After its initial steep climb, the airliner leveled off to a more comfortable angle of ascent. As the passengers shifted about in their seats, the voice of the head-stewardess came over the public address system.
"Good afternoon Ladies and Gentlemen and welcome aboard Atlantic Airways Flight 609 from Boston to Miami, with intermediate stops at La Guardia Airport in New York and Washington National Airport. Our estimated time of arrival in New York is 6:45 and there will be a twenty minute layover before continuing on to our nation's capital. Our pilot on this flight is Captain James Ross, co-pilot William Daniels, and navigator Roger Manning. Our stewardesses are Marcia Hyer and Wendy Malone. This is your head-stewardess Denise Bennett speaking. Please obey the no-smoking sign until it is turned off and please keep your seatbelts fastened throughout the flight. On behalf of our captain and crew thank you for flying Atlantic, and we hope you have a pleasant flight."
Elizabeth Reynolds unfastened her seatbelt and crossed her long legs. She did not like feeling restrained, and she was in no mood to compromise her comfort. A businessman across the aisle eyed her meaningfully, but she did not feel like flirting. She had a decision to make. In less than an hour she would be back with her family, and she had to know how to act. She was coming home to a strange and tense situation.
As she sat on the plane she remembered how it all started. It had been one of the first cool days of the previous autumn. She was to leave home the next day to begin college in Boston. All the preparations were made. It was her last Sunday at home and there was nothing to do but sit back, relax, and enjoy it.
She got up and went downstairs for some orange juice. The house was empty. Her mother and sister were at church, no doubt. There was a note on the hall table from her brother saying that he was down the street playing football with friends. She could hear her father working out in his shop.
When she got back to her room she tossed off her robe and crawled back into bed. She just wanted to lay back and soak it all in. She thought about the night before when she'd said goodbye to her boyfriend Timmy. They had balled in his bedroom for hours while his parents were out wife-swapping with friends. He upset her by worrying that they would stain the sheets on his bed and his father and mother would find out. What a child he is, thought' Elizabeth. I know what I want from college, she thought; I want men who like to ball and don't care who knows it; men who can last longer than Timmy; men who can fuck me all night.
These thoughts made the heat rise between her legs. She was glad she was alone in the house. She threw off the covers and sat up in bed, her knees spread, her ankles up close to her crotch, her hands deep in her own pubic hair. With two fingers of one hand she stroked the twin soft lips of her pussy while the other hand strayed through the black growth.
She was an attractive eighteen-year-old with a tall, slim body and a model's figure. Her legs were long and straight and clean shaven. Her hips were slim and her waist small, with the flesh across her stomach taut and smooth. She had had to give up her fashion modeling aspirations, however, because her breasts were too large for the body of our modern mannequins. She had considered posing nude for a photographer, but as long as she lived with her parents the repercussions would have been terrible. Still she hadn't give up the idea entirely, and she liked to fantasize about posing without clothes while masturbating.
She thought of that now. She pictured a photographer's studio. She saw herself spread out before a camera, stretching her naked body in front of a man she didn't know; standing, kneeling, crawling, writhing around about on a bed, a couch, a chair, a floor, where-ever he wanted, doing whatever he asked, teasing and touching herself, thrusting her lips, her tits, her ass, her cunt, each and every private part of her out at the camera, and loving it because she knew that behind that cold, objective eye were a million men with warm hands and hot cocks.
This was her favorite fantasy and it always made her come, especially if there was time to finish it. First she would bring the photographer out from his aloof position and into the scene with her. Next, she'd bring his throbbing erection out of his pants and into her hands. Then she would taste his moist and straining shaft, feel it kiss her hungry cunt-lips and lick the searing walls of her tortured vulva like a tongue of flame.
She did that now. She stroked and rubbed and fingered herself hotly until the studio was blotted out behind the blinding smoke of orgasm as was everything everywhere but the gut-wrenching pleasure of it. Elizabeth opened her eyes and saw the fluids of her vagina boiling up from her lurching loins and flooding off her lap and onto the sheet beneath her, spreading out in a dark and widening circle of wetness.
She came and came and came and then it was done, and she sank down on her pillow in exhausted satisfaction. As she drifted off into peaceful oblivion, there was a noise on the stairs, and for one frozen moment she realized she had forgotten to lock her door. Before she could react there was a knock and her father came into the room.
"Time to get up Liz," he said, the words dropping meaninglessly from his mouth as he realized what she had been doing.
Liz clutched desperately for the covers in a vain attempt to conceal her nakedness.
"Oh! Okay Dad," she said hurriedly. "I'm getting up now."
"Wait just a minute, young lady," her father commanded. "Just what the hell's going on here?"
He walked right over to the side of the bed. Liz was trying to pretend that nothing unusual had happened.
"What? I, uh, don't understand," she said.
She didn't know what was going to happen. She had never been caught before. For all she knew she was about to receive a beating.
"You know goddamn well what I mean so stop play-acting!"
The resolve in his voice finally convinced her to give up. All she wanted now was to hide her nudity. She covered herself as best she could with the blankets, but one full pink breast was still exposed and she knew it.
"Please Daddy," she pleaded. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Please don't hurt me."
He stared at her silently. She was trembling with fear; he could see that. He wanted to yell and scream but something was caught in his throat, preventing him. He could not take his eyes from that one pink breast. It stood out indecently over the edge of the white sheet, staring at him, daring him. It looked so young, so sweet, like a soft cone of creamy flesh. He found himself sitting on the side of the bed.
"I'm not going to hit you, honey," he said in a throaty whisper. "I'm not going to hurt you at all."
As Liz stared at him in wide-eyed astonishment, her father leaned over and took that one soft, round breast in his mouth. He sucked in the nipple. His tongue wound sensuously around its tender point.
Before Liz knew what was happening her tits had hardened with wild excitement and were thrusting themselves obscenely into her father's face.
"Oh, yes Daddy! Do it!" she near-screamed. "Lick them all over!"
She seized him around the head with both hands and pressed his face fiercely against her. The feeling of gratification was gone. She was hot for him and she wanted it!
With one hand he threw back the blankets and sheet covering her, exposing her young and sculptured body to his lustful gaze. From the corner of his eye he could see the snowy expanse of her flat stomach. It lay there like a field in winter, untouched and virginal, and at the field's edge there stood the forest of her pubic hair; its lush thickness promising warmth and shelter.
Liz watched her father's mouth devouring her jutting breasts. His eyes were closed now and he seemed to have abandoned himself on her tits. He held one in each hand as his tongue swept back and forth against them, dividing its attention equally between each heaving, hardening globe. She was driven to erotic distraction by his hands and mouth. She felt wonderfully lewd. Her vaginal muscles clenched involuntarily. Her hands strayed wildly about his head and shoulders. She was in awe of his strength and power.
He held one firm, rubbery breast in his hand while he attacked the other with his lips and tongue. He licked it, pinched it with his lips, even bit it with his teeth in the excitement of his growing frenzy. He withdrew his mouth slowly, lingeringly, and then attacked again, sucking the fleshy nipple swiftly into his oral chamber with a force