize only after a number of years have gone by that their "partner for life" is to them what the albatross around the neck was to the Ancient Mariner? The divorce statistics' answer: too many.
Those we least suspect are often ripest for a break-up. Living outwardly normal lives, attending the local PTA meetings together, hosting backyard neighborhood barbeques, their inner lives are filled with disappointment, regret, and frustration.
For Ruth, the young Mrs. in this story, a worsening marital relationship calls for drastic measure-measures which send her through a series of unusual, sometimes depraved set of adventures, leading to, she hopes, resolve.
HOT TWIN MOTHERS-a story of the pitfalls some people experience during marriage; a story which, sadly, is a backdrop for too many in today's society.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
Lori stood at the side of the bed smiling invitingly at me. When her clothing fell to the floor and she was naked, it was like looking at myself in the mirror. Only I was a lot more turned-on.
"How long has it been, Ruth?" she asked, reaching forward to undo the buttons on my blouse.
"Almost five years," I said. "After your marriage to Jerry broke up and left town."
"Wow, it has been that long, hasn't it?" she sighed. "It's hard to believe."
By now she had my blouse completely unbuttoned and the twin cups of my bra were showing. She chuckled.
"What's so funny, Lori?" I asked defensively.
"Still wearing a bra, I see," she said. "With perfect tits like we've got, Ruth, it's a crime to
cover them up the way you do. Since I walked out on Jerry and left the straight life, I haven't had a bra on once. I'd probably strangle myself if I tried to put one on now."
"But I'm not you, Lori," I protested. "Just because we're identical twins doesn't mean we're just alike in every way."
"We were once," she pointed out. "When I was still married to Jerry and living the straight life of a good, little housewife, nobody could tell us apart. Our husbands were even balding in the same spot."
"But then you changed," I brought us further up to date. If Dad and Mom hadn't died, I'll be they wouldn't even be able to tell we were sisters anymore."
"With our clothes on," Lori accurately amended. "Even though I haven't seen your body in five years, I'll bet it's still sensational-just like mine."
For emphasis she playfully wiggled her hips and bobbed her large but firm breasts up and down. Despite her movement nothing quivered because there wasn't an ounce of fat on her luscious form. God, I hoped I still looked as much like her naked as I thought I did.
"Well, let's get this monstrosity off your tits and find out," Lori got down to business. "There's no point in keeping ourselves in suspense any longer. Now how does this cotton pickin' thing work?"
"It's elastic all the way around."
"No clasps."
"Those went out a long time ago," I couldn't help but chuckle when it came to Lori's naivete about the middle-class world of which she had once been such a militant member. "Just slip if off over my head."
She did and abruptly my breast were bared. Rapidly glancing back and forth between them and Lori's, I couldn't tell the difference. They were mirror-images of each other.
"Are you nipples as hard as mine?" Lori asked.
"I don't know," I answered. "You'll have to feel them to find out."
"I was hoping you'd say that. Mind if I use my tongue? It's so much more sensitive than just my fingers."
Before I could say anything, her mouth was against one of my breasts, encircling the nipple. The tip of her tongue began to flutter like a hummingbird's wings.
"Mmmmmmm, is it hard?" I moaned uncontrollably, knowing the answer in advance.
"As a rock," Lori murmured with a mouthful of tit. "Check out mine."
She took my hand and thrust it to her chest. My fingers automatically opened just before the point of impact and grabbed a handful of breast.
Gradually I tapered my fingers down the mammary slope. When I reached her nipple, I seized it.
"How hard am I, Ruthie?" she eagerly asked.
"Sensational," I assured her. "What about your pussy," she lasciviously changed the subject without changing it at all. "Is it as wet as mine?"
This was one thing I could easily check out. When I rubbed my thighs together it felt as though I were immersed in a pail of hot slush. Yes, my cunt seemed easily as damp as Lori's visibly dripping specimen.
"My cunt is soaking," I laid it on the line. "I guess you turn me on as much as you ever did."
"The feeling is mutual," she smiled. "Now let's get the rest of those awful clothes off you and do the number. My tongue is aching for the inside of your sweet pussy, Sis."
By now I was panting to go all the way. I helped Lori rip away my skirt, and then took care of my panties by myself. They were drenched. As they rolled down my thighs I could tell that they were ruined.
"Open your legs, Ruthie," Lori excitedly instructed when I was completely naked. "Lie back and show me that you're still my identical twin in every way."
It was a pleasure to do as she asked. God, it felt so good-so natural-to spread-eagle myself in front of my horny, bare-ass sister for the first time in five years.
"Sixty-nine," I murmured the numerical name of the lesbian sex-act which I craved. "I'm ready for you, Lori, Jesus knows I'm ready to suck your cunt while you suck mine."
"Coming right up!" she joyously replied, hopping onto the bed, and turning her body 180 degrees. Straddling me, she hovered over me like a crab, her cunt and asshole pouting just inches from my face. My mouth actually watered.
"How'm I doing down there, Ruthie?" Lori asked.
"You haven't changed a bit in five years," I honestly answered. "Your pussy still doesn't sag anyplace, and your asshole is as pink as a rosebud. How do you do it, Lori?"
"The same way you do, Sis," she gushed. "You're a dream between the legs. Just the same as when we were teenagers and first started making love."
I can't tell you how good that made me feel. A compliment from one's identical twin sister of this nature was just about the most intimate tribute a woman could receive.
"Remember the first time we ever made it together?" Lori sighed.
"How could I forget," I laughed. "We were both in the bedroom trying on our cheerleader costumes for the first time."
"God, you looked great without the tights on," Lori giggled just like a schoolgirl. "I'll never forget when you did the splits."
"Or when you stood on your head in the same condition," I lapsed back into fond memories.
"We must have made love for hours that afternoon," Lori sighed. "I remember I fucked you and broke your cherry with one of Dad's pipes."
"Sonny Carson had already taken care of yours under the football bleachers by more orthodox means, if I recall correctly," I said dryly.
"Yeah, with a hard-on that was all of six inches," Lori recalled. "It's hard to believe I gave away my cherry to a popgun like Sonny Carson's. Nowadays I won't have anything to do with a guy unless he's hung at least ten inches."
Her boastful nature automatically made me think about the man in my life. My husband Rick's cock was only about as long as the one Lori had just jeeringly disparaged on her long-ago teenage lover.
"Why, Ruth, you're blushing!" she blurted to my acute embarrassment. "I can see it all the way down here in your crotch. Your pussy lips are turning bright red."
"Stop gabbing and start sucking if you're so hungry for my cunt," I attempted to cover up my abruptly surging anxiety. "Let's forget about men and just make love the way only two women can."
"Two sisters," Lori refined my plea, considerately taking the line of the least resistance in the face of my sudden attack of nerves. "The way only identical twin sisters can make love."
She knew I would tell her what was bothering me in my own good time. In the meantime, nothing would make me forget my troubles like some fervent sixty-nining. The disappointing reality of everyday life could wait, there was passionate love to be made.
Lori's tongue dipped into the crevice of my twat as though she were a child sampling a fresh pot of honey. She slurped up a big glob of pussy juice, and I could hear her gulp as she swallowed it. I'd have to return the favor.
Eagerly, I brought my pursing mouth up between her delectably spread haunches. The closer I got the more the strong scent of her pussy made my nostrils flare.
Then, for the first time in five years, the lips of my mouth were squashing crossways against the lips of my sister's cunt. It was like sipping cold champagne after almost dying of thirst in the desert.
Lord, where had the time gone? It had just flown by. It seemed like only yesterday instead of almost twenty years that I had tasted Lori's snatch for the first time, and only a moment ago for the last time.
Sucking vigorously, I drew a blob of Lori's female cream into my mouth. Rather than hurriedly gulping it, I let it slide luxuriously down my throat under its own slurpy power. By the time it hit my stomach it had fully intoxicated me. , As Lori's tongue stiffened and rammed into my twat like an oral hard-on, I did the same to her. Because of our uncanny genetic similarity, and long experience, we knew just at what points to emphasize our stimulation of one another. Soon both of us were crying out in orgasmic fury.
Finally, Lori pulled away from my oozing pussy and asked a question which might have seemed curious to an outsider, but which I understood implicitly. "What have you got in the refrigerator?" she said with a big shit-eating grin.
"How does a chorizo sausage grab you?" I grinned back.
"Super!" she exclaimed, and bounced off the bed to go claim her reward in the kitchen. I was so excited I could hardly stand it.
She returned with one end of the chorizo stuffed up her cunt, and the other several inches dangling from between her legs. She looked just like she owned a greasy, brownish-orange dick.
"Fuck me!" I screamed, just like old times. "Stick it in me as far as it'll go and fuck me until it hurts!"
"My pleasure, Sis," she said as she came to the bed, fondling the semi-erect piece of meat.
"Get it hard, first," I begged her. "Make it hard."
The grimacing that distorted her beautiful face showed how much effort she was putting into tightening her pussy muscles. When she had them clenched to the ultimate, the free end of the chorizo jumped into rigidity, splitting the air at a ninety degree angle from her body.
Kneeling between my open legs, she held the twitching sausage just like a hard-on, and guided it toward my gaping cunt. "Fuck me ... fuck me ... fuck me," I chanted endlessly.
Then the rounded head was slipping between my quivering labia. The penetration was easy and greasy.
"Further ... further!" I pleaded. "Fuck me all the way! I've been waiting for this five years!"
"So have I," Lori panted. "So have I."
Fucking this way was something we'd done way back in high school. It had started with some foot-long hotdogs Mom bought for the Fourth of July, and graduated up into bratwurst, ring bologna, and chorizo. Our mother couldn't figure out why we'd suddenly started begging her to bring home tons of sausage every time she went to the store.
Lori had perfected the trick of making the sausage as stiff as a male boner one rainy afternoon when Mom and Dad were out of town at an aunt's funeral. We'd cut school, and then found ourselves with nowhere to go because of the rotten weather. Just fooling around with one end of Polish sausage in her cunt, Lori accidentally discovered that she was capable of erection if she bore down intensely enough.
"Oh my God!" I gasped. "The answer to a girl's dreams."
She'd lost no time in screwing me with her new invention, and now almost two decades later she was reliving the grand event. Inch after inch of thick, tubular meat was sliding up my fuck-hole and I felt like a young girl again instead of the burnt-out, bored housewife I really was.
When the free end of the chorizo was all the inside my cunt, I began fucking back as good as I was getting it. The great thing about two women screwing with the same phallic substitute is that they can each be the aggressor once penetration is complete.
I was in ecstasy, coming and coming and coming. The deeper my twin sister drove the dildo up my snatch, the more powerfully I replied with a driving pelvic thrust. This was fucking as it should be.
And I couldn't help but think how much it was unlike when I made love with my modestly endowed husband. Looking back, about all I had to show for the many times I'd numbly submitted to Rick's sexual demands were two children. Honestly, I couldn't remember a bona-fide orgasm.
I was temporarily diverted from my introspection when the skin of the sausage started to burst in my cunt. All of a sudden hot Spanish juice came flowing from the rupture, flooding my fuck-hole with scalding greasiness.
The same thing was happening between Lori's legs because she was moaning, "God, Ruthie, your cum is so hot." When you made my sister come, she showed her appreciation by really making you feel like a million bucks.
When we were finally spent, we lay side by side on the bed, sharing a cigarette. Although I tried to fight it, during this lull my negative thoughts about my husband and role as an ordinary wife and mother resurfaced. Without raw sex to divert me, I couldn't make my anxiety go away.
"What's wrong, Ruth?" Lori eventually noticed how tense I was starting to get when I should have been languishing without care in the afterglow of love making.
"N ... nothing," I lied, but my nervous stammer easily gave me away. Lori could always tell I was lying when I tripped over my words.
"Hey, come on kid, this is your big sister you're talking to," she reprimanded me. "No holding back."
It was true, Lori was born a few minutes before me. It was always a private joke between us that she was my big sister.
I decided that if I couldn't trust my twin sister, there was nobody I could turn to. God know the rest of my family-Rick and the kids-ignored me enough. Dad and Mom were dead, of course. Having someone in which to confide was just too great a temptation for me to resist.
"It's ... my ... life ..." I blurted out between sobs.
"What's wrong, darlin'?" Lori soothingly asked as though she were talking to her daughter rather than her sister.
"Oh, everything and nothing," I displayed my confusion. "I can't put my finger on anything, but everything about my life seems wrong. Do you understand, Lori?"
"Do I," she said with a great deal of authority. "Why do you think I left Jerry? I was exactly in the same kind of trap you're in now."
"Are ... are you suggesting that I desert my husband?" I gasped incredulously.
"Well, why not?"
"You know why, Lori. I still ... still think of marriage as a sacred thing. I just couldn't leave Rick no matter how dissatisfied I was."
"Then, Sis," she shook her head, "it looks like you're stuck. Even your big sister can't help you if you won't help yourself."
What she said didn't offend me. Down deep, despite all my scruples, I knew she was right. I suspected that it wasn't my morality that was keeping me from leaving Rick so much as my fear of being on my own.
"Oh, if only I had your courage, Lori," I spontaneously gave my sister a peek at my inner most feelings. "If only I could just trade places with you for awhile so I could see what it's like to live your kind of life without any risk."
She looked at me as though I'd just said something profound. Before long her studious pause began to make me uncomfortable. Usually I could tell what she was thinking, but not now.
"Repeat that," she finally said. "The last thing you said."
"Oh, that." I was perplexed. "It was something about trading places with you. I'm sorry, it was something like a kid would say."
"No, no," she contradicted me. "It was pure genius. Sheer and utter genius," "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't you see, you little dumbbell," Lori bubbled, "we could change places if you really wanted to do it."
"You're nuts."
"Am I? Just think about it, Ruth. We've already agreed we look just as much alike as ever. Am I right?"
I had to agree that she was correct.
"Then if we decided to do it-switch places," she continued, "who would know but us? Let's face it, twinsie, we're interchangeable."
"But what could changing places accomplish?" I protested my own fantasy now that it threatened to become reality.
"Simple," Lori said matter-of-factly, warning me with the firm edge of her voice that I was not going to be able to dispute her logic. "For one thing it'll give you a chance for a vacation from your family, at the very least, and a taste of what really living on your own and free is like."
"What do you get out of it?" I asked suspiciously.
"I get to build a fire under Rick. If you decide to come back home, believe me, I'll have him smoldering for you. Come on, Ruth, what do you say, let's do it!"
It was so far out, it was irresistible. Just like the old days when Lori and I used to play pranks unsuspecting boy friends.
My spirits were lifted. Considering the downhill course my life had been taking, Lori's offer was one I couldn't refuse.
"All right," I finally gave in when she pressed again for my decision. "I'll do it for a weekend."
"No, no," she laughed, "it has to be at least a whole week. If we're going to get our feet wet we might as well jump all the way in. What do you say, Ruthie, we'll switch places for seven days. Is it a deal?"
CHAPTER TWO
My second thoughts about going through with the plan were immediate, but I was afraid to express them in the face of Lori's robust enthusiasm, "What's the sense of being identical twins unless we take advantage of it?" was how she put it, and I didn't have the courage to argue.
At lunch the next day we exchanged lists of things we should know about each others' everyday lives in order to bring off our impersonations. Lori chuckled at the one I gave her, and I was wide-eyed at the one I was reading.
"Do you really, uh, see all these people you've got down here on a regular basis?" I asked cautiously.
"See 'em? she giggled. "Hell, I have sex with them. Why do you think I left Jerry?"
"Well, what ... what am I supposed to do about all these people?" I apprehensively asked.
"Whatever you want, Sis, whatever you want!" she laughed uproariously.
There was a hideous pause. I felt like such a child. Even though she was only minutes older than I, Lori could always make me feel this way.
"What about my list?" I tried to change the subject "Do you understand everything I've put down there?"
"Do you really expect me to clean the bathroom on Monday, wax the kitchen floor on Tuesday, do the laundry on Wednesday, fix Rick his meatloaf on Friday?"
"Yes, you'll have to," I firmly interrupted her. "If you don't, nobody will believe you're me no matter how much we look alike."
There was another pause, but this one was not as uncomfortable as its predecessor. I felt like I had drawn even with Lori and that we were now at truce. For some reason it gave me a great deal of satisfaction to know that I had made my sister as uncomfortable with the facts of my life-style as she had made me with hers.
Conversation went along easily from that point, and by the time we were finished with lunch we were ready to make the switch. When we left the restaurant I gave Lori my car keys and she left for the suburbs in the family station wagon. As for myself, I scouted around for her little Vespa, and then rode it to her pad in the inner city's artists' quarter.
Lori had moved back into the city about a year ago, but she hadn't gotten in touch with me until our meeting of just the other day. She said she'd wanted to get her head together before we had our reunion because she was messed up for awhile on drugs. When I found the correct address in the artists' quarter, it was the first time I'd seen where my sister had lived for the past twelve months.
It didn't look like much from the outside compared to the relative suburban splendor in which I lived. Rick, the kids and I shared a heavily mortgaged split-level ranch house that looked like the Taj Mahal compared to the crumbling brownstone where Lori rented her apartment. As I made my way up the dingy stairs, I prayed that she didn't have cockroaches.
Sandy, Lori's fifteen year old daughter was waiting for me. "Why'd you knock for, Mom?" she greeted me at the door, confronting me with first blunder. "Did you lose your key?"
"No, no," I muttered, "I just had something on my mind Na-" Suddenly I held my breath. I'd almost called Sandy, Nancy, my real teenage daughter's name.
"Is there something wrong, Mom?" Sandy said with real concern.
"Maybe I should lie down," I sighed. "I must have been out in the sun too long."
"I'll get you something cool to drink, Mom," Sandy offered once we were inside. "What would you like?"
"A martini would be nice," I said, as I draped myself over the rattan couch. To my surprise, Sandy's eyebrows rose dramatically when she heard my request.
"Mom, she wagged her finger at me, "you promised. No more drugs."
"Since when is a martini a drug?" I responded in complete perplexment.
"Alcohol is the worst drug, Mother, you know that," Sandy snapped. "You promised you'd stay clean. I'm surprised at you, I really am."
I was surprised at myself for being so dumb. Lori had warned me that her daughter was trying to keep her clean.
"Well, I guess the only vice I'll be able to keep is sex," I said something like the real Lori would say, hoping to cover up the awkwardness of my impersonation so far.
"Thatta girl," Sandy fell for it. "I'll go get you some Tiger's Milk."
While I was forcing myself to sip the noxious-tasting substance, Sandy told me about the date she had that night. His name was Mickey and he was a drummer in a rock band.
At first the conversation was very much like one I might have with my own adolescent daughter about dating. Then there was a departure, gradual at first, shockingly abrupt at its conclusion.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"He's coming over here, of course," Sandy impatiently answered, as though I should have known this in advance.
"Well, uh, do ... do you want me to go out someplace then?" I improvised.
"What for?" Sandy blurted incredulously.
"I just assumed you and Mickey would want to be alone."
"Mother, you're kidding!" she wailed. "How can you do this to me? Your own flesh and blood!"
"I beg your pardon," was all I could think of to say. I felt completely in the dark, and was certain my switch with Lori was breaking down right here and now.
Fortunately, however, Sandy was too upset to pay attention to anything but her own disappointment at the moment. She may have spent the last five years of her young life being raised in a counter-culture environment, but right now she was behaving just like any pampered kid in the suburbs who hadn't gotten her way. Somehow this revelation restored my faith that I could handle the situation.
"Why don't you sit down and tell me about it, dear?" I interrupted Sandy's fussing and fuming.
She plopped down on the couch with me, draping my legs over her lap since I was still lying down. As she got ready to tell me her problem, I felt like I had rallied and was in control of things for the first time.
Then Sandy spoke and shattered my illusion that a mother is a mother regardless of the environment.
"You know yourself, Mom, a heavy dude like Mickey would only ask me out if he could get to meet you," Sandy said rapidly. "Your reputation is the only way I can get dates with really groovy guys."
I bolted upright as though one of the sofa's springs had burst through the upholstery. Sandy was implying that she and her mother were rivals for the same young men. And I didn't need to play twenty questions to figure out the probable nature of Lori's "reputation."
"If Mickey gets to ball you first then it'll be easy to get him in my pants," Sandy excitedly confirmed my worst suspicions. "I'll just die if I don't get to fuck him!"
"Uh, just what's so special about this young man beside the fact that he's a rock musician?" I asked, leaving myself open in my dazed condition for a verbal knockout blow.
"Mickey Rice has the biggest cock of any rock drummer around," Sandy informed me with great intensity. "And drummers are all famous for their hard-ons in the first place, so you can imagine what this dude's is like."
"Have ... have you seen it?"
"Yeah," she beamed. "He let me give him a blow-job one night during a set. I've always been good at deep-throating since you taught me how, but I swear I couldn't get this stud's prick all the way down my throat no matter how hard I tried. God, I can't wait to feel that monster in my tight pussy!"
There was no point in even attempting to think of some appropriate way to respond. Now that I was getting an adequate glimpse into it, I was aghast at the life-style of the person whom I was supposed to be for the next seven days. I silently prayed for God to help me survive this ordeal I'd gotten myself into with some small measure of dignity.
"Mom," Sandy chirped, just like my down daughter when she was going to ask her mother a question about being a woman, "what's the biggest cock you've ever had?"
Well, I had to answer. Obviously, Lori would have-and I was Lori for the next week.
"A foot long." I recalled a football tackle I had screwed in the backseat of a Volkswagen in high school. Of course, what I didn't say was that my husband's pitiful six-incher was the only dork I'd had anything to do with in the last sixteen years.
"Oooooooh," she squealed, "what's it like-an entire foot of hard prick up your snatch? You took it all, didn't you, Mom?"
I nodded my head, and it wasn't a lie. All of a sudden I had a vivid memory of the football player's hairy balls scraping against my pussy lips while he fucked me to the hilt.
"It felt like he was splitting me in two," I blurted.
"How hard did you come, Mom?" my temporary daughter asked with wide-eyed interest.
"Enough to cover up the pain," I honestly informed her. "I was still tingling on the way home."
"Was it your best fuck ever?" Sandy wanted to know with bubbling eagerness.
How should I answer? I felt like I was painted into a corner.
"Oh, that's all right, Mom," Sandy soothed, catching on to my reluctance to answer. I was very grateful for her understanding.
She gently rubbed my legs, and I sighed in appreciation. Her touch seemed to soften the tension I felt.
"Up higher," I said without thinking of anything but how good her fingers felt against the bare skin of my legs.
She went higher than I had anticipated. All the way up under the denim skirt I had borrowed from Lori.
But I didn't stop her. Even when she was caressing the inside of my loins. "Feel good, Mom?" she crooned. I had to agree that it did.
"Mmmmmmm," she smirked, "you're wearing panties. When did you take that up, Mom?"
"I had lunch with my sister today at a midtown restaurant," I told the truth, but in reverse. "I wanted to be respectable."
"Well, you're not now," Sandy chuckled. "Your panties are soaking wet. They're clinging so hard I'll have to peel them off."
Suddenly it was taken for granted that Sandy would strip me. It went against every grain of my usual lifestyle, but under these circumstances I didn't protest. To tell the truth, I wanted the sticky panties off of me as much as my niece and temporary daughter did.
Slipping her slim fingers under the elastic waistband, Sandy rolled the dripping nylon down my hips and legs. When the panties reached my ankles, I kicked them off on my own, and they landed with a wet splat in a corner. My skirt was bunched around my waist and my bare pussy was right out in the open.
Falling between my legs, she began sucking my cunt without further ado. This was an acid test. Would she be able to tell my twat from her real mother's.
"Mmmmmm," she passed judgment after some noisy slurping, "your cunt is still the sweetest I've ever tasted. None of my friends can come close to it."
So another hurdle was passed. Even though the raw act in which I was engaged was hopelessly degenerate I was uncontrollably elated.
So elated that I began wiggling my ass when Sandy started to penetrate my pussy with her stiff tongue. "Deeper ... deeper . ... " I moaned. "Your hard tongue feels soooo gooood inside me."
Sandy was happy to comply. Her oral prong thrust so completely up my fuck-hole that her teeth were gnashing against my labia and clit. Now I was getting stimulated on the outside as sensationally as within. She sure knew how to eat gash.
After a short while my hands automatically traveled to her body and began hurriedly removing her clothes. I was yearning for her naked, teenage form like I was drowning and desperately craving air.
Her Grateful Dead T-shirt came off easily, with the bra-less condition of her budding, young tits a succulent bonus. The jeans were more difficult, but I did a workmanlike job in getting them off. When I slid my hand along her slim hips I realized there were no panties either.
She was nude and on top of me. A beautiful, beautiful child. I wanted to experience every inch of her.
Apparently she felt the same way about me, for she quickly finished undressing me. Now we were both naked, and Sandy had crawled up my body. We were embracing and soul-kissing, as our hot pussies rubbed against one another.
When Sandy's tongue surged down my throat, it had a familiar flavor. Of course, it was still coated with my own pussy juice. It was an undeniable thrill to taste my own twat in a deep, lingering kiss.
Down below, our cunts were chafing fantastically. Our clits were perfectly centered, and gouged into each other like nails. Orgasm was flowing both ways.
Sandy's hand clasped my tits and mangled the stiff nipples. I naturally reciprocated, loving the budding firmness of her adolescent breasts.
She seemed to sense how intrigued I was by her boobs, and began to slide them down my body. Breaking our kiss, she repositioned herself 180 degrees and inserted a tit in my crotch and her cunt in my face. We were going to sixty-nine with a difference.
Expertly manipulating her tit, Sandy began tweaking my clitoris with the spike-like nipple. I could feel a climax all the way up in my gums.
"Ooooooh, Mom," Sandy squealed, "your pussy is drowning me. I should take a bath before Mickey gets here."
I couldn't answer because I had gotten busy eating her cunt. And, yes, it was as sweet-tasting as it looked. I remembered from my own adolescence that there is nothing so scrumptious as a teenage girl's beaver.
I sucked Sandy's cunt with all the vigor I used to apply to her mother's back when Lori and I were in our teens. The years rolled back and I was young and carefree again. Had I jumped up off the couch and dashed off to cheerleading practice when we were finished making love, it wouldn't have seemed the slightest bit unusual to me.
However, our lovemaking was far from finished. After we had each come several times from our modified sixty-nine, we switched positions again and started anew as though we were completely fresh.
This time Sandy knelt on the floor and turned me around in a sitting position so she could place her face in my lap. When she began eating me out I immediately knew how I was supposed to respond without being told. By now Sandy and I seemed to have a definite kind of ESP going between us-almost as accurate as a real mother and daughter.
Hunching over, I extended my arms down Sandy's back and grasped her ankles. Then slowly but surely, with strength I didn't know I had, I hoisted her legs from behind her.
Eventually I had her dangling upside down in a vertical position. Her face was still sucking my crotch, but now her sleek ass was wobbling in my face.
Bending her legs at the knees, I hooked her calves over my shoulders. When I let go with my hands, she stayed in place.
My fingers free for more intimate purposes, I used them to pry open Sandy's beautiful, young buns and peer in at her asshole.
She took after Lori to a tee. Sandy's anus was a perfect circle of blushing pinkness. It was impossible to believe that any crap had ever been squeezed through it.
My tongue darted out automatically and began licking for all it was worth. Totally living up to my expectation, Sandy's young butt was as sweet as candy.
I began to tongue-fuck her asshole, probing deeper and deeper. From the way she kept moaning downstairs in my cunt, she loved it. No matter how far I orally penetrated Sandy's girlish rectum, the flavor remained divine. This girl had a perfect body. And I couldn't stop making love to her, no matter how perverse it became.
While I continued to tongue her ass, I started poking in her gaping twat with my fingers. When all five on one hand were in, I balled them into a fist and began whamming away, feeling Sandy's face bounce against my crotch from the jarring impact.
Although we toppled to the floor from the accelerating action, I kept my knuckles buried and pumping within Sandy's tight, spasming cunt. Soon she had taken advantage of the accident to reciprocate and I was being gloriously fist-fucked, also.
We finally played ourselves out, but it was only after over two hours of constant sex. By the time we were so exhausted that neither of us could move. We just lay side by side in the middle of the floor, nakedly basking in the dozing afterglow of perfect lovemaking. Sandy's date that night had been temporarily forgotten along with everything else in the universe.
CHAPTER THREE
Mickey Rice not only showed as scheduled for his date with Sandy that night, but he brought his whole damn band. I don't know how he'd have handled it if Sandy had been waiting for him in a normal fashion, but I certainly can tell you what happened under the bizarre circumstances he and his friends actually encountered.
When they walked into the apartment without even knocking and found us slumbering in the nude on the floor, caked with pussy juice, one thing immediately occurred to all six of them. Orgy!
"Wow," Mickey said, "this is gonna be even better than that Sandy chick promised."
By now I was awake enough to be able to make out voices, but I assumed I was still asleep. I mistook the sound of zippers whirring downward for the beginning of a wet dream I expected to enjoy.
When I focused my eyes, a huge cock was staring me in the face. However, I didn't believe it was real until the head abruptly rammed itself against my teeth. The impact was too brutal for any flight of fancy.
"Suck my cock," the long-haired owner snapped. "You know you want it."
As though I had been hypnotized on the spot, I obeyed the command. All of a sudden inch after inch of thick hard-on was surging down my throat. The phallic descent didn't stop even after I started to gag.
"Do you think she can take it all the way, Mickey?" one of the other now-naked musicians asked the guy fucking my mouth, identifying him as Sandy's date.
"We'll soon find out," the drummer leered.
He began grinding away at my face. Glancing downward, I could see that even though I was choking, there was still plenty of his cock that hadn't penetrated. It was a foot long, all right. The information Sandy had given me was right on the button.
Realizing who Mickey was, I started to wonder if I was capable of deep-throating him to the hilt if I really wanted to. The only practice I'd had in years was on my husband's puny tool, but I recalled that I'd swallowed the meat whole of some pretty well-hung studs in high school.
Slowly I became more and more obsessed with the idea of finding out if I'd lost anything to the years just because I'd settled down and gotten married. At a point where the big-cocked drummer was about to admit defeat, I made up my mind to go all the way.
Somehow I pried my throat open from inside-out. Lunging into the sudden opening, the head of Mickey's prick cannon-balled all the way down to the entrance to my abdomen.
When I moved my lips I could feel a pulsing sensation and taste sweat. Ecstatically, I realized that I was kissing his balls. He was fucking my mouth to the hilt!
"Say," Mickey turned to the others, his voice etched by enlightenment, "this chick really likes it. What they say about Sandy's old lady is really true."
Now the others were starting to jockey for position. For the time being they were so intrigued by my sexual reputation that they completely ignored the beautiful teenage girl who was sleeping peacefully by my side. I'd never felt so desirable in all my life.
A bearded guy with a cock not quite as big as Mickey's, but huge enough in its own right, went for my spread-legged crotch. There, he used his beefy hands to pry my thighs even further apart and began raspily tonguing my cunt. When he got things worked up to a lather down there, he pronounced me ready, and got ready to fuck me.
Kneeling between my splayed limbs, he guided his hard-on like a missile to the hairy, dripping cunt. "Ooooommph," he grunted and his stiff prick was inside my pussy, beginning to screw me.
I was getting it at both ends now. The bearded guy plowing away between my legs, while Mickey Rice sat on my face and revolved his huge cock like a roto-rooter down my throat. In the position in which I lay, only my tits were easily accessible.
Noticing the availability of my jiggling breasts, one of the musicians came over and parked his buns on my chest. Then, deftly handling his long, slim cock, he inserted it between my tits.
"Press 'em together, mama, and make a pussy," he instructed. It was an idea I took to like a duck to water.
He began to move his dick back and forth in the pressing slot of my jugs. He was really fucking me there. The friction was unbelievable.
By now I was covered with horny musicians like a piece of decaying meat with flies. If the remaining three cockers were going to get their nuts off without a long wait they were going to have to turn their attentions toward little Sandy.
"Okay," one of them said, as though reading my mind, "let's hump the kid. These little teeny-boppers have real tight holes most of the time. I'll bet the ass on this one is like a vise."
He certainly intended to find out. While Sandy was still asleep on her stomach, he pried open the cheeks of her round behind and peered right in at her most intimate orifice.
"Mmmmm, will you look at this," he drooled. "Her mama was giving her a tongue job before we showed up. These two chicks just can't get enough, man, I swear it."
Showing off for the others, he made a big display of inserting two meaty fingers within Sandy's anus and spreading the edges so everyone could look inside her ass. Mouths watered all over the room, even on the guys socking it to me.
But I didn't mind in the slightest. Sandy was such a sweet, little piece, and I was glad to see her get the recognition she deserved.
Taking his cock with his free hand, the guy at Sandy's rear began zeroing in for some serious cornholing. He'd planned to take her flat on the ground, but she surprised him by suddenly jerking her hips upward. She came to rest kneeling and wriggling her ass, apparently in the throes of some delicious dream.
The prick went surging into Sandy's anus even before its eager owner anticipated it. It isn't often you see a guy gasping in alarm because a female got the drop on him sexually.
He recovered quickly, though. What man wouldn't feel like a king with several inches of his cock clutched by tight, teenage rectal muscles.
Fucking a teenage girl in the ass must be the nearest thing to heaven for a normal male.
"Oh, she's tight, man, this one's tight," the lucky ass-fucker informed his friends.
Now it was Sandy's turn to contribute to the interchange. "Fuck me harder ... harder," she moaned. It was impossible to tell whether she was asleep or awake.
Seeing how their partner had hit pay-dirt with Sandy, the remaining two members of the band began to circle her for position. Finally, in an unspoken agreement, one of them decided to take her mouth, and the other one her pussy.
I'd read that some of these rock 'n' roll musicians have pretty kinky sex lives, but I never anticipated I would be confronted by their expertise so directly. Sliding over under and around Sandy in perfect harmony with each other and the guy already fucking her ass, the last two members of the band got their cocks right where they wanted them.
One guy was lying underneath her now, pumping his straining prick straight up into her beautiful young pussy. His partner was sitting on the floor with his legs straddling Sandy's head, her face shoved into his crotch. I couldn't see anything of his hard-on because it was all in her mouth.
Sandy moved and groaned with building excitement. Still, for the life of me, I didn't know whether she was conscious. Oh well, I found myself thinking like Lori, if she's doing her thing, who cares?
Anyway, I was too busy with my own trio of hard-ons to worry about anybody else for very long. The three guys carving me up with their dicks had come for some heavy action with Sandy's mother, and I felt an obligation to live up to Lori's reputation as long as I was playing her role.
I may not have been fifteen anymore, but I was convinced I could fuck like a teenager. I was positive Sandy wasn't giving her trio of lovers any greater satisfaction than I was giving mine.
Even with the confinement from the bulk of three men on top of me, I began to move like a spastic. Shaking and jerking myself every which way and that, I set up a violent ripple effect that convulsed in powerful waves throughout my entire body. Those pricks fucking me must have suddenly felt like they'd been plugged in electric sockets.
"Come!" I begged them. "Squirt your hot juice all over me!"
Knowing exactly what I wanted, they immediately complied. Pulling their dicks from the crevices they had engorged, the three musicians finished the job by beating their meat over my writhing, naked, spread-eagled body.
They all erupted together. The jizz flowed from three directions at once. Within seconds my bare skin was saturated with its gooey liquid warmth. I felt like a cum-popsicle that was starting to melt.
While I writhed in the slime, the guys filling Sandy's holes were beginning to snort like bulls. Their blood was boiling and they were ready to come. I had a wonderful view of the action, so I just lay there and watched.
Enjoying the tightest amount of friction, the dude in Sandy's ass was the first to blow. The liquid charge from his prick was so powerful that the backlash caused several inches of meat to abruptly withdraw.
The excess came flowing out almost immediately. The normally tan backs of Sandy's thighs became snow-white as a flood of cum washed down her flanks.
Even before the ass-bound cock stopped spurting, the monster in Sandy's cunt exploded. Because she was sitting up on it, the jizz came gushing out almost as quickly as it went in. Quickly there was a widening puddle of it on the floor.
The mouth was last, and I could hear Sandy gagging as the liquid meteor tore down her throat. It must have felt like molten lead when it struck her stomach. I was convinced that if she wasn't awake by now, she must turn into a zombie at six o'clock.
"Oh, hi guys," she said nonchalantly when the hard-on was gone from her mouth. Jizz was clearly dripping from her teeth and lips, but it didn't seem to distract her in the slightest. "What took you so long?"
I don't remember how they answered. While they were all making small-talk I was busy confronting a revelation that had come to me. There was no escaping it the more I thought about it.
From the way she was behaving, it was clear that Sandy had expected the whole group of musicians all along. At fifteen, this girl who was supposed to be my daughter for a week, had cleverly planned and arranged an orgy for the benefit of the person she assumed was her mother.
It was mind-boggling that somebody so young could be so sexually advanced. What kind of life-style was my sister leading if her child thought it normal to behave in this fashion? What kind of environment was this in which to raise an impressionable youngster?
And then I couldn't help but wonder if such behavior were the only alternative to the respectable but boring middle-class existence I came from. Was out-and-out promiscuity, regardless of age, the only way out of the suburban trap?
I'll tell you, I was suddenly frightened. Frightened that I had gotten into water that was too deep. I cursed myself for giving in to my frustrations and impulsively agreeing to switch places with Lori.
Then, for the first time since we'd changed identities, I started to think about how my twin sister was faring in my home. Was Lori trying to adjust to the suburbs as I was to her way of life, or, more characteristically, trying to turn them upside down? I couldn't help wondering what kind of reputation I'd have when I returned home. .
I promised myself I'd call Lori the first thing tomorrow morning. However, in the meantime, I had to get myself back together. Sandy and her well-hung friends weren't paying any attention to me at the moment, but it wouldn't be long before they would expect me to join the sexual formation they were now creating.
Somebody had suggested a daisy chain. Sandy had agreed to it, but only if the first link consisted of her being fucked by the current man of her dreams, Mickey Rice.
Now the huge-cocked drummer was making his penetration between Sandy's widely-spread legs. His hard-on slipped inside her slit like a knife into a wound.
"Mmmmmmm," she moaned with appreciation, "your prick is soooo big."
He enjoyed the flattery, and accelerated his pumping action. Like a jackhammer, his cock battered away until it was jammed up Sandy's twat to the hilt. I could both hear and see his balls slapping against her pussy lips.
Once the main connection had been made, it was time for the remaining links of the chain to be formed. The guy with the beard volunteered to shove his prick inside Sandy's gaping mouth.
"We need another chick," one of the four remaining musicians noted.
All eyes looked at me. Just as I'd anticipated, I'd been rediscovered.
Feeling I had no choice, I dutifully went over to join the others. I'd made my commitment to behave like Lori for a week, and once I'd given my word I was the kind of person who liked to keep her promises.
"Get down there under Fuzzy's ass, mama, and stretch out on your back," somebody instructed me. "We'll work something out here."
Fuzzy, of course, was the guy with the beard who was fucking Sandy's mouth. When I slid my face beneath it, I noticed that his ass was almost as hairy as his face and steaming with sweat.
I didn't have to be told that I was supposed to tongue-fuck his asshole. All signs pointed to it being a funky task, but I guessed I was up to it.
The acrid taste of salt from his free-flowing perspiration made my nostrils pinch as I licked up the expanse of his crack. When I got to the big, greasy knot of its throbbing exterior, I stopped at his anus.
Flicking my tongue from between my teeth like a switchblade, I easily penetrated his shit-pit with my oral knife. Surging several inches up his tight canal, my tongue began wriggling in controllable celebration of deep, tight penetration. There was no doubt I was getting into the swing of things again.
With my mouth doing its best, it was time to turn my attention to the lower part of my naked body. Given the ratio of men to women, there'd have to be some doubling up down there.
Two guys stepped forward and began to smoothly position themselves for simultaneous assaults on my pussy and asshole. With one on top of me, and the other slipping between me and the floor, I quickly experienced twin cocks in my pair of adjacent fuck-holes.
Of course this development created a problem for the two remaining musicians. All the female flesh was apparently taken. They were like a duet with nowhere to perform.
Looking back, I can see how naive I was. Needless to say, the real Lori would have anticipated what happened next.
Suddenly Sandy had a guy sliding beneath her and a hard-on was jamming up her ass. Since this had already happened to me it wasn't too remarkable, but what was going on at my cunt was.
Another cock was joining the first in my gash. When it started I thought the attempt was impossible, but I was quickly proven wrong. It was amazing the way the walls of my pussy could expand to accommodate anything.
We were all connected now, an amazing human chain of electric sensuality. Sandy and I were already coming, so constant spasms of raw energy flowed through the eight of us. When the guys started to shoot their wads, the whiplash would be unbelievable.
Even though all six members of the band had recently ejaculated, their jizz came quickly the second time. Just as they apparently did with their musical instruments, they had cocks they could play all night.
All of a sudden Sandy and I were swamped in all six of our combined holes. Yes, even my mouth was washed by the overflow from my temporary daughter's cunt as Fuzzy's excess sperm gushed down his balls and into my throat.
By now the eight of us were jerking back and forth across the room with violent snaps.
Finally the fury of our mass fucking and sucking snapped the chain and deposited us in a heap. It took us a while to catch our collective breath, but when we did it was apparent that nothing had changed.
The cocks of the guys were still stiff and throbbing. Both Sandy and I practically had steam hissing from between our legs. It was clear that the evening had just begun, and that I wasn't going anyplace except to the orgy in my apartment.
CHAPTER FOUR
The next morning when I woke up I was all alone in the apartment. The rock musicians had long since gone, and Sandy was at school. It was hard to believe that such a far-out girl would indulge in something as mundane as high school, but Lori and Sandy had to go along with it to keep the authorities out of their hair.
Realizing that such privacy presented me with a perfect opportunity to check in with Lori, I went to the phone and called home.
"Hello, Crane residence," the voice at the other end of the line said. It was just like listening to a tape of myself answering the phone.
"Lori," I whispered, even though there was no one around to overhear me.
"Oh, hi, Ruth," she replied with no attempt to lower her voice. "What's happening?"
"Are ... are you by yourself?" I continued to play it safe.
"Sure," she said. "Rick's at work, and Nancy and Tommy are at school. What about Sandy?" "She's at school."
"Good ... good. You must be a good influence on her. She's been cutting a lot lately."
This small-talk was making me nervous. The only thing I wanted to know was what had gone on between Lori and my family last night.
"How ... how are you getting along?" I tried to short-circuit the chit-chat.
"Groovy!" she bubbled.
"Uh, really, what happened? Did you and Rick--" "Did we fuck?" she bluntly interrupted.
"Well, did you?" I forced myself to verbally confront the bottom line.
"What do you think, Sis?" she teased me.
What I thought stunned me into silence. I was no big fan of Rick's lovemaking, but the idea of his actually doing it with somebody else chilled me to the bone.
"Ah, ah," Lori taunted, "I can hear you panting over the phone. You'll get germs all over the receiver."
"Well, did you?" I suddenly blurted. "Did you fuck my husband?" "No," was the astonishing answer. Now my feelings abruptly swung the other way.
With her denial I immediately felt embarrassed that the man I had been screwing for sixteen years wasn't good enough for Lori.
"Why not?" I blurted again.
"He was tired after a hard day at the office," she sighed.
It was such a familiar line that I couldn't help believing her. Even with a laughable six-inch cock as his main weapon, Rick was as stingy with his sex as a woman going through menopause. He always had a headache or something.
"Then what'd you do?" I asked with cautious relief. "Watch television? Read a book?"
"Well, I tried reading one of your Harlequin Romances, as a matter of fact," Lori laughed. "But by the time I got to the thirtieth page and there was still nothing dirty, I put it down and went outside."
"Where'd you go?"
"Your next-door neighbor was having a barbecue. He saw me on the sidewalk and invited me up."
"Bob Thornton?"
"Yeah, that was his name. Bob Thornton." Lori let the name roll off her tongue like it was a fond memory. "He wasn't a bad dude for a square."
"Where was his wife?" I began blurting again.
"Drunk as a skunk."
That would figure. Eva Thornton had had a drinking problem for as long as I could remember.
Nobody talked about it in the polite suburbs, of course, but the fact was there as big as life. At a party any woman who wanted to could snatch Bob for the evening because it was a cinch his wife would be unconscious by ten.
Bob had come on strong to me several times, but I had always resisted. Despite the fact that he was a handsome hunk of man-and my husband increasingly seemed like a boring jerk to me-I just couldn't bring myself to have an affair with him nor anyone else. When I took my marriage vows I'd convinced myself that I'd sowed the last of my wild oats in high school.
Lori, of course, had no such compunctions. When she'd discovered Bob grilling two steaks for himself, she'd gotten herself invited to dinner just like that. There was a bulge in Bob's crotch even before he served the meat.
The steaks were half-eaten when Lori decided that it was too hot for the sweater she was wearing. "Do you mind if I take it off?" she asked Bob.
"Depends on what you've got on underneath it," he laughed.
"Nothing," she said with a straight face. "Absolutely nothing."
He dropped his fork.
Wasting no time, she slid the sweater over her head and threw it on the grass. Her bare tits were bobbing up and down like a pair of ripe melons.
"Still eating your steak, Bob," she cooed, "or are you interested in another course?"
"As long as it's meat," he leered.
"What are you waiting for, then?" She invited him to her naked chest by cupping her breasts in her hands and thrusting them toward his face.
He abruptly leaped onto the table. With his knee gouging into his forgotten steak, he began to suck Lori's ample tits.
Thinking they were mine.
"Ruth, why haven't we ever made it before?" Bob asked in the midst of his nipple chomping. "I've had my eye on you for years."
Lori didn't answer with words, thus avoiding a faux pas. Instead she. went right to where Bob lived by unzipping his pants. Once she started stroking his hard-on she didn't have to be accountable for the past in light of the present.
"Oh, baby," he moaned, "I want to fuck you right here on the patio table."
Their clothes were off within moments and Lori was spread-eagled across the slats. Her cunt was practically boiling with desire, as she curiously awaited her first suburban fuck in five years.
As long as Bob Thornton had lived next door I had secretly wondered how big his cock was. To tell the truth I wondered about virtually every man's considering the unsatisfactory length of my husband's.
Now, as Lori told her story, I learned that it was the monster about which I'd periodically fantasized.
"It was in so far it felt like the head was rubbing against my spine," was the way Lori put it.
Yes, he humped her to the hilt on the picnic table, thinking all the while that he was socking it to me. She couldn't stop praising him on the size of his tool, and begging him to fuck her harder and harder.
"Come, come!" she could no longer contain her lusty impatience. "Come, you bastard!"
The table was rocking on the grass. Bob's hard-on was blasting deeper and deeper. Both he and Lori were making sounds like nocturnal animals in mating season.
The cum suddenly exploded from his cock in a powerful jet. Lori could instantly feel her insides dripping with it. It only made her want more.
"How are you going to be fixed when this is over?" she asked Bob while he was still spurting in her twat.
"Hard as a rock!" he assured her.
"Then start thinking about jazzing me in the ass, big boy," she said as clear as a bell. "I want to feel that huge dick of yours where it's really tight."
They got off the table for this, Lori on all fours like a horny female dog. A bitch in heat.
"Use some of the cum to grease my butt," she instructed my excited next-door neighbor. "I want it in all the way on the first shove."
Taking a big glob of his own spunk on the tips of his fingers, Bob obediently smeared all over Lori's puckering anus. It was a hundred times better than any artificially manufactured lubricant.
"Inside," she ordered. "Make the inside of my ass greasy with your jizz."
He poked the two wettest fingers in at once. They slipped in on the first try to their third knuckles.
"Mmmmmm, just think what you can do with your cock," she abandoned her authoritarian facade and moaned.
He parted his fingers, spreading the muscles of Lori's asshole so she would be ready for his immense prick. Eventually he got the size of the anal opening to the diameter of a fifty-cent piece.
Showing astonishing reflexes for a middle-aged man, Bob quickly removed his fingers from Lori's crack and replaced it with his violently thrusting dick. The whole thing happened so fast, she was hardly aware of the transformation until she abruptly sensed she was being torn in two.
"How do you like my cock in your ass, baby?" Bob triumphantly asked. "Ever had one better?"
"A horse once," my sister dead-panned.
"You fucked a horse? My next-door neighbor fucks horses?"
"Only while I was waiting for you to get into my pants, tiger," Lori impersonated me. "Yes, now that I've finally got you, I'm switching from ponies to tigers."
"Oh, Jesus, God," Bob Thornton babbled like a religious fanatic. I feel born again. Where have you been all my life, Ruth?"
"Waiting for you to make the right move, stud," Lori answered.
"How about this one?" he grinned lasciviously, and began twisting his cock like a high-speed drill in my sister's ass. His balls were rolling against the cheeks of her butt like sandbags giving way to a flood.
"I can feel the head of your cock in my shit," she excitedly told him. "Wipe it out! Shoot all the crap out of there with your own cum!"
Bob Thornton was the kind of guy who loved such challenges. Meeting them made him feel like more of a stud, and helped him forget about his uneventful life in the suburbs. The major crop of the middle class was fantasies.
"I'm building it up," he informed Lori of his progress. "My balls are tightening into a knot ... they're ready to burst ... I'm ... I'm . ... " "Yes? Yes?" Lori gasped.
"I'm coming!" he shrieked. "Oh God, Ruth, can't you feel it?"
Lori could. The jizz flooded her bowels, blasting the shit from its moorings. It just wouldn't seem to stop spurting.
Lori would be passing Bob's spunk in her stool for days, but the horny little bitch still wasn't satisfied. When the last of the cum had drenched her ass she started to talk about a blow-job.
"I love the taste of my own shit on my lover's hard-on," she informed the wide-eyed Bob with impossible sexiness. "Won't you give it to me like a good boy?"
Bob's prick had temporarily wilted after it pulled out of Lori's butt. Now, just moments later, it snapped anew to rigid attention. She could play a man's cock as well as anybody.
Even stretched to full erection, Bob's cock was brown with the slippery remnants of my sister's crap. She, of course, regarded his shit-encrusted tool as the same kind of tasty treat a kid would find an ice cream bar.
Her lips passed over the gooey head. Her slurping was louder than the usual din of the crickets.
Lori had taken Bob quickly in the pussy and ass, but now, on the third time around, she was doing things slowly and tantalizingly. This time she wanted him to suffer before he came.
Although it's not her tightest hole, a woman has more control over her mouth than she does any other orifice. She can eagerly gobble a man's hard-on, or suck down at her leisure.
Lori was doing the latter, driving Bob nuts every agonizing inch of the way. She was eating his cock the way you would eat an artichoke, breaking it down little by little.
"Oh, baby," he moaned, "your mouth is even better than your ass or pussy. You really know how to do it, Ruth."
Ruth. Ruth. Yes, me, Ruth. It was Lori sucking the next-door neighbor's cock after a pair of fucks in her lower holes, but it was me Bob Thornton thought he was getting it from. How would I ever handle him when I went home?
"Hey, Sis, is there anything wrong?" Lori interrupted her story. "I can't even hear you breathing on the other end of the line."
"No, no, I'm all right," I lied. "What happened next?"
"I took his prick as gradually as I could-teasing him the whole way," she continued. "It took almost ten minutes before I deep-throated the bastard."
"Did he come again?"
"Wow, did he! More than the other two times. That guy's a geyser."
He'd penetrated the end of his cock all the way down to Lori's abdominal entrance by the time he came. His balls weren't nuzzling her lips but inside them.
Lori stuck her finger in his ass and plunged in at a downward angle.
"Yeeeeooooowwww!" he screamed as the spunk tore loose from his nuts. It was as though his wisdom teeth were being pulled without an anesthetic.
The cum poured into Lori's belly past the point of containment. As much as she wanted to retain every precious drop of jism, she couldn't help herself from regurgitating the excess. It bolted back up her throat, saturating her breathing passages and gushing from the sides of her cock-engorged mouth.
"You know how when we were kids and we used to play around with the oatmeal Mom made us for breakfast?" Lori asked by way of illustrating her condition.
"You mean like when one of us held a mouthful of it and the other one tried to make her laugh?" I recalled a long-forgotten piece of my child.
"Right!" Lori answered. "Well, with all that cum dripping out of my face last night, I looked just like the loser in an oatmeal freeze-out when the winner has just told the world's funniest joke. I thought about you when it was happening, Ruth."
How could she help it, I thought sardonically. After all, she was supposed to be me.
I felt a pressure to blurt something out, but I held my tongue and said something civil. "Are you and Bob Thornton going to be seeing each other again?" I tried to sound as calm as was possible with my heart throbbing in my throat.
"Maybe later in the week," Lori casually said. "That is, if my plans work out all right."
I indicated that I didn't understand.
"Simple, Sis," Lori laid it on me. "I'm devoting every night it takes until I make that husband of yours. Bob Thornton will just have to wait next door until I'm through doing what I was sent out here in the sticks to do."
I tried to think of something to say, but it wouldn't come. My mouth would deliver nothing but a small but distinct whimper of anguish.
Lori couldn't have helped but to pick up my strangled cry of mental pain, however she ignored it. Apparently she was having a lot better time than she'd expected, and didn't care to have her neurotic twin interrupt her vacation.
"Excuse me, Ruthie, but I've got to go now," was how she cut me off. "Got to wax the kitchen floor. It's Tuesday, you know. Goodbye."
There was a harsh click and she was gone.
CHAPTER FIVE
I found the note from Sandy taped to the refrigerator after I finished talking to Lori. Apparently this was the forum on which my sister and her daughter communicated when they were going their separate ways. It was a good thing I'd spotted it, or I might have had some explaining to do.
The note was about someone named Franco. I was supposed to pick him up this afternoon at a Dr. Forest's on Central Avenue.
Needless to say, I anticipated one of Sandy's and Lori's far-out friends. However, I decided to go through with it because I couldn't afford to leave anything to chance if I was going to keep the impersonation going.
Lori's Vespa had a seat on the back of it, so I guessed I could take Franco wherever he was going if I drove slow enough. I hoped he wasn't too big a guy. Naturally I anticipated the address was a free clinic or something. I halfway expected that this Franco was being treated for VD considering the kind of wild life my sister and my niece led.
All of which left me, it goes without saying, totally unprepared for a veterinarian's office. When I mumbled self-consciously that I was here to pick up, uh, a Franco, the receptionist replied, "Your Doberman is very anxious to see you."
I almost fainted. What if this dog didn't buy the fiction that I was Lori? With dogs it's the smell, not the visual recognition that counts. How would I explain it if he chewed me up while I was trying to get him home?
"Are you all right, ma'am?" the receptionist asked as I teetered under the weight of my anxiety.
I lied that nothing was wrong.
"Okay, then," she said, "I'll go get your animal. He's been raring to go all day."
I heard barking in the background. The scuffling of claws against linoleum.
Then a door to the waiting room opened and a snarling, black beast came surging out on a chain. He was so fierce he looked like he could snap the link to the receptionist's arm-even the arm itself-if he really wanted to.
"Is he named after the football player?" the receptionist asked, gamely trying to restrain the straining dog.
"I beg your pardon."
"Franco. Franco Harris. Is your dog named after the player for the Steelers?"
I wasn't a football fan, but I immediately knew who she was talking about. I remembered Franco Harris the vicious Pittsburgh running back from the Super Bowl, and he was big and black and tough.
"Yes, he is," I said.
"Well, here he is," she smiled, and startled me by handing me the leash.
Suddenly the fearsome dog was in my possession and I didn't know what to do about it. If he didn't want me to, there was no way I could control him.
Franco and I stared at each other for a moment. His eyes seemed to be almost human. Was he sizing me up?
When he jumped up on me I tried to conceal my alarm, but it was no use. I was paralyzed with fear, a sitting duck for Franco's gleaming teeth should he decide to sink them into me.
God, you can imagine the relief when he licked instead of bit me.
"Looks like he's glad to see you," the receptionist cheerfully noted.
I'd passed the test. Inside I felt like I'd just escaped with my life. On the outside I forced a wan smile, belying my churning guts.
When we got outside to the Vespa, Franco pulled the leash out of my hand with ridiculous ease and hopped onto the backseat. Apparently he rode there all the time.
On our ride back to the apartment I could feel Franco's hot breath down my neck the whole way. During the trip, we attracted more than our share of attention, but I endured it knowing that a woman and a Doberman sharing a motor scooter was a legitimately unusual sight. I'd have gawked, too, if I'd seen it.
However, when we got home and I got off the Vespa, I discovered that there was an even more compelling reason than I'd imagined for people to stare at us. Sitting on his haunches on the back of the scooter, Franco had developed a massive erection.
Not only had passersby been gaping at the dog and I, they'd been gaping at the animal's massive hard-on. No wonder I'd developed a crick in my back.
"Come on, let's get you in the building," I urged Franco off the bike by rattling his chain.
He followed me obediently. However, on our way up the stairs he began sniffing my ass. Was he double-checking with the most powerful of his senses to make sure I was Lori and not some imposter?
Knowing next to nothing about handling dogs, especially big ones, I let Franco keep sniffing my can all the way up to the apartment. Regardless of whether he had decided on my identity, he was obviously fascinated by my scent down there.
When we got inside and I got the courage to turn around and confront him, I saw that Franco was slobbering. The stub of his tail was wagging like an abbreviated pendulum. And his hard-on was still in evidence, bigger than ever.
I was starting to get the picture. The dog's actions weren't attributable at all to his suspicions about who I was. The fact of the matter was that I made him horny.
Quickly it all became clear to me. Even bestiality was not out of the realm of my sister's far-out lifestyle. From the way Franco was carrying on there was no doubt Lori regularly had sex with him.
Needless to say, at the moment his desire was particularly rampant. Locked up at the vet's for several days, Franco was raring to go. He couldn't wait to get it on with his mistress.
And till the end of the week, that was nobody else but yours truly. If I was going to successfully impersonate my twin I had no choice but to give in to the turned-on beast panting randily before me. I had to fuck the dog.
"How do you want it?" I sighed as I began to strip. Franco was prowling like a wolf around the room by the time I was naked. The sight of a woman's tits, ass and pussy to him was like a pile of fresh bones to any other dog.
Sensing that he wanted me to behave like a bitch in heat, I dropped to all fours and spread my loins from the rear. I could feel my pussy flexing at the center of the parted cheeks of my ass, a delectable sight for man or beast.
Franco bounded over and began licking. His tongue was rough against the tender petals of my snatch and established an instant buzz of friction. When my clit was raspily lapped I couldn't stop the miniature orgasm that developed.
After he was through lubricating my cunt, I expected Franco to get down to business and fuck me. However, to my surprise, he trotted around to my face.
"What is it, boy?" I asked. But I immediately knew what he wanted-he wanted his cock sucked.
Franco's cock was big and black just like the rest of him. The shaft resembled a forearm, and the knotty head was like a fist. Most people choose Dobermans as pets because of their qualities as guard dogs; Lori had obviously selected hers by the size of his prick.
Okay, okay, I mentally calmed myself down. If you have to do it, you have to do it. Go ahead and suck his cock. Close your eyes if you have to.
In self-enforced darkness I reached out and grasped the hard-on which was causing me so much anxiety. It was like gripping a baseball bat.
Slowly I guided the dog's cock toward my mouth. When I could feel the head throbbing against my mouth, I slipped my lips over the brutal knob.
The phallic flavor was a revelation. I don't know what I expected, but certainly not such pleasure. With my eyes closed, sucking the dog's prick was just like sucking an extraordinarily well-hung man's. I was beginning to understand my sister's motives.
With Franco whimpering, I swallowed his tool all the way down to his fuzzy balls. If somebody had told me a few days ago that I would wind up deep-throating a Doberman just because I traded places with my twin sister, I'd have thought them hopelessly demented.
My eyes were open now because there was no longer anything to be afraid of nor repelled by. With a cock as sweet-tasting as Franco had, it was only natural for a woman to want to suck it to the hilt.
I was so excited that I had to be careful I didn't provide too much suction and make him come in mouth before I got that monster prick where I really craved it-in my cunt. I didn't have enough experience with the canine world of sex to know about a dog's orgasmic capacity was, and I didn't want to risk losing his wad on a misfire.
Okay, now we were ready. Ready to fuck. The necessary components were in perfect working order. My cunt bubbling with liquid desire? Franco's spit-soaked hard-on twitching and throbbing.
Returning to my rear, Franco hopped up on my back, digging his claws into my bare flesh like razors. Knowing what was going to happen next, I reveled in the bloody pain.
He began barking as he worked his dick into my cunt. He couldn't wait to prong me to the hilt, and when he'd accomplished that, to begin fucking in earnest. A dog's action seemed to employ twice as much energy as a man's. Never had I felt so dominated.
"Oh, fuck me ... fuck me!" I gasped excitedly. "Keep fucking me harder and harder, Franco!"
He responded with a machine-gunning series of brutal thrusts. Apparently he'd heard this command many times before from Lori.
"Your cock feels so good," I moaned, entranced by the vileness of my own filthy tongue. "Soooo gooood in my tight cunt."
Franco barked with excitement, digging his claws a little deeper into my back. His prick seemed to grow an extra inch, apparently expanding the dirtier I talked.
"Your prick is splitting me in two," I babbled. "It hurts so good."
His tool swelled anew in my tight fuck-pit.
"I'll bet your balls are in an uproar, huh, Franco? Just boiling with hot cum. Getting ready to shoot down your cock and fill my pussy."
He whimpered rather than getting loose with his customary bark. I knew the reason for that. Even though I couldn't see them, I knew his nuts had to be turning blue. If he didn't come quickly the poor animal might explode.
Clamping down to the nth degree on my pussy muscles, I closed my snatch around the full extent of Franco's prick like a hangman's noose.
"I want it! I want it!" I screamed hysterically. "Fill my cunt with your cum."
My vaginal contortions did the trick. The dog's cock bucked like a .44 Magnum in my fuck-hole and fired its bullet.
The ammunition was liquid not lead. And not lethal, but lovely. Bull's-eye!
"Oh, Jesus," I groaned appreciatively, "aren't you ever going to stop coming?"
Franco barked excitedly, obviously proud of his performance. He was certainly entitled. Cum was running in rivers down my legs.
But, despite his triumph, I wasn't going to let him rest on his laurels. Now that I had achieved my primary objective of making his prick explode in my cunt, I was free to do a little experimenting. Why not find out if a horny woman can make a dog come twice within minutes?
On the first go-round I'd passed up a mouthful of jizz in order to insure that orthodox fucking took place. This time I wasn't going to be so stingy with myself.
Pulling my snatch away from Franco's cock, I swiveled all the way around so I could face him. In the process, his twisting claws removed the skin from my back in bloody strips. It felt good-I was so turned on, anything felt good. Except stopping.
"Nice doggie," I cooed in a soothing voice. "Lori's going to suck that great, big cock of yours and make you come all over again. Right in her mouth."
I went for his dick, which was now half-wilted, looking soggy as it flopped between his haunches. Bringing the lax meat to my lips, I prepared to stuff it into my mouth.
However, before I made the insertion, something stopped me. A sudden insight.
A moment ago, when I had been talking to Franco, I'd voluntarily referred to myself as Lori. There'd been no pressure on me-I'd just gone ahead and done it.
This was significant because it meant a real transformation was taking place. After only twenty-four hours out of the suburbs, I'd automatically come to think of myself as the hedonistic nonconformist that was my twin sister. I was Lori.
Lori fondling her dog's sloppy-looking prick. Getting ready to stick it in her mouth. Suck it. Make it hard again. Make it come again so she could swallow every precious drop.
With an eagerness totally unknown to me in my normal sex-life in the suburbs, I threw my lips over Franco's cock and suctioned its pliant mass all the way down my throat. I'd have him hard again within seconds or I wasn't a woman.
This was the perfect position in which to play with Franco's balls. Before I'd imagined them turning blue from the pressure within; now I'd see it happen as I fucked him with my mouth harder and harder.
His dick was definitely stirring in my oral cavity even before I began to fiddle with his nuts. However, after I gave his scrotum a few pumps, it began to grow by leaps and bounds. Soon I achieved my goal: a mouthful of the hardest cock imaginable on man or beast.
Now I began jerking my tightly clenched lips back and forth along the shaft. Sometimes I used my teeth, also. The friction I was creating practically shot off sparks.
Franco seemed to enjoy it the second time around more than he had the first. It was clear that Lori made a common practice of servicing him orally right after he'd fucked her pussy. Once again there was no difference between her and me.
Faster and faster I rubbed my lips and teeth over Franco's cock, the way Lori would do it. I just couldn't get enough of that sweet animal prick.
Checking the most reliable index of Franco's orgasmic flash-point, I glanced down at his balls, Mmmmmm, they were tight lumps, clinging as though magnetized to his phallic root. And I swear they were blue.
Franco let out a howl that made him sound more like a hound-dog baying at the moon than a Doberman fucking his mistress in the mouth. His cock jumped like a rocket leaving the launching pad and then self-destructed.
What an outpouring! It was like sucking the crater of a miniature volcano. Franco's cum was like molten lava as it flowed down my throat and filled my stomach.
I greedily tried to retain every drop, but with so much it was impossible. Dog-jism began to back up in my mouth and breathing passages. When it started to drip out in gooey clots, I thought again of that childhood routine Lori and I used to have with the oatmeal.
When Sandy got home from school that afternoon, I was languidly soaking in the tub. I could hear Franco bark when she came in.
"Mom, Mom, where are you?" she called.
"Taking a bath," I called.
"I see you picked up Franco from the vet's," she said. "Is he all right?"
"Can't you tell?" I grinned and gestured at the water in which I was immersed. It was cloudy with the dog-cum which had washed from my body. It looked like I was bathing in a tubful of skim-milk.
"I hope you didn't do it in the tub, Mother. The poor animal might slip and break a leg."
CHAPTER SIX
Wednesday. Lori called to remind me that I was supposed to be at the Sunshine Gallery at noon for an exhibit of her erotic paintings. She made her living as an artist so it was important that I be there and not blow this opportunity for her.
"Perry Lash is going to be there," she excitedly informed me. "He's the art critic for the paper. If he likes my work, I've got it made."
I promised not to let her down, and told her I'd better say goodbye if I was going to get ready for the exhibit on time.
"Okay, Sis," she said, "just one more thing before I let you go."
"Yes?"
"Perry Lash is a raging queen."
"A homosexual?"
"One hundred percent fag."
"What's that have to do with your paintings?"
"He hates women unless they're dykes. The only artists he gives good reviews of are all as fruity as he is. I'm telling you, this gay liberation thing is a goddamn conspiracy."
"So ... so what do you want me to do?" I hesitantly asked.
"Come on as butch as you can to him," she instructed. "It's the only way. Show up in jeans and a leather jacket or something with your hair greased back like a punk."
It was several minutes after we hung up and I was halfway into creating my macho costume that I realized Lori and I had never spoken of my family once. I hadn't even asked how Rick and the kids were, let alone find out if my sister had succeeded in bedding my husband.
I tried to feel guilty over my lack of interest in home, but I couldn't bring it off. The longer I was, Lori the more difficulty I had in activating my neurosis. My conscience seemed increasingly inoperative.
Instead of being ashamed of myself over being so callous toward my family, I was elated at the sense of freedom I was experiencing. No guilt meant no inhibitions and no regrets. What they called in Lori's circles, a natural high.
Forgetting that I was anybody but Lori, I gleefully threw all my attention into Fixing myself up like the toughest dyke in seven states. I'd have Perry Lash wishing I was a man so he could suck my cock.
In fact, in a moment of wild inspiration, I took measures so he'd never know for sure whether he really could have. Instead of wearing a pair of panties under my jeans, I balled them up and stuffed them just inside my fly. After I was zippered it was impossible to tell whether or not I had a pulsing hard-on in there.
Lash would know from my name that I was supposed to be a woman ... but would he really know?
Needless to say, I was immensely pleased with myself by the time I strode into the Sunshine Gallery like Clint Eastwood crashing a tea party. From the way the eyes of both sexes dwelled on my entrance, it was obvious that I'd succeeded in making myself irresistible to inverts of each gender. Even though I was dressed like a car mechanic, I felt more desirable than I ever had on my home ground in my most feminine Parisian copies.
The paintings of which I was supposed to be the artist were incredible. I'd never known Lori was so talented.
When it came to depicting eroticism my sister was practically a genius. With paints and brushes she had succeeded in turning the most intimate sex act into art. No blue-nose prosecutor could ever convince a jury my sister's work was pornographic.
It was pure art.
I was standing in front of the biggest painting, admiring Lori's bigger-than-life version of a cock going into a cunt, when my thoughts were interrupted by a reedy, whining voice. "Don't you think what you've done here, Ms. Morgan, is a bit crass?"
It took me longer than it should have to respond. Morgan was Lori's and mine maiden name. After her divorce she'd started using it again, but I hadn't been anything other than Mrs. Crane for sixteen years.
"Ms. Morgan," the voice twanged impatiently, "I believe I was talking to you."
Concealing my embarrassment behind my facade of toughness, I turned around to face him. From the voice, I expected him to be a wimp. I was wrong.
He was big enough to be a pro football player, and ruggedly handsome enough to be a movie star. I was so astonished I was rendered speechless and just gaped at him like a fool.
He wasn't in the least surprised by my reaction to him. In fact, it definitely seemed to amuse him. And, God, he was even better looking when he smiled.
"About this painting of yours, Ms. Morgan," he gestured contemptuously toward the canvas that had precipitated our conversation. "You seem to actually be saying in this work that the only eroticism worthy of artistic interpretation is heterosexual. I needn't remind you what a discredited concept that is in this day and age. You're either a sexist or a reactionary, and frankly both alternatives disturb me immensely."
"You're Perry Lash, aren't you?" I muttered the obvious. "The art critic for the paper."
"The one and only," he preened like a muscular peacock. "Why else do you imagine I would be here?"
"Then you don't like my work," I accepted responsibility for my sister's paintings. "Loathe it," he grinned.
"What do you dislike about it most, as if I didn't know?"
"It's obvious, isn't it?" he snapped as he began to make a walking tour of the rest of the canvases. "Look, in every one of them-sexual organs of both genders. The approach is so narrow-minded. So provincial that, frankly Ms. Morgan, it makes me want to throw up my hands in anguish and go on unemployment. No, disability. If art criticism is going to cause me such pain, I should be amply compensated for my ordeal."
The real me would have been devastated by such withering sarcasm. Lori, I suspected, would accept Lash's attitude as a challenge. Since for this week I was in truth my gutsy twin sister and not faint-hearted Ruth Crane, I eagerly accepted his implicit dare.
Catching up with his long strides, I drew even with him and took my gamble. "Okay, Lash, I know now you hate my paintings," I laid it on the line, "but what about the painter?"
"I beg your pardon, young woman," he sneered like I smelled of dead fish.
I was unfazed. My sudden strength intoxicated me with boldness. As Lori instead of Ruth, I was capable of anything. Even I didn't know what I would say or do next.
"Do you want to fuck me, Lash?" I surprised both of us.
That wiped the smile off his face. Lash was such a notorious and militant fag that no woman had probably had the guts to proposition him in years. The effect was somewhat akin to what happened to the Wicked Witch of the East when Dorothy spilled water all over her near the end of The Wizard of Oz. Lash practically melted.
"I ... I'm not of that p ... persuasion," he finally stammered. "I ... I assumed that was well-known."
"How do you know I can't give you what you want?" I leered, blatantly patting the lump in my crotch. "As a connoisseur of art, certainly you're aware that everything is not always what it seems."
I really had him going now. Since this was our first meeting all he'd known about me in advance was that I was known as Lori Morgan. Somebody had pointed me out to him, and he'd come over to nastily introduce himself just assuming I was a woman. He might have noticed the lump in my crotch if he'd bothered to look, but of course he was sure there was nothing but a pussy between my legs. And he hated pussies.
Lash was the kind of person who likes everything to be perfectly under control. His control. I'd just struck him the most severe wound possible by turning things upside down.
"Take me to your place and I'll give you a night you'll never forget," I promised him, lowering my voice to sound more masculine.
Suddenly he recovered his wits enough to look skeptical. "How do I know you don't have a pair of rolled-up panties or something stuffed in there to attract my attention?" he warily asked. "After all, some artists would go to any length to get a favorable notice from me."
I should have been thunderstruck. The bastard had just stumbled onto my game. Ruth probably would have fainted under comparable stress and blown everything.
Lori was cool as a cucumber. Already she was plotting through my brain to work things to her advantage.
"There's only one way you're going to find out what's in these pants, slugger," I brazenly taunted Lash, "and I don't have to tell you what that is. Either this conversation is over and you go home alone and write your lousy review, or you take me along and we get it on. Which will it be, turkey?"
As if I had any intention of waiting for his answer. The poor sucker was so confused it might have taken him all night to make up his mind.
Brushing up against him, I abruptly stuffed my hand into his right-hand pocket on the hunch his car keys might be there. Eureka, they were.
Before I snatched the keys out, however, I made sure I made an exploratory feel through the fabric of the pocket for Lash's cock and balls. There was plenty there, all right, and it was growing.
"Hey, what are you doing?" Lash yelped with alarm.
"I supplement my meager earnings from my reactionary paintings by picking pockets," I cracked, dangling the jingling tabs of metal in front of their owner. "Why don't you try and make a citizen's arrest, tiger?"
He tried to grab me but I danced away. A chase through the Sunshine Gallery ensued, the art critic hot on my heels.
Outside I hid in the shrubbery, jumping out and surprising Lash from the rear. "Okay, mother fucker," I put on a mock snarl, shoving my index finger into his ribs like the barrel of a gun, "this is a stick-up. Lead me to your car, I'm taking your wheels."
He knew it was me, of course, so he wasn't scared. But he sure was mixed-up. Obviously I was more woman than he'd ever seen.
"Okay, okay," I prodded him, sounding more like Jimmy Cagney every second, "I'm tired of waiting. Let's get moving or you'll be picking hot lead out of your liver."
God, this was fun! I couldn't help but wonder if Lori often found herself in stimulating situations such as this. Let's face it, I like being free.
Getting back to the action, when Lash continued to hesitate, I reached around his waist with my free hand and unzipped his pants. Suddenly his cock was engorging my fingers and it was a big, hard one.
"I'm holding this for ransom," I hissed. "Let's get going and see if it's worth anything."
He gave up and led me to his car. It was a sleek, black Lincoln about a block long, and I had a great time gunning it through mid-town traffic. These lush wheels put a lot of the pimp-mobiles I saw cruising the inner-city streets to shame.
Lash directed me to his townhouse. Whenever he got his tongue tangled up, I milked the words out of him by taking my right hand off the wheel and squeezing his cock and balls. When I did that he was my slave.
He lived in baronial splendor. It was obscene that while talented artists were living in squalor, their harshest critic was living like a king.
I maneuvered him straight into the bedroom right away. Shoving him down on the bed, I stripped away his pants and immediately began sucking his huge hard-on. Even a dumb housewife from the suburbs knows that male fags live and die by blow-jobs.
When Lash moaned with shuddering pleasure, I knew I-that is, Lori-was home free. After the art critic came in my mouth, he'd have to praise Lori in his column.
Obsessed by purpose, I sucked his cock better than I'd ever sucked any cock in my life. My mouth became an oral cunt, stroking and chafing, suctioning and spasming.
"Oooooh, Jesus, you're killing me!" Lash gave in to his impulses. "Keep doing it harder ... harder. It hurts sooo gooood."
Drawing him deeper and deeper down my throat, I finally took him to the hilt. His balls were churning against my lips. It was the first fag's prick I'd ever swallowed, and it was a beauty. I was beginning to understand all this shouting about gay Naturally I began to wonder what gay cum must taste like. Was it the same? Thicker? Runnier? Whiter? Yellowish or grayish?
Sweet or sour?
To find out, I really poured on the friction. My compressed lips started making numerous trips along the expanse of Lash's stiff dick. From the balls to the head and back again-over and over and over.
"Nnnnyyyaaaaahhhh!" he screamed at the height of male passion. His dick jerked in my mouth and came all over the place.
Oh, God, that cum was sweet. It tasted like he had sugar in his balls. I could have drunk it all night.
Fortunately for my thirst, Lash's ejaculation was prolonged. For awhile his squirting prick was more like a full-blast fire-hose than a human organ.
When his wad was finally spent my stomach was bloated with bubbling jizz. I must have swallowed a thousand calories.
The excess jism, of course, was dripping as usual out of my nose and mouth. My face looked like I'd been hit with a pie.
I was in ecstasy, but I forced myself to get a grip on myself. After all, I couldn't go much further with this guy or he'd find out I was nothing but a woman. I had to get out of here while he was still moaning from the head I'd given him and wanting more.
Lash was still thrashing on the bed when I made my move to split. However, to my astonishment, I didn't make it to the door before he sprang into action, caught up with me, and blocked my departure.
"Oh, no," he smiled like a shark, "you're not going any place until I find out what the bulge is in your crotch. Nobody drinks my cum and runs."
My euphoria suddenly drooped. Could it be that I was outmatched? After all, Perry Lash was a veteran of countless perverse encounters. How could I have been so naive to expect to so easily get the drop on him?
"What do you want me to do?" I suppressed an instinctive stammer and continued to hold my crumbling facade together.
"Fuck my mouth!" he snapped.
Oh, Jesus, with what, I thought with alarm. What was the good in keeping up my tough front if my advertising was backed up with nothing to sell?
Or was it?
A blow-job would be a farce, of course, because he could visually see that I didn't have what he craved between my legs. But what if he couldn't see? My confidence resurged.
"I'll fuck you in the ass, or nothing," I snapped. "I want to find out just what an art critic's shit-hole feels like. Everybody says you're tight-ass bastards."
He wavered. I was winning.
"Come on," I pushed it, "get back on the bed and spread your cheeks. Or are you afraid I'll laugh at your hemorrhoids?"
When I pushed him Lash let up on the last of his resistance and stumbled toward the bed. Falling on his face, he obediently raised his butt and pried open his meaty buns.
As I closed the distance between us, I ritualistically stripped, instinctively craving nudity during sex. While my jacket and jeans and T-shirt were flying off, I simultaneously surveyed the room for some phallic-like instrument with which to do my deed.
Mmmmmm, the long-handled brush on the bureau would do just fine.
I greased up the brush handle with spit and brought it to Lash's upturned ass. There was a nice, big, brown hole-a perfect target.
Oooooommmppph, I slugged my dildo home. A delighted "Yaaaaggggghhh!" was his response.
I pumped it in further and further. Lash could probably feel the blunt end of the brush handle gouging the shot from his bowels. If he was as constipated as I assumed, the pressure was undoubtedly enormous.
Lash loved my hilted penetration. His ass wiggled like it would never stop. In fact, I was too successful for my own good.
Lash was so horny that he couldn't help himself from reaching around to squeeze my nonexistant balls. Before I could stop him from exploring my nudity his fingers were in my crotch.
Well, you know what was there by a fruit's standards. Nothing. A slit where hot gristle was supposed to be filling the void.
Lash had screamed when I'd pronged his ass, but not as loudly as when his fingers abruptly slipped inside a wet pussy. As for myself, I was terrified, but still struggling. The way I desperately figured it, now that Lash knew I had a cunt I had to show him a cunt was worth having.
My pussy muscles constricted tighter than they ever had before. Lash's hand seemed to be sucked up in my fuck-hole like I had a vacuum between my legs.
"Wiggle your fingers," I commanded.
His impulses took over and he did. Down deep, beneath his faggy exterior, Lash was as apparently susceptible to a woman's cunt as any Thursday night bowler.
"Oooooh, that's it," I encouraged him. "Now move your fingers back and forth. Fuck me with them" Lash was hooked now and performed perfectly. Already I was starting to feel an orgasmic surge.
Aroused as hell, I slid my hand between his thighs and grasped his balls. Then, after giving them a hefty squeeze, I moved forward to his cock. It was throbbing like it was ready to explode.
Too bad if it had to happen in mid-air. I wanted his cum dripping within me.
Pulling the brush-handle out of Lash's asshole with a loud pop, I completely abandoned the homosexual pose. It was time for real sex, now. Man inside of woman!
I'd make Perry Lash love fucking a cunt!
I jumped onto the bed, whipped my nude body around, and presented him with the hairy, dripping spread between my legs. "Fuck me!" I commanded. "Stick your cock in my pussy and fuck me!"
When he hesitated, I threw my legs in a scissor around Lash's waist and pulled him toward me. Since he'd been in a kneeling position to begin with, he fell right on top of me.
"Ooooooohhh," I moaned as Lash's prick slashed into my cunt. "Start moving. . .fuck me ... fuck me ... "
Right on schedule his hips began rolling. It was a perfect fucking motion, gay or straight.
"Deeper ... deeper!" I implored him. "Let me feel your cock in my cunt to your balls!"
Lash sounded more like a crazed beast now than a prissy art critic. He was snorting and grunting like an enraged bull.
Now his nuts were roiling against my pussy lips. He was in me all the way. He'd have to come before long.
The bed springs squealed from our violent fucking. Lash could jam his cock down a woman's cunt as well as any man. I felt proud to have opened up this new door to him.
"Okay, now," I rasped, "time to come. Time to soak my hot pussy."
"Unnnhhh ... uuuunnnhhh ... unnnnnhhhh," Lash gasped in triplicate the way even the most heterosexual of us does at the moment of climax. Whoosh, the jizz came flooding from his dick.
"Ooooh, you're coming so fast," I congratulated him. "My cunt is already full and you haven't even stopped."
Yes, it was true. His wad was so copious that excess jizz was rushing into the open from between my legs. Soon my thighs felt like they were coated with hot fudge.
"When can I see you again?" he urgently asked when he'd squeezed off his final drop of dew. "I've got to see you again to find out if this is all real or a dream."
"Give me your number," I said. "I'll give you a call-after I read your rave column in the paper about my exhibit at the Sunshine Gallery. Dig?"
He dug. He was more like a grateful puppy than a grown man.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Thursday a letter came for Lori. The return address and the name of the sender were my own.
I tore it open, knowing that it was news from home from my sister. The suspense was killing me so much that the paper rattled when I first tired to steady it before my eyes.
"Dear Sis," my twin's handwriting began. "I guess you're wondering how I'm getting along with Rick..." Excited, I skipped ahead for some revealing details. I knew that if anything had happened, Lori would not hesitate to call a spade a spade.
But there was nothing that caught my eye. Even backtracking the text didn't help.
Finally I calmed down enough to read the entire letter from start to finish. To my astonishment, it was dull as dishwater. As it turned out Lori claimed to be getting along with my husband by going bowling with him.
"And Friday I'm going to surprise him with corn fritters instead of meatloaf," she wrote on. "I talked to Puck's mother on the phone and she told me he loved them when he was a boy."
When she started writing about what Rick must have been like as the little boy his mother had mentioned, I gave up and crumpled the letter into a ball. I was seething with frustration as I slam-dunked it into the waste basket.
The phone rang while I was still fidgeting. Believe me, I was grateful for the interruption. Anything to take my mind off what was or what wasn't happening back home in the suburbs.
"Hello," I answered, "Cra ... uh, Morgan residence." Whew, I had to watch it.
"Mrs. Morgan?"
"Ms.," I corrected the voice on the other end of the line, proud of my newly found independent status as a woman.
"Oh, I see," the voice responded as though its owner were hurriedly writing something down. "Well, Ms. Morgan, this is your daughter's school. Sandra Morgan is your daughter, I resume."
I said she was.
"Well, we must see you as soon as possible, Ms. Morgan." "Trouble?" I bleated before I could suppress it. "We'll have to discuss it," I was cut off. "I'll be expecting you at two this afternoon. Just ask for Gertrude Robbins, vice-principal of girls."
So now I had something new to worry about. By the time I hung up the phone, Lori's letter was gone from my mind and I was wondering what kind of problems Sandy was having at school. Remembering something her mother had said Tuesday on the phone, I decided it must have to do with her cutting classes.
Getting ready for my appointment with the vice-principal, I was caught on the horns of a dilemma. How should I dress?
Finally I decided that the welfare of the child involved came first. How would Sandy fare in today's competitive world without a high school diploma?
Lori's closet contained a cedar chest full of old clothes that she'd apparently saved to remind her of the suburban past she'd fled. She even had girdles and bras in there, something I never thought I'd find on her premises.
Well, I took advantage of it, that's for sure. Anchored by the sturdiest foundation garments I could wriggle into, I muffled myself in a blocky tweed suit Lori must have bought that winter ten years ago it was so bitterly cold in the suburbs. When I pulled my hair back, believe me, I looked like a middle-class witch.
Deciding that the Vespa would not be appropriate, I took a taxi to my appointment. As I walked up the steps of the school and felt my girdle pinch, I was brimming with confidence that I could handle the vice-principal.
"I'm here to see Gertrude Robbins," I told the woman at the desk.
"Are ... are you her sister?" the secretary stammered.
"I beg your pardon."
"I'm sorry," she blushed. "It's just that you look so much like the vice-principal. I should have checked my appointment schedule."
She looked self-consciously downward, burying her nose in the pages of a memorandum book. "Oh yes, here it is, two o'clock. You must be Lori Morgan, Sandra's mother. The vice-principal is expecting you in her office. I'll show you the way."
She got up from her desk and escorted me to an office down the hall. "Listen, I'm really sorry about that mistake I made back there," she said at the door. But it's just that you and the vice-principal look so much alike I just ... just assumed ..."
"Forget it," I said, and walked into the office.
Even I was stunned by the resemblance. With my clunky clothing, hair in a tight bun, and some reading glasses I'd worn for effect, I looked more like Gertrude Robbins' twin sister than Lori's. In my current get-up, looking into the vice-principal's face was like seeing my reflection in a mirror.
She must have noticed it, too. However, she was not the sort to show emotion and confined herself to a couple of deep breaths before she asked me to sit down.
Robbins was a haughty bitch who sat at her desk like a queen on a throne. Obviously she intended to treat me like one of her wayward subjects.
She didn't even mention Sandy as our conversation started. Instead, she zeroed right in on me.
"Let us dispense with this trendy Ms. nonsense," she bit into her words. "Are you Miss or Mrs. Morgan?"
"Miss."
"Have you ever been married?"
"Yes, of course. To Sandra's father."
"I see," she said skeptically. "How did you happen to revert to your maiden name if you were legally married as you say?"
This called for some improvising I hadn't anticipated. "The marriage was an unhappy experience," I said. "After the divorce, I wanted to forget all about it."
"Did you want to forget about the marriage, Miss Morgan, or men?" she asked as though it was her right to know everything about me.
"What does this have to do with my daughter?" I found myself impulsively standing up to her.
"Everything," she said icily.
"Please explain."
"Children without fathers tend to over compensate for the lack of a male influence in their lives. In other words, they act-out, misbehave. Especially girls."
"And this includes Sandy?" I figured out her line of reasoning.
"Precisely," she smiled like the tutor of a retarded child whose charge has just grasped a simple concept. "Frankly, Miss Morgan, your daughter has the school in an uproar."
Knowing Sandy, I could guess what she'd been up to. Free-spirited as she was from her unconventional upbringing, she was undoubtedly fucking anyone who appealed to her. This could include both faculty and students.
"Sandra is promiscuous," the vice-principal lowered the boom. "And now that I've heard the family history, I can fully understand why. The poor child is so confused by her environment that she can't help herself. It is you, Miss Morgan, whom I hold accountable for all this unfortunate behavior on your daughter's part."
She went on to explain that Sandy had been caught fucking three times on school property. Once with the captain of the football team-the coach was furious; once with the president of the Bible Club; and in a utility closet with the janitor.
The last incident was the final straw.
"We can't have this sort of behavior!" the vice-principal thundered. "Miss Perkins, the librarian who discovered your daughter and the janitor, had to take a week off from work to settle her nerves."
I felt like I was beginning to get some insight into Gertrude Robbins. Beneath that imperious facade there was a crack in the armor I felt I could perceive.
"How did you react to the news of my daughter and the janitor?" I asked.
"I felt it was outrageous conduct!"
"Weren't you just a wee bit jealous, Miss Robbins?"
"I beg your pardon," she gasped, showing real vulnerability for the first time.
"You're not married either, are you Miss Robbins?" I gambled on penetrating her defense even further.
"No," she replied with terse anxiety, obviously wishing this phase of the conversation to go no further.
"And you're living with the librarian, this Miss Perkins." I said it as a statement of fact, not a question.
"Yes," Miss Robbins admitted, her tone remarkably subdued.
"And you're lovers. Lesbians!" I accused. "The reason you're so burnt up about my daughter fucking guys is that she won't make it with you and your dyke roomie. Old Perkins saw that big cock in Sandy's cunt and just got sick that my daughter preferred well-hung guys to you two cockless wonders. When she told you, you blew your top."
"Wha. . .what difference does it make if Miss Perkins and I happen to live together?" Miss Robbins cringed like a cornered rat. "What do you think you're saying?"
"That you and your female lover are pissed off hat Sandy doesn't want to make it with you," I charged.
She bolted up from her chair. Her face was scarlet with the double-effects of embarrassment and rage. Stalking around her desk, she raised her hand with the obvious intent of slapping me.
Not about to have my hard-won dominance of the proceedings terminated because of physical violence, I stood up and stopped the blow by grabbing Miss Robbins' wrist. In the process my elbow banged into her tit. I'm still not sure whether or not it was intentional. "Miss Morgan!" the vice-principal shrieked. "What do you think you're doing?"
"What does it feel like?" I coolly replied, rubbing the hard tip of my elbow back and forth against the tit that was somewhere under all that clothing.
"You're ... you're fondling me!" she continued aghast. "Fondling my bosom!"
"And you love it," I went for broke. "I'll bet your pussy's already soaking wet."
I could tell by the way she automatically rubbed her thighs together that I had hit the nail on the head.
"It's running down your legs, isn't it, Gertrude?" I poured it on. "You can probably feel that hot pussy juice all the way down to your knees by now, can't you, Gertrude?"
She was silent as her face turned red with embarrassment.
"Can't you, Gertrude?"
At first she nodded her head. Then, painfully, she gasped, "Yes ... yes ..."
I looked down toward her feet just in time to see her ankles suddenly flash with wetness. Soon there was a pool of sticky juice forming on the floor.
"You're gushing, Gertrude," I taunted her. "Your cunt must be the size of a water main."
"Please ... please," she begged. "Don't mock me.
"I'm not going to mock you," I grinned. "I'm going to fuck you!"
Her eyes widened to the size of fifty-cent pieces behind the magnifying lenses of her glasses, as I ripped at her blouse. In the jerking motion, her glasses skidded off the end of her nose at the same time her chest was exposed. Encased in a gunwale bra, her pointed tits loomed out toward me like missiles. Above, their owner blinked while she tried to adjust her eyes.
"Why, Miss Robbins," I teased, without your glasses you're beautiful."
I leaned forward to give her a quick kiss. It was quickly expanded when I felt how good my stiff tongue tasted inside her mouth.
As the kiss became deeper and deeper I slid my fingers inside the bra and began squeezing the vice-principal's tits. To my satisfaction they were splendidly firm.
When we backed off for air, she begged me to keep on feeling her up, but I resisted. I had a little game in mind that I wanted to play. It was called Mirror, Mirror on the Wall, Who's the Fairest One of All?
Since Gertrude Robbins and I were virtually reflected images of one another in our clunky clothes, it would be fascinating to see how we stacked up out of them. The vice-principal had been divested of her glasses and blouse, now it was my turn to match her.
I ripped open my blouse, hearing the ripped buttons roll across the floor. My bra was a battleship, too. After I removed my glasses, I upped the ante by letting down my hair so that it fell in waves across my shoulders.
Seeing that it was her turn, Miss Robbins unpinned her bun. Suddenly her face was framed with a cascade of lustrous curls and for the first time she looked truly beautiful.
Now that her hair was down she had to decide how to up the stakes. What should come off next?
When she chucked off her jacket and the gaping blouse, I was certain she was going to remove her massive bra. However, to my surprise, at the last instant her hands dropped to her waist and she undid her skirt. It abruptly fell in a bunch around her ankles along with her slip.
I got my first look at her girdle. It was a monster. However, what interested me most about it was not its yards of elastic, but its color. The thing was spotlessly white.
Except for a dark crescent of growing proportions right at the crotch. Yes, her cunt was soaking through. I licked my lips.
Quickly my blouse, jacket, slip and skirt were piled at my feet and I was showing off my girdle. To my glee, my stain was just as big and moist as the vice-principal's.
Now it was my turn to make the next move, so I attacked my bra. It was an old-style one, so I broke a couple of fingernails on the clasps in back, but it wouldn't have bothered me if I had sprained my hand ripping it off for the chance to show off my tits.
Looking down, I saw that my jugs were in fine form, despite the imprisonment in the bra. My nipples were crimson, and standing out at least an inch apiece.
Miss Robbins' nervous hands fluttered like birds as they went to her back. Now she was really going to have to show me something besides her formidable wardrobe of underwear.
At last the bra came loose. She slid it modestly down her chest, but she couldn't delay the inevitable for long.
Especially when I became impatient and snatched it away from her quaking bosom. I couldn't wait a second longer to see those bare tits.
They were perfect, if I may say modestly say so, just like mine. And Lori's, of course. So far it was as though the three of us were triplets.
A hunger cried out in me to nestle my face in Gertrude Robbins' cleavage and eat her tits, but I restrained myself. The strip tease still had a little way to go, and the last was certainly not going to be the least.
It was time for Gertrude to remove her girdle and stockings. When she was finished she would be totally nude. Soon after, so would I. My stomach was churning with excited anticipation.
She had a hard time working herself out of the girdle. Skin-tight to began with, at least half of it had become even dingier with the stickiness of pussy juice.
I loved watching the formerly dignified vice-principal bump and grind to get free. She hadn't an ounce of fat on her and sinewy muscles played all over her gorgeous body. God, I hoped I wasn't flattering myself that I looked as good as she did.
Finally the girdle was off, landing in a wet plop somewhere over in a corner. I was looking straight at the bushy triangle of Gertrude's cunt drooling.
Her pussy was beautiful. Looking at it was like looking at Lori's-or mine. What I was seeing now must have been what Lori saw when she and I stripped to make incestuous love.
"You're staring," the vice-principal said something for the first time in a long time. "Aren't you going to take off the rest of your clothing?"
Indeed, I was! Of course, I was going to still continue staring at her tits and cunt every step of the way. Her naked body was hypnotic.
My girdle fought back, but I quickly vanquished its elastic stubbornness. Now I was totally nude, and Gertrude Robbins was staring at me as hard as I was at her.
"Y ... you're my exact double," she gasped, "all the way down to the most intimate parts of our bodies."
"Let's see if we make love the same, too," I panted, and started maneuvering her back toward the desk.
She made no attempt to resist. Obviously she wanted it as badly as I did. When her ass touched the wood, she immediately hoisted herself up on the top of the desk and spread her legs in my face.
Her pussy gaped so openly that I could see all the way inside her. Its ripe scent made my nostrils flare and eyes water. "Mmmmmmm," was all I could say.
"Get on top of me and fuck me," she took the initiative for the first time. "Let me feel your cunt pressing against mine."
I was wriggling over her in a second, grinding my pelvis into the well of our thighs. Already my pussy lips were smearing against her vulva, making her quiver with delight. "I'm coming already," she announced. "I've never had a cunt make me come so quickly."
"By the time I'm finished with you, you'll forget you ever made love with any other woman," I confidently replied, tweaking my turgid clitoris against hers.
"Is that a threat or a promise?" she rasped.
"Both!" I declared and sealed her mouth with a deep, deep soul-kiss.
While my rigid tongue traveled down her throat like an oral hard-on, I began to squeeze her perfect tits. Eventually I concentrated on the nipples, turning them black and blue with my fervent pinches.
However, the main action was between our legs. Even though we hadn't the semblance of a cock between us, we were fucking as mightily and intensely as any heterosexual couple.
Oh, it was divine. Our cunts were creaming as they set up a hotter and hotter friction between them. My clit must have felt like a nail gouging her twat, because hers sure did as it ripped my ultra-sensitive labia.
When we broke our soul-kiss she told me to call her Trudy. I urged her just as strongly to call me Lori.
"Fuck me, Lori, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"
"Harder, Trudy, harder. Make me come harder and harder!"
We were twisting, writhing and pumping, two women fucking with perfect friction. No men need apply!
Finally we had come as many times as we could in this position, and moved for a switch. Swiveling around 180 degrees on top of Trudy, I maneuvered myself into the classic sixty-nine position. Now we would start the orgasmic cavalcade all over again from eating each other's cunts.
Trudy's pussy tasted as familiar as I'd thought I would. Just like Lori's when I sucked her twat. Just like mine when I was masturbating and licked my own juice off my fingers. The similarity was a damn absolute miracle!
At my snatch, her rigid tongue poked its way up my fuck-hole exactly as my twin sister's had so many times. The rest of her body may have been off in the suburbs impersonating me, but it sure felt like Lori's tongue was right here up my cunt, and her wet pussy in my face.
I started eating Trudy's snatch like she was eating mine-ravenously, like a wolf of sex. I imagined our teeth as fangs as we ripped into each other's vulnerable, raw pussy flesh.
Then we really put our tongues to work. They became high-speed drills, grooving their hilted inches toward our ovaries. I was coming even harder from sixty-nining than I had during our pussy-fuck. Similar in every way, our bodies were made for each other. Making love for us was as natural as breathing.
The desk was rocking from our efforts when I slid my cunt down to Trudy's tits. There I mouthed the nipples with the loose, soggy lips, fondling her with my sloppy pussy. She loved it and began to moan for more, more.
I shoved one of the stiff nipples up my fuck-hole and started twitching my ass. Trudy was screwing me with her tit and squealing with delight.
After I'd come a few times from this variation, I switched places, as I had been doing so often with look-alikes lately. Now I was working one of my breasts between Trudy's open thighs, inserting the erect nipple between her pouting pussy lips.
"Fuck me, Lori, fuck me!" she cried excitedly. "Fuck me with your big tit!"
I ground it in there, getting more and more of the gland to go inside along with the nipple. Eventually almost a third of my breast was wedged between Trudy's widely stretched labia. Hearkening back to Lori's career as an artist, I considered it a masterpiece of sex. "God, I'm coming, I'm coming so hard!" Trudy yelped. "No one's ever made love to me like this!"
"You've never met my sister," I unwittingly let the cat out of the bag.
"A sister," Trudy breathlessly gasped. "You have a sister? There's another woman on earth like you, Lori?"
I couldn't get out of an explanation now that I had blundered, so I would just have to see it through. "Yes," I told the truth. "Exactly like me. We're identical twins."
Trudy swooned. "Then that means that you and I and she, the three of us are . ... " "The Holy Trinity of sex," I strengthened my position with a wise-crack.
"I've got to meet her," Trudy's mouth watered. "Got to meet her . ... " "Don't worry, I'm sure you will," I knowingly reassured her. "And you and Sandy might be seeing a little more eye-to-eye in the bargain."
CHAPTER EIGHT
When I left the vice-principal's office, I had all that I wanted-a promise that Sandy would be treated like an honor student from now on, and a fully satisfied libido. I was quite pleased with myself.
As for my promise to Gertrude Robbins that she could meet my twin sister, well, why not? Lori would be thrilled to hear about a third member of our look-alike club. When we were back in our normal roles the two of us would have to pay a friendly visit to the school to see how our respective daughter and niece was getting along. Trudy would never know which of us was really who, nor once we got our clothes off would she care in the slightest.
Presenting Lori with the news about her daughter's horny vice-principal at the end of the week would be my little gift to my sister. She'd love it!
By Friday evening, however, I was wondering whether I felt such generosity toward my twin. Lori had failed to get in touch with me since her meaningless letter on Thursday, and I hadn't talked with her candidly about what was going on at home since last Tuesday morning.
The more I thought about it, the more suspicious I became. Sandy was out on a date with Mickey Rice, and I was by myself to nurture my growing doubts.
I looked at the clock and saw that it was six-thirty. Around dinner time at home. I thought about the corn fritters Lori had said she was going to feed Rick tonight instead of beloved meatloaf.
If I tried anything so bold my husband would probably deck me. Would that be Lori's fate?
No, I couldn't picture my liberated sister getting shoved around by some man. If anybody had to give, I assumed it would be Rick.
I started to imagine a different scenario from my original. In this one Lori puts the kids to bed and serves dinner by candlelight. It's just the two of them, my sister and my husband, and she's practicing all of her feminine wiles.
A peek down her neckline so Rick can see she's not wearing a bra tonight. A flash of thigh. Rick has a boner by the time he doesn't get his meatloaf.
Lori's a lousy cook, so I know the corn fritters must look like hell. Even in the dim candlelight their sogginess must show if they're undercooked, or the black crust around the edges if they're burnt.
Rick doesn't care what kind of slop she's served in place of his normally beloved meatloaf. He's turned on to my sister in a way he hasn't been turned on to me in years. His cock is practically tearing his pants open.
"You don't want your meat loafing tonight, do you Rick?" Lori makes a lascivious pun. "Let's forget about dinner and go into the bedroom and fuck."
Rick can't plead a hard day at the office this time. Not with his dick about ready to burst out of his fly.
Lori unzips him and pulls out the tool I've found so puny for so long. It's only six inches, but she carries on like it's a monster. Rick feels more like a man than he has at any other time in our marriage.
They run to the bedroom, stripping away their clothing along the way. By the time they hop in bed they are naked and already going for each other's genitals. Rick, who's always frowned on cunnilingus as disgusting and perverse, can't wait to eat what he thinks is my raunchy muff; Lori is giving him the kind of oral attention a woman usually reserves for a prick not under ten inches long.
"I love your big cock," she flatters him, rubbing her lips over its throbbing crown.
He answers by snaking his tongue up her fuck-hole. For the first time in our marriage my husband's finally decided to eat some pussy, and I'm not even there to enjoy it.
Instead, as I sat there in Lori's lonely apartment and envisioned it, I was in agony. I was certain that what I was thinking was on its way to becoming reality, if it already hadn't. The jealousy was killing me.
It seemed as though I could hear the slurping and moaning that always goes with a sixty-nine. If Rick didn't come too quickly, soon I would be possessed by the vision of them actually fucking.
But he does come. Suddenly his cock lurches in Lori's face and her cheeks swell. Excess jizz begins to trickle from the corners of her prick-engorged mouth.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I was positive he couldn't do anything more and my conscious nightmare was over before the ultimate act took place. Rick hadn't been able to get it up more than once in years. He wouldn't be able to fuck my sister.
But, if I was right, why wouldn't my imagination leave me alone. Rick and Lori just wouldn't go away.
I closed my eyes. I got up out of my chair and threw cold water in my face from the kitchen sink. Then I paced. When I sat down again I pressed my fingertips to my temples for cerebral stability.
None of it worked. Fantasy was still reality in my mind.
Lori is stroking Rick's glistening cock. She kisses the bobbing head while she jacks him off. "We can't let your meat loaf, now can we?" she lewdly repeats her atrocious pun. "We've got to get you big and hard again if you're going to fuck me good and proper."
He's panting like a lap dog. Ordinarily such breathlessness might indicate he's having one of his hay-fever attacks, but this time it's clearly from sexual excitement. Rick's eyes grow round as he watches his prick swell larger and larger.
Finally my husband's cock has recovered like a teenager's. It's even stiffer than it was before coming in Lori's mouth, curving upward from his groin.
Lori flops over on her hands and knees and sticks her dripping twat in Rick's face from the rear. "Fuck me," she urges, "fuck me like a dog!"
I realized with a start that I had underestimated my twin. I should have known that a simple fuck would never satisfy her.
She has taken this kneeling position for an obvious reason. She won't let up on Rick until he's fucked and come inside her ass as well as her pussy.
At the moment he's guiding his pulsing cockhead between the supple folds of her gash. Cunt first, asshole for the grand finale is apparently how the script goes.
"Jam it in!" she cries. "Jam your cock in my cunt until I can feel your balls against the outside of my pussy!"
"Ooooommmphhh!" Rick's effort resound.
"Oh, I can feel it, I can feel it," Lori sings. 'T can feel your huge cock sliding all the way up my cunt. Harder ... harder . ... " Huge cock? By the ruler, Rick's hard-on still doesn't exceed six meager inches. However because of the way my sister is handling it, it seems nearly twice as long.
He's pumping her with a full engorgement now, whamming away to Lori's inner depths. But, of course, it's my name he calls when he rasps, "Your pussy has never been so tight before, Ruthie. Have you been exercising?"
"Just a little something I picked up from The Total Woman," Lori manages with a straight face. "That Marabel what's-her-face is dynamite."
"Some of the wives of the guys down at the office are into that," Rick falls for it like the middle-class chauvinistic clod that he is. "I heard it got results, but this is something else!"
"Isn't this the kind of wife you want?" Lori asks him. "One who can run a house like she has a staff of servants in the daytime, and act like a whore at night?"
"You better believe it," he drools. "You make me feel like my cock is ten feet long!"
"Well, maybe not quite that big," Lori sexily coos "but definitely long enough. Now let's stop gabbing and really start fucking."
Rick's all for that. He's so horny he acts like a guy who hasn't seen a naked woman in a year, not one who just came in a female mouth mere minutes ago.
Their conversation changes to reciprocal grunting. They sound-and look-like two animals in the barnyard. God, are they fucking hard!
Then Rick slams his pelvis against Lori's backside. His face turns red, then purple. His cheeks swell up. The veins are bulging on his forehead from the pressure that has built up inside him and is about to be released.
He lets the air out of his mouth with whoosh. At the same time his nuts contract and cling to each side of his phallic root.
"Arrrrgggghhhh!" he howls.
He's coming.
The edges of my sister's cunt immediately becomes foamy with backsliding cum. It's dripping ... dripping . .. dripping down her thighs, turning them from tan to alabaster.
I wished it were me. I wished it were me my husband was so gloriously fucking as much as he thought it was me. My just-fucked cunt that the jizz was bubbling out of.
But it's not over yet. Just as I predicted, Lori is wiggling her can and drawing attention to her asshole the instant Rick has withdrawn his spent prick from her saturated pussy.
She throws her arms in back of her and gouges her fingers into the cheeks of her butt. When she pries them apart her anus if rosily gaping at Rick like a half-size twat. He knows he must fuck it if he's to call himself a man.
My husband has come twice within minutes. But, incredibly, his cock is still as hard as a rock.
I didn't remember him having this kind of carnal strength even when we were having pre-marital sex in high school. The effect Lori had on him was astounding.
And to think it all started from not serving him meatloaf on Friday.
Rick is knifing Lori's asshole with his prick. He's determined to get inside the succulent orifice no matter what. It's the first time he's ever ass-fucked his wife.
My anus tingled as I thought about it. My marriage was being saved in the bedroom, but I was ironically out in the cold.
My husband's cock is nowhere to be seen now. Lori's prick-hungry rectum has swallowed it. They're both moaning with ecstasy.
Rick loves the tight feel of a spasming female asshole around his turgid dick. It makes him want to pump faster and faster, increasing the friction until it seems a fire will be started.
I couldn't stand it. I knew he was going to come within seconds. This envy was murder.
As far as I was concerned, Rick really was fucking Lori in the ass. And they just wouldn't stop.
He works his cock like a piston in her tight shit-pit. She loves it, crying, "Drill me ... drill me! Drill my ass!"
Sweat is pouring from his naked body as he works his loins overtime. The glistening perspiration oils his body and shows Rick's muscles to their best advantage in years. He looks and acts like a young boy again.
"Come, come you bastard!" Lori yells like a gutter tramp. "Come in my fucking ass, you son of a bitch!"
Rick doesn't mind her salty tongue at all. In fact, by this time he loves it. His total woman has degenerated into a foul-mouthed slut and he can't get enough of it.
Lori shakes her tail. Rick whinnies like a randy stallion from the whipsawing effect on his deeply engorged cock.
This was too much for me to bear. A wife shouldn't have to witness her husband doing something like this to another woman, even if it is all in her mind.
And maybe because it is.
Yes, my own dirty thoughts were making this happen. My marriage was such a flop that I automatically assumed my husband would be wildly responsive to any stimulus different than the one which I presented. My sister could figuratively wrap Rick around her little finger- which translated literally to making him come three times within twenty minutes.
In fact, the final ejaculation was happening now within my over-active imagination.
"Arrrrgghhh!" Rick wails from the euphoria of orgasmic release.
"Oh, baby," Lori groans, "you're flooding my ass. I love it."
The excess spunk floods from her butt even faster than it did her overflowing cunt. The backs of her thighs are coated anew with a slick veneer of fresh cum.
I leaped to my feet and screamed at the top of my lungs. This was too much! I couldn't stand it anymore.
My first scream did no good. When I was finished I could still see Rick's jizz dribbling from my sister's cock-engorged asshole. So I screamed again.
At last, a perceptible dimming of the lewd image.
I screamed a third time and held it until my lungs were on fire.
Rick and Lori were gone at last. Their naked, fuck-locked bodies no longer inflamed my mind.
CHAPTER NINE
There was just no way I could keep myself locked in Lori's apartment a moment longer. Throwing on a coat, I dashed out of the building and climbed aboard the Vespa. The trip on the open, tiny motor scooter all the way to the suburbs was a rough one, but the only discomfort I felt was that occasioned by my own anxiety.
It was about ten when I arrived on our street. Parking down the block so Lori and Rick wouldn't hear the Vespa, I crept up into our yard until I was in the bushes at the bottom of the living room's picture window. Peering in at the corner, I could see through a gap in the drapes into the house.
The television was on. I recognized a re-run of an old serial. Yes, it was after ten all right.
I shifted the direction of my glancing view to the other side of the room. Lori and Rick were nowhere in sight, but the kids were lolling on the sofa in their pajamas with their eyes glued to the action on the TV set.
I heard the kids start to talk during a commercial. By plastering my ear against the window I could make out the words.
"That was a howl when Mom served that gook to Dad instead of his Friday meatloaf," Nancy chuckled.
"Yeah, did you see the old man's face?" Tommy laughed. "He looked like he was going to kill her."
"I thought it was pretty slick, though, the way she cooled him down and got him to take her to a restaurant," Nancy interjected. "I've never seen Mom so smooth."
So my fantasy hadn't come true after all. Nothing had actually happened like my imagination had figured it. I felt bathed in a warm glow of relief.
"The best part is that we get to stay up late and watch Police State for a change," my twelve year old son boyishly enthused. "Shhhhh, here it comes back on again. I think there's an ambush coming up."
Nancy wasn't looking at the TV screen, however. Her eyes were riveted to a gap at the fly of her brother's pajamas. From where she sat she could easily see what he had between his legs.
My warm glow of relief evaporated like it had just been hit by a blast of desert air.
"Hey, what're you looking at?" he suddenly noticed her stare.
Nancy just smiled. Then she passed the tip of her tongue over her upper lip.
"What's going on here?" Tommy blustered. "You tell me what's so funny or I'll bust you one, even if you are my sister and a girl."
She still didn't answer with words. Instead she laid her hand down in his lap and inserted his fingers in the opening of his fly.
"Oooooohhh," he suddenly moaned. "You're gonna make me wet if you don't stop that."
"That's the general idea, isn't it?" she crooned. Then, lifting his prick from his pajamas, Nancy began stroking it.
Tommy's cock swelled by the second. By the time it was completely hard it was as long as his father's.
"This is better than TV, don't you think?" Nancy teased her brother.
He agreed it was by asking, "Are you gonna let me fuck you again tonight, Nancy? I want it real bad."
"After I see what kind of job you do in my mouth," she replied. "My stomach is grumbling for some of my little brother's hot cum."
"Then blow me," he gushed. "My nuts are already turning blue."
She stripped him and laid him out on the couch. His cock was sticking straight up in the air like a derrick.
Slowly, tantalizingly, Nancy began to give her little brother head. At first the only part of his prick her lips covered was the throbbing head. Then, gradually, she began slurping her way down the gracefully arching shaft.
"God, I'm lucky to have a big sister like you," Tommy moaned appreciatively. "Nobody can suck my cock the way you can, Nancy."
I shivered, thinking of who else my son might be having sex with. And if Tommy was so experienced at twelve, what must his fifteen-year-old sister be up to with her friends?
My own sheltered kids were apparently as sexually active as the immorally raised Sandy. I felt like I had completely failed as a mother.
"Jesus!" Tommy shrieked. "Jesus, I'm gonna have cream!"
His hard-on lurched to the hilt in Nancy's mouth, as he gasped with the thrill of release. Suddenly her cheeks were swelling with all the cum that was rushing into her mouth.
After a few moments of apparently solid spurting, she couldn't hold it anymore and the boy-jism came surging from her gasping mouth. When she momentarily turned and looked toward the window, I had a full view of my daughter's semen-drenched face. I couldn't take the shock, and averted my gaze. It was just too, too horrible.
However some masochistic impulse within me would not permit me to ignore the action for long. Eventually I was uncontrollably staring through the gap in the drapes again, panting to see what was going to happen next. I didn't know whether to be more ashamed that I had raised two such children, or that I had a voyeur's urge to spy on them.
Tommy, already nude, was undressing his older sister now. I felt my mouth involuntarily water from her beauty as he efficiently stripped away her nightie. At fifteen, my daughter was an absolute knock-out-even sexier than her cousin Sandy.
Her tits were nearly as large as a grown woman's, but without any of drooping heaviness of an adult's. They sprung from her chest like they were filled with coiled wire. At the pointed tips, the nipples protruded like little red light bulbs.
After taking in the splendor of her teenage breasts, my bulging eyes took inventory of the rest of Nancy's spectacularly nude body. Looking her over was a sinful treat I just couldn't withhold from myself.
Her belly was as firm as iron mesh. The curve of her hips was like graceful anatomical poetry. Her legs were long, lean and tanned.
But, of course, the best was right in the middle. At the crux of her honeyed thighs in a jet black triangle of unbelievable sensuality.
Her cunt. The soul of her femininity.
Just looking at it made me hot all over. Soon my own pussy was leaking down my thighs.
What a hairy twat she had for a fifteen-year-old girl. I hadn't really gotten a good look between her legs since I'd stopped giving her baths several years ago. My daughter had grown up beyond my wildest dreams. Where had the time flown?
He was so excited, Tommy's hard-on was poking into Nancy's stomach. His prick hadn't gone down an iota from recently coming. So commanding was his arousal that now I turned my attention to a thorough inspection of my son's body.
Body-hair hadn't come yet to signify impending manhood on my son, but everything else had. Not even fully grown yet, his cock was big enough to satisfy the cunt of any woman. His balls were round and churning, bobbing up and down in their tight, pink sack.
I felt a maddening desire to reach out and touch him. To grip my fingers around his slim tool and stroke its foreskin over its sensitive, throbbing head.
But, of course, Nancy was the only one who could do anything about what I saw. And she was a lot more ambitious than any simple jack job.
"Fuck me, Tommy," she said, falling back on the couch so her legs flew open. Her cunt was flexing between her spread thighs like a hairy fist.
Tommy charged her with boyish enthusiasm. Before he could get it in, he flailed her with the pole of his cock. The leftover cum that had coated it smeared whitely all over the dense curls of Nancy's billowing pubic bush.
"Settle down, little brother, settle down," the more experienced Nancy soothed him. "I want to feel your prick inside my cunt, not have it beat me black and blue."
"Sorry, Sis," he gulped self-consciously. "It's just that seeing your pussy all spread open like that in front of me makes me go ape. None of the girls at junior high have a cunt anywhere near yours."
"Your compliments are always gratefully accepted," she replied. "But your dick in my tight snatch will get you a lot further than any flattery."
Tommy was steadied now, and took his hard-on in his hand like a dagger. He thrust it in and twisted it like he was doing in an enemy between the shoulder blades.
Apparently Nancy was experiencing the same imagery. "Stab me, Tommy, stab me!" she cried. "Rip me up inside!"
The little sex maniac was doing his best. He was using his prick like a weapon, cutting and slashing his sister's cunt with it.
"Harder ... harder!" she implored. "Fuck me harder!"
I didn't think it was possible for Tommy to apply any more energy to his violent fucking motion, but I underestimated his inexhaustible storehouse of youthful vigor. Not only could he accelerate his movements until the lower half of his body was a blur, he never even took a deep breath. His father would be dead of a heart attack by now.
"Ahhh, that's it," Nancy whimpered with joy. "Now you're really fucking me, little brother."
It was time for the cum. I was so mesmerized that I made no pretense of looking away from something my conscience kept telling me was repulsive.
"Unnnnhhhh!" Tommy grunted and his loins jerked like he'd just taken a live wire up his butt.
"Ahhhhhhh!" Nancy gasped as the spunk came rolling into her cunt.
The seminal lather appeared in bowed bands of froth at the sides of Nancy's cock-filled pussy. Almost immediately it was trickling down her thighs. Tommy was apparently coming more the second time than the first.
Finally I broke my lock on my gaze and kneeled down in the bushes facing the ground beneath me. In my shame and guilt, the dirt was just where I felt I belonged.
How could this have happened, I wailed inside. How could I have been such a failure as a mother after I'd tried so hard?
I couldn't be mad at the kids. It wasn't their fault I'd done such a miserable job bringing them up.
I felt such a gap between us. I couldn't see how at this late date we could ever work things out and be honest with each other. The kids would resent it if I tried to stick my nose in their business after so many years of being ignorant of their wants and needs.
I found myself envious of Lori. I had always frowned on the permissive way she'd raised Sandy, but at least the two of them had no secrets from one another. Despite all the facets of their life-style that would cause respectable people to raise their eyebrows, Lori and Sandy were as close as a mother and her child are supposed to be.
Feeling like I had to get as far away as I could from the house before I puked, I tried to lift myself to my feet. Wobbly but upright, I turned to leave.
A blood-curdling scream stopped me in my tracks. One of Nancy's.
Dropping automatically to my knees again, I resumed my vigil at the window, not knowing what I expected to see. Looking back, I was naive not to have figured it out in advance.
Unless he was breaking her arm or slashing her throat, there was only one way Tommy could get his sister to scream like that. He was fucking her in the ass.
"Oooooh, it's so tight, Tommy, it's so tight," Nancy articulated her joyful agony. "It hurts so gooood."
He was standing over her tipped-over form with his palms flushed against the cheeks of her ass to steady her. Both of them behaved as though they'd performed this particular act several times before.
"Can't you push it in any deeper?" my daughter pantingly questioned her brother. "I want to feel the head of your cock all the way in my shit."
"I hope you've got plenty of it inside you," Tommy responded. "I like the way that hot crap squishes against the end of my dick."
"Don't worry, little brother," Nancy cracked, "I assure you your big sister is full of shit."
Tommy laughed, gouging his prick into her asshole to the hilt. His balls were tightly squashed against her cunt, doing some chafing work on her clit. The harder he fucked her in the butt, the more he stimulated the sensitive outer petals of her pussy. She had to be coming in both holes.
As they went at it hot and heavy, I was seized by anxiety. Although my eyes were transfixed by the lewdly incestuous action rocking the living room sofa, inside I knew I didn't have the emotional strength to witness another ejaculation.
"I've got to get out of here," I heard myself whisper. The sound of my own words made me flinch.
My voice had an eerie quality that made it seem like it was coming from someone else. It was hard for me to believe that it was actually me squatting here in the bushes spying on my children fucking.
I felt disembodied-as though I was watching this ghastly episode in my life unfold in some horror movie. This couldn't really be happening. Oh, but it was.
That was definitely Tommy pulling his spurting prick out of his sister's ass with a loud pop and coming all over her back. Only distance, a pane of glass, and stark, raving fear prevented me from being able to reach out and touch them.
God, Tommy's cum was even thicker than before. My son could apparently keep shooting it all night as long as he had his big sister to fuck. I didn't dare think which sexual variation they would attempt next.
When the bile rose in my throat, I knew I had stayed around too long. Dunking my head into the bushes I vomited as silently as I could.
When I was finished I teetered to my feet and stumbled across the lawn. I had to get to the Vespa down the block and get out of here. Never had I felt such a desperate desire to escape the suburbs and the middle-class way of life.
CHAPTER TEN
The headlights of the car swinging around the corner caught me just as I was picking up a head of steam. I was about a half a block down the street from my house and running for my life.
They couldn't help but see me. The brakes squealed and there I was trapped in two beams of harsh light that extended up and down the full length of the street.
"I think it's a prowler," a man said in the car.
"Are you going to chase him?" a woman asked.
His answer was an opening and slamming door and rapid footsteps striking against the pavement. Suddenly he was in the light, too, running down its corridor straight toward me.
I tried to flee, but everything had gone so wrong I was paralyzed with fear. When I did finally get my legs moving, they abruptly crossed and I stumbled across the lawn of a neighbor until I fell. At least I'd managed to get out of the terrifying light.
I cowered as I waited in the dark for my pursuer to catch up with me. I knew he had every reason to be tough with me because it was a fact that the neighborhood had been beset by burglars lately. People were really up in arms about it, and had vowed to take the law into their own hands if the police continued to do nothing. Crime in the suburbs had an ugly way of turning decent people into vigilantes.
"Okay, you punk, where are you?" my pursuer said. "I know you're around here someplace."
He was standing in the light just a few yards from my futile hiding place on the lawn. When he turned I could see his face. Oh my God, it couldn't be!
"You're not getting away, you lousy rat," he hissed. Now he was so close that I could recognize his voice.
It was Rick!
He and Lori had been coming home from the restaurant and caught me with their headlights fleeing from their house. Naturally they assumed I was a burglar.
Christ, I wished I was. It would be a lot easier to explain than what I'd really been up to.
"Did you see where the bastard went?" Rick called back to the car.
"On Bob Thornton's lawn," Lori replied. Of course she'd know that.
I didn't even try and escape as Rick advanced toward me. What was the use, he was going to catch me anyway. It would be far more helpful to invest my energy into dreaming up a plausible explanation as to what I was doing here..
When Rick finally confronted me, I was sprawled on my back on the lawn, propped up on my elbows. Since he'd stepped out of the light into the dark, I was just a murky form to his unfocused eyes.
"Get up and take your medicine like a man, you son of a bitch!" Rick angrily thundered. "We're sick of you parasites from the city ripping off our neighborhood just because you're too lazy to work. If you're not picking our pockets on welfare, you're breaking into our houses and robbing us blind."
When I said nothing, nor made a move, Rick reached down to haul me up by my throat. However, as he leaned closer to me, he noticed for the first time that I was not a man.
Even in the dark, up close there was no way he could miss it. My legs had flown apart from the impact of my fall, and I'd never bothered to close them. The peasant dress I was wearing was bunched at the top of my thighs.
Since I was wearing no panties, he could see my cunt.
"What the hell?" he came up short.
"Rick," I tried to capitalize on his confusion to keep from getting throttled, "it's me Lori. Your sister-in-law."
He poked his face into mine. Our noses were touching. Even though he was my husband his features seemed vaguely unfamiliar.
"Christ, it is you!" he gasped. "Lori, what are you doing here? Why were you running down the street? You were lucky one of the block watch didn't blast you out of your sandals with a shotgun."
"I ... I thought I'd drop by," I began to improvise, still at a loss to explain what supposedly caused me to run like a thief.
Fortunately I got a respite. Rick turned away and called back to the car, "Ruth, it's Lori. Your crazy sister."
Thank God that swung Lori into action. Before Rick could resume asking me a lot of embarrassing questions, she jumped out of the car and came running to my rescue.
"Oh my God," she cried, "I completely forgot Lori said she might drop by tonight. What must she have thought when we weren't home."
"It's all right," I murmured to no one in particular, grateful the worst had passed.
Now that he had heard an explanation for what was going on, Rick turned his attention back to me. I still expected him to ask why I'd been running, but instead my open thighs attracted his attention long enough for my sister to reach the lawn.
"Come on, let's go in the house," my sister said. "It's cool out here, and there's no telling what conclusions Bob Thornton might jump to with that shotgun of his."
"Good idea," I agreed, eagerly jumping up and leaving Rick staring at a patch of grass in place of my open pussy. I just hoped Tommy and Nancy had gotten enough sex and gone to bed.
In contrast to all his blustering when he thought I was a thief in the night, Rick was totally silent on the way to the house. I didn't have to be very smart to know that he was preoccupied with the lingering image of my cunt.
To my relief the house was dark when we got there. The living room was empty when we walked in and the television set off. The kids were in bed-I hoped not with each other.
When the lights were on and Rick and I seated, Lori went to the kitchen to fix some drinks. While she was gone neither my husband nor I spoke, even though he kept staring at me the entire time. He'd always been uneasy with my sister.
"You know what Rick and I were talking about at dinner," Lori interrupted when she returned with a pitcher of martinis.
"No, what?" I eagerly tried to get some conversation going.
"Swinging," she said devilishly.
"Y ... you're kidding," I said.
"No, I'm not," she replied, obviously intent on pursuing the subject of wife-swapping. "Some of the people Rick works with are into it. They even have a club."
I had an inclination to reach back into my imagination and ask what happened to the total woman, but I managed to suppress it. Instead, I turned to Rick and attempted to draw him out of his silence by asking, "Where do you stand on that, brother-in-law dear?"
It was just the right kind of flip approach to take. Already entranced by the memory of my exposed pussy, Rick impulsively snapped at the bait of my saucy demeanor.
"I think it stinks," he answered my question and then laughed nervously. "I've seen those guys' wives."
"No, seriously," I pressed the point. "Would you mind Ruth making it in the next room with some guy while you were making love to his wife?"
"Yes, dear, what about it?" Lori interjected. "I asked you almost the same question at the restaurant and never got an answer."
Rick squirmed in his chair, uncomfortable in the company of two such inquisitive women. My husband didn't like being ganged up on by the fairer sex.
Lori sensed my husband's uneasiness as acutely as I did. As we briefly glanced into each other's eyes it became clear that neither of us was going to let Rick off the hook.
"Come on, dear," Lori played the part of the nagging wife to the hilt, "it's not fair to lead us on and then clam up. What do you really think about wife-swapping, Rick?"
The needle was in too far for me to have to say anything further. Lori had issued the kind of ultimate dare to my husband that could only come from his better half.
"Ah ... ah ... ah," he stammered incoherently. However, the bulge he had in the crotch spoke volumes.
Lori saw it, too. She was staring right at Rick's bumpy lap.
"Could ... could I have a drink?" Rick stuttered. "My throat's awfully dry."
"Sure," Lori purred. "We have nothing but time."
She poured him a double with a bonus olive. When she started to fix one for me, I waved her off.
"I'm trying to stay off anything that makes me high, Ruth," I said. I hoped to remind Lori of the vow she had made to Sandy to stay off drugs of all kinds.
"Right, right," she knowingly nodded. "I'll just have a cigarette. Want one, Lori?"
So we sat there smoking while Rick drained the double martini like it was a soda.
"Want another one, darling?" Lori asked through a puff of cigarette smoke that did justice to Bette Davis.
"Right-o," Rick slurred. The alcohol was already going to his head. Another chug-a-lugged double and he'd be dead drunk.
"Coming right up," Lori trilled in her imitation of me.
He quaffed the second drink even faster than the first one. After he took the last swallow his body snapped like some springs had just broken inside. He sprawled like a rag doll in his chair.
Lori got up from her chair and walked to Rick's side, dangling her smoldering cigarette and flicking the ashes on his crotch. "Ready to tell us what we want to know, Rick," she said sultrily, "or are we going to have to get it out of you on our own?"
"Uh, wha ... what were we talkin' about?" he stumbled over his words, obviously out on his ass.
"Wife-swapping, my dear," Lori said icily, dropping the ember of her cigarette closer to his crotch. "Would you like to switch partners, Rick honey?"
"Or is Ruth good enough for you?" I impulsively blurted.
"Yes, that's the question, isn't it," my sister sardonically grinned. "Is my pussy good enough for you?"
Rick was too drunk to squirm, but he was plenty pale.
"Yeeeooowww!" he howled with pain as Lori's glowing cigarette butt ground into his groin. The air was suddenly acrid with the reek of burning cloth.
She pulled the ash away just before it blistered his cock. I could see the hole that had been burned all the way through his pants and shorts to his skin.
"Is my pussy good enough for you?" Lori repeated the question on my behalf.
"Answer my sister, you son of a bitch!" I got into the act, vengefully plunging the cigarette I'd been smoking into my husband's lap.
His second yowl was louder than the first as I singed a second miniature tunnel to his cock and balls. It was surprising how much satisfaction it gave me to punish him.
"R ... R ... Ruthie," my pain-struck husband mangled my name, "you ... your pussy's the only one I want."
"Bullshit!" I thundered. "I saw you looking at my cunt out there on the lawn. If you're so loyal to Ruth's box, why were you drooling over her sister's?"
"Yeah!" Lori joined into my improvisation with glee. "I thought it was funny you took so long in the Thorntons' yard."
"P ... please don't burn me again!" Rick begged when the woman he thought was his wife lowered her burning cigarette to the crux of his legs.
Lori paid no attention to his plea. With a cruel smile she burned him all the way down to his prick.
"No more, no more ... please, no more," he sobbed in agony.
I was as heartless as I'd been in Lori's impersonation of me. Dashing my smoking cigarette in Rick's lap, I didn't stop twisting it until he was yowling and I could smell burning flesh. Oh, it was delicious.
"Let's find out which pussy he really likes best," Lori suggested the obvious. "He can fuck each of us."
"But he's so damn drunk," I said. "Do you think he can get it up?"
"If he can't, then we're not women," Lori winked.
We hurriedly stripped for action. When we were nude we gazed longingly at one another's bodies as we always did, marveling at the mirror image.
"Oh, Ruthie," Lori finally blurted, "it's so damn good to see you. You don't know how bored I've been out here in the sticks."
She'd just let the cat out of the bag. Fortunately, Rick had passed out and her potentially shocking news fell on deaf ears.
"Then you never made it with Rick?" I asked incredulously.
"Are you kidding?" she laughed. "I couldn't get him interested in anything but eating, sleeping and bowling until you showed up. You're the first woman I've seen him look at. Flashing your cunt on the lawn really did the trick."
All of a sudden I felt myself bursting with pride. I looked over at Rick with a new perspective now that I realized how much the sight of my pussy had turned him on.
Of course he wasn't a very pretty sight. Sloppily drunk, he was snoring in his chair, oblivious of what was going on around him. Snoring with his mouth handing open, he didn't look like he could be stirred with a stick of dynamite.
Neither Lori nor I were discouraged, though. We knew that what we had in our arsenal was more powerful than any TNT.
My sister went first, leading with her cunt. She squashed it right across Rick's face as she straddled his head with her thighs.
"Mmmmmmm," he stirred in his sleep. Down below his cock was swelling under his fly.
Lori rubbed her cunt some more. Its lips were sliding sensuously over the lips of Rick's mouth. Hot, fresh pussy juice must have been gushing down his throat.
"Ooooohhhh," he groaned in increasingly agitated slumber. His cock was getting so big now that its pink flesh was oozing out of the four holes dotting the straining crotch of his pants.
Getting in on some of the action, I grabbed one of my husband's inert hands and shoved it between my legs. His fingers weren't limp inside my spasming gash for long.
"Are you getting any signs of life down there, Sis?" Lori asked.
"Yesssss," I moaned from a miniature orgasm. "He's finger-fucking me to save his life. And his cock is about ready to bust out of his pants."
"Who gets to ball him first?"
"You're the guest," I said. "You go ahead."
"No, tonight, I'm the wife and you're the guest," Lori corrected me.
We both laughed at the confusion we had brought upon ourselves.
"From what I've heard tonight I've been getting a lot more action as Lori than you have as Ruth," I finally settled the issue, "so why don't you take first crack."
"That's fair," Lori agreed with my proposition. "If I had to watch you two making it without getting some myself first, my cunt might fall off."
"I'll just curl up on the sofa and watch the fun," I purred, and retreated to my perch.
Backing off from Rick's face, Lori turned her attention to the pulsing lump between his legs. Not even bothering with his zipper, she stuck her fingers into the holes we'd burned like she was picking up a bowling ball, and ripped the front of his trousers and shorts away from his loins.
Immediately she broke out laughing.
"Jesus Christ," she roared, "is this all the bigger his cock is? To think I've been driving myself crazy because I couldn't have this pitiful popgun."
She was right. Even in a state of rock-hardened erection, Rick's prick wasn't much. Tommy's had actually been longer, even if it wasn't quite as thick as his father's.
However, I still felt defensive about Lori's sarcasm. After all, Rick was still my husband. I felt obligated to stand up for him.
"If you stop talking and stick it in your cunt, maybe Rick's cock will surprise you," I snapped. "Don't knock it until you've tried it."
Anger flashed across my twin's face. "I was hoping a week as me would knock some of that middle-class shit out of you," Lori hissed. "But I see when the chips are down the loyal little wife in you comes right out in the open."
"Fuck him, and if you don't like it, then put us down," I issued my reckless dare. Certainly I had no rational reason to believe that a child's toy like Rick's prick would be able to satisfy my worldly sister.
"You've got yourself a bargain, my uptight twin," Lori took the bait I was an impulsive fool for offering. "Just keep your eyes wide open, Ruthie."
She sat on his lap, facing him. From the rear I could see Rick's hard-on filling the space between her open thighs. Lori reached down, made a quick adjustment, and he was penetrating her cunt. They w were fucking.
This, of course, was the very act that had been haunting me with its probability all week. By my past record, now that it was finally happening I should have been hysterical.
However, seeing my husband and sister fuck in the flesh instead of in my imagination had an entirely different effect on me than I had anticipated. Rather than being furious at Rick, I was rooting for him to perform with my twin better than he ever had with me.
Lori had been pushing me around my whole life. Now if Rick only had it in him to put her in her place for me.
"Oh, Jesus, what's happening?" he awoke.
"You're getting fucked, Ricky," Lori taunted him.
He looked up in her face. Even after focusing his eyes and blinking several times he still couldn't tell which one of us was on top of him.
"Ruthie?" he guessed.
"Try again," Lori teased.
"L ... Lori?"
"Could be," she said, "but I'll never tell. You just fuck each of us and decide which one is best. At the end we'll tell the name of the lucky owner. Our being identical twins will make it just like you being blindfolded."
The breezy way Lori was carrying on with Rick I knew she was treating this whole thing as a joke.
She obviously expected no satisfaction beyond a few laughs from an encounter with a six-inch cock.
"Come on, Rick, fuck her!" I implored him from across the room. "Find out which pussy is best. Don't let us down."
"Looks like my sister has a rooting interest in you," Lori observed. "I hope you won't let it influence your final decision in the sweepstakes."
I felt she was being unfair. "Come on ...." I stopped just short of calling her name. "Come on and help him. He's still so drunk he can't fuck you unless you start wiggling your ass."
"Why not," Lori laughed in the face of my fury, but there was a trace of self-consciousness around the edges. My militant stance was starting to show results.
She began rocking her ass. With satisfaction I could hear the wet sounds of Rick's hard-on working inside her cunt all the way across the room. She wasn't admitting it, but she was aroused enough by my husband's cock to have a damp twat.
"Come on, come on," I urged, "really fuck each other."
The cheeks of Lori's ass became a pink blur from the accelerating movement. Rick's tool was flashing up and down at the crux of the action like a piston.
"Harder! Harder!" I carried on. "Give it to her, Rick! Fuck her until she screams for more."
My exhortation had a miraculous power over him. Dissolving his drunkenness, it lifted him from the chair and impelled him to lift my sister in the air while he was still fucking her. I'd never seen him display such brute strength.
Squirming excitedly on the couch from the sight of the furious action, I realized that my pussy was smoldering. It was so wet there was already a big, greasy stain on the sofa. Incredibly, I was more turned on from watching my husband fucking another woman than I had ever been during the countless times he'd done it with me.
The way Rick was now possessing my sister he was like some sort of Greek god capable of complete dominance over mere mortals. She was like a toy in his strong hands as he held her in mid-air and moved her body back and forth.
He was no longer fucking her. He was raping her. "Make her scream!" I urged him. "Stick your cock in her so far she feels like you're ripping her in two."
"Yes, Rick," Lori gave in and groaned, "do what she says. Fuck me till it hurts!"
My gamble was working out. Even with his six-inch cock, Rick had come with an effort that was beginning to take my twin's breath away. Her skepticism was being rapidly transformed into panting appreciation.
Striding across the room, Rick slammed Lori up against a wall and kept her pinned there while he rammed away like a goring bull. The curved horn of his cock inside her cunt was making my sister wince and squeal with joy.
"Come, come, you bastard!" she cried.
"Not until you scream," I butted in.
"Yaaaarrrrgggghhh!" she shrieked.
"Give it to her, Rick," I gave my permission for the ejaculation.
He snorted like fire was coming out of his nostrils. Removing his hands from her torso, he kept Lori airborne in a wedge of his jack-hammering hard-on and the wall her skull was bouncing against.
"Oh God, I can feel it!" she squealed. "I can feel your cum inside my cunt! It's so hot I can't stand it!"
With wide-eyed interest, I watched the jizz flood from Lori's snatch and gush down the wall, puddling on the carpet. A paint job and a rug shampoo would be needed when things were back to normal.
I could no longer confine myself to the sofa. When Rick let my sister slide to the floor and his cock was still hard, I was there at his side fidgeting for my turn at bat.
"Don't forget about me," I said. "The experiment's not over yet."
"You said it," he leered. "And I know just the way I want it this time."
Reaching out with the flat of his hand, he pushed me backward until I fell into a chair. Then he grabbed my ankles and lifted my legs all the way over my head so my feet were hooked over the top of the backrest. I was jack-knifed, my cunt in the perfect position for the deepest penetration possible from a six-inch cock.
Rick's prick shot between my upraised thighs like a guided missile. He was within me to the balls on the first thrust. His prick felt almost twice as long to me as it ever had before.
"Oh God, fuck me, Rick!" I groaned. "You've never fucked me like this before!"
It took my careless remark a moment to register. But when it did, Rick did a classic double take.
"Ruth!" he gasped my name as though I were an alien from another planet. "Is it you I'm fucking?"
I had no choice but to acknowledge my true identity. "Yes, dear, it's me. Are you glad?"
"Glad?" he shook his head in wonderment. "Hell, I'm flabbergasted. We didn't screw like this even before we were married. What's got into you, Ruthie?"
"Your big, thick cock," I gave him the greatest compliment any woman can give a man. "Now keep fucking me with it until you fill my pussy with more cum than you've ever shot in your life."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lori took the kids, and I took Rick, as we divided up our explanation. Nancy and Tommy were immediately eager for some family frolicking with their gorgeous cousin and her boy friend. Rick was not so easy to convince.
"Don't you see, honey," I said, "group sex is the only way to bring the family closer together. This is our chance to make up for all the drifting apart we've been doing for years."
"It isn't right," he stubbornly insisted, actually covering his now-limp cock with a magazine.
It was clear that I had to play my ace in the hole. "Have you ever seen your niece in those skin-tight jeans she wears?" I asked Rick.
He nodded, unable to verbally respond because of a suddenly dry throat. He remembered Sandy in those tight jeans all right.
"Just imagine what she'd look like without them on," I twisted the needle in. "The kid is built like a brick shithouse."
I was getting to him so effectively that he turned away . ... but I could still see him licking his lips from the thought of his niece naked.
"She'd spread those long, tan legs so you could look right up her wet cunt," I laid it on thick. "Rick, you could stick your hard cock in her tight, tight pussy and fuck her until she screamed. Come in a fifteen-year-old girl's twat."
His dick sprang up like the blade of a knife. He was coming around for sure.
"How long has it been since you fucked a teenager, Rick?" I cooed. "I was the last one, wasn't I? That was over sixteen years ago, Rick. A long ... dry ... spell."
A glob of anticipatory cum popped at the end of his twitching cock. I licked it off and promised that his niece would do a lot more than that.
He was sold. Now all the four of us had to do was wait.
Thank God Sandy and Mickey arrived ahead of schedule. They must have driven like the wind to the suburbs.
I started to ask them where Franco was, when my black prince barked and bounded through the door. His cock was standing out like a pole under his hard-breathing belly.
While the hellos were being said, and Mickey Rice being introduced to those he didn't know, Tommy and Nancy were hurriedly undressing their cousin and her boy friend. Standing just a few feet from them, Rick's mouth watered as he watched Sandy's firm, young body become exposed.
"Wait a minute!" Mickey suddenly interrupted the proceedings. He was rapidly shifting his gaze back and forth between Lori and me. He must have thought he was seeing double. "Which one of you broads did I fuck Monday night?"
"You'll have to fuck each of us tonight and figure it out for yourself," Lori saucily challenged him. "In fact, you can start with me."
She went over to him, grabbed his now exposed hard-on, and shoved it into her cunt standing up. They were fucking almost immediately.
I'd already tested Mickey Rice, so if my sister craved him now that was all right with me. Besides, I couldn't stop sneaking peeks at Franco's monstrous boner. He was the highlight of my stolen week as Lori.
However, if I thought I was going to be left alone to fuck the Doberman in peace, I was sadly mistaken. My two kids were so anxious to get in on the unusual action that they practically fell over themselves rushing to my side.
I was kneeling like a bitch in heat by this time, my slobbering cunt poking from the rear between my spread flanks. In that position it was easy for Tommy to slip beneath me and catch his slender hard-on right between my tits.
Nancy made herself busy getting Franco ready for the charge. Peering back between my legs I could see her gently sucking his cock, lubricating it with spit for the plunge inside her mother's dripping pussy.
Now she removed the throbbing animal tool from her mouth and began guiding it between my legs. In a moment the fist-like cockhead was pressing against my labia.
A quick snap of my daughter's wrist and Franco was in me. "Fuck me ... fuck me," I automatically began to moan.
With a chorus of barks, the Doberman crammed his huge cock further and further inside my twat. Finally I could feel his fuzzy ball scratching against my pussy lips. He was fucking me to the hilt.
In the meantime, Nancy had scooted around to my front. There she sat with her sweet-smelling crotch in my face, resting between her tit-fucking brother's outstretched legs. Pressing her muscular thighs against my head, she drew my mouth into her snatch like she had a powerful magnet between her legs and my lips were metal.
It was my first taste of my daughter's pussy. Intoxicating! Oh God, what sweet, sweet, sweetness! ness!
My tongue instantly hardened and surged up her tight fuck-hole. The deeper I penetrated, the more succulent Nancy's cunt became.
Beneath me, my son competed with his sister for my attention. He was rubbing his stiff dick faster and faster between my compressed tits, treating the tight crease in the mammary flesh just like a twat. Fucking it, fucking it, fucking it.
And let's not forget about good old Franco. The big, black Doberman was pole-axing me with his massive hard-on. My cunt was stretched to the point where my guts were squashed.
Then there were the others.
Rick was brutally fucking his niece only a few feet away. Sandy was screaming, "It hurts ... hurts soooo gooood!" She was so turned on that she didn't even realize her uncle's prick was only six inches long.
Lori and Mickey were bucking and writhing right next to Rick and Sandy. The four of them looked like they were working out in an overcrowded gym.
Nancy's mouth was free so she called out to one of the other couples to switch positions so they could join the chain she and her brother and Franco and I had started. "Come on," my daughter snapped impatiently, "somebody give up a cock out of their cunt so I can do some serious sucking."
Lori was the first to react. She stopped balling Mickey and personally delivered his monstrous tool to her niece's waiting mouth, as Nancy flopped her torso over on its side. "Mmmmmm," my daughter slurped, swallowing several inches of hard cock at once.
Now it was my sister's turn to become the next link in the incredible chain. Sitting on Mickey's face, she ground her funky cunt against his mouth. "Tongue-fuck me," she directed, and from the immediate smile on her face compliance was instantaneous.
"Okay, you two lovebirds," Lori called to Rick and Sandy. "It's time to share your kicks with the rest of us. I need something wet and throbbing for my mouth to play with."
Sandy giggled and pulled away from Rick. He didn't want to stop fucking such an exceptional piece of teenage nookie, of course, but her playfulness wouldn't allow her to resist linking up with such a spectacular daisy-chain.
Walking to her mother, Sandy slammed her cunt into Lori's eagerly awaiting face. The splat of pussy lips against oral lips filled the room with its smacking wetness.
Seeing that he was going to be left out if he didn't complete the chain, Rick scrambled to his feet, having trouble with his balance because half his blood-supply was trapped in his hard-on. Staggering to Sandy's rear, he ripped open the cheeks of her ass and peered in at her youthfully pink anus. He was quickly drooling.
Rick had suddenly decided that interrupting his fucking for a daisy-chain was a great idea. After all, how often is a tired businessman in his thirties presented with the perfect young asshole of a teenage girl to fuck?
My husband quickly worked his phallic knob into Sandy's shit-pit and began thrusting his loins.
"Oooommmphh ... ooommmmppphh!" he grunted as he blasted every inch he had up her perfect rectum.
The linkage had been completed. The chain was intact.
Six people. And a dog. Fucking and sucking as one.
It started with the Doberman. Franco's canine dick in my cunt. Plunging and withdrawing ... in and out ... back and forth.
Next were my tits. My son knew just how to handle the hanging jugs. He was pressing them tighter and tighter all the time, creating so much friction with his pumping hard-on that my chest felt charred from sparks.
My tongue was sore from so much deep probing in my daughter's tight cunt. Her pussy was constantly spasming. God, I loved the oral ache.
Mickey was pinned on the floor, his cock invisible inside Nancy's mouth, and his face obscured by the hairy wetness of Lori's crotch.
Lori eagerly ate her daughter's cunt. She'd done it so many times before that she knew how to get her lips and teeth inside the perimeter of Sandy's labia and actually gnash at the inner walls.
Rick was the last link, and maybe he had the best time. His niece's tight teenage ass must have killed his cock with frictional joy.
We girls were already coming, of course, our four bodies pulsing with continuous orgasms. Pretty soon it was hard for me to tell if they were my spasms I felt or somebody else's.
Before long it made no difference. When Lori or Nancy or Sandy climaxed, it was the same as if I were doing it on my own.
Cum. The cum. Where is the cum?
Being the youngest, and presumably the fastest on the trigger, my twelve-year-old Tommy was the first to shoot his wad. His slender prick plunged between my tits and then suddenly exploded.
Reaching down, I grabbed a handful of my son's dripping boy-juice and smeared it all over my breasts. God, it felt like hot bacon grease when I rubbed it into my ultra-sensitive nipples.
At the far end of the chain, Rick was snorting like a dragon, practically breathing fire. He couldn't have held out much longer.
Sensing her uncle was about to blow, Sandy began violently wiggling her ass. Rick's prick was being whipsawed inside.
"Arrrrggghhh!" he bellowed, and the rest of us could actually hear the hiss of escaping liquid. Sandy must have felt like she had a fire hose crammed up her butt.
Even though I didn't have a direct view of my niece, I could precisely envision what was happening between her legs. Rick's cum was welling to the rim of her anus and was starting to trickle out. Soon the trickle was a flood and the white goo rolled down the backs of her thighs.
Sandy wasn't sucking anything so she made her feelings known while her uncle scalded her with his spunk. "Mmmmm, can it taste as good as it feels?" she wondered aloud, reaching back with her fingers and ferrying a big blob of fresh jizz from her ass to her mouth.
"Better than I thought," she slurped. "Uncle Rick, I take back what I've always thought about you. You ain't no square."
All of a sudden our attention was turned to Mickey. The rock drummer was beating a tattoo on the floorboards with his pounding hips. The music of his loins was ready to reach a crescendo.
My daughter Nancy knew it better than anyone, and was deep-throating him all the way down to his balls. To up the ante, she squeezed Mickey's nuts with one hand, and slid the index finger of the other up the sweaty crack of his ass. Then she was inside him, anally finger-fucking him, angling for his prostate.
He gasped like a polio victim just snatched from his iron lung. The pressure inside his groin must have been excruciating.
"Go ahead and come, you bastard!" Sandy cried at her boyfriend. "Fill my cousin's mouth with your hot, sticky cum!"
"Nnnngggghhhh," he gurgled between clenched teeth and does the number.
My daughter's cheeks swelled and swelled until they resembled pink balloons stuck to the side of her face. Mickey's jism must have rushed from his cock at an incredible rate.
Nancy's mouth burst open and abruptly cum flew everywhere. She tossed her head around so the drops splashed on all of us.
So, here we were. Only Franco was left with an unspent hard-on. By design or luck-I couldn't honestly decide which-I'd saved the last for best. Mmmmmm, hot dog-cum in my cunt, I reveled in my anticipation of it.
The big Doberman sensed he was the center of attention and was enough of a show-off to take his time. I didn't mind-I could stand being fucked by that strong, dog-tool all night long. Good things come to those who wait.
The others were getting impatient, though. After all, my husband and children had never seen a woman fucked by a dog before, let alone their respective wife and mother-and Mickey was acting like it was first for him, too. They wanted action. Ultimate action.
But Franco would not be hurried. They say every dog has his day, and he was having his.
The daisy chain came apart as its participants crowded in a circle around the Doberman and me.
Then Rick got the Polaroid and started taking pictures of the big, black canine cock coursing in and out of my pussy. When the first one developed, it was passed around to the excitement of the group.
Inside my twat I could feel the animal's boner heating up rapidly from the incredible friction. When Franco finally shot his wad I hoped my husband snapped a good shot of the dob-jizz pouring from my snatch. It would be the perfect souvenir of this fantastic evening.
"I'm going nuts waiting around like this," Lori fidgeted. "What are you and Franco playing, Ruth, some kind of game?"
"Nothing you can't join in on, sister dear," I verbally tweaked her. "He's your dog. Why don't you get down on your knees and suck his balls if you want him to come faster."
"I sure as hell will," she stamped her foot. Immediately she was kneeling, stuffing her pet's nuts into her mouth like she was starving to death. You can bet Rick got a picture of that.
"Now the rest of you," I urged, "don't stand around doing nothing. You girls start fingering your clits, and you guys beat your meat. By the time Franco is ready to shoot his wad you'll all be ready to come again. We'll flood the room with pussy juice and cum."
An orgy of masturbation immediately began. Fortunately Rick put down the camera so he wouldn't get jizz all over the lens.
Franco and I were surrounded by the six of them. Three pussies and three hard-ons being agitated by their owners toward certain cream. Even Lori, hard at work mouthing the Doberman's balls, diddled her snatch.
I waited until everyone was red in the face. Breathing so hard it seared their lungs. On the brink of mass orgasm.
"Now, Franco, now!" I shrieked at the marathon-fucking dog. But of course I was really giving all the others the climactic signal, too.
The beast on my back yelped with the ecstasy of imminent sexual release. His claws dug into my flesh like daggers and opened up the old wounds from the same source that had been healing since Tuesday. When the blood started to flow, I knew it was just the beginning of the liquid outpouring that was going to swamp the living room.
"Thatta boy, Franco, thatta boy!" I encouraged the Doberman to finally let go with all he had.
The dog bayed. The long wait was over. His cock was exploding at last in my cum-thirsty cunt.
"I can feel it, I can feel it!" I informed the others. "Now let me feel you. Spread your cum all over me!"
The three human cocks erupted at once. I was soaked by the jets of sperm. It shot all over my face ... my hair ... my shoulders ... dripped down to my breasts.
Then Lori got on my back and rode me with her oozing gash as her saddle. My claw-wounds were quickly healed with the soothing froth of her orgasmic cream.
Nancy, my daughter, sat on my face, and spewed the hot gunk from her teenage cunt down my throat. Sandy, my niece, slid beneath me and crammed her gushing snatch against my tits.
When I was good and sloppy, I broke away from all of them. Retreating to a corner, I propped myself up and rubbed the wondrous scum of their loins into every pore of my naked body. Everybody else thought I'd flipped out, but I knew what I was doing.
What a luxurious feeling it was to bathe myself in liquid essence of their affection for me. I felt like the richest woman in the world. Rich in the only thing that really means a damn in this old world.
Love!
Boredom and dissatisfaction would never rule my life again. Not with so much love around.
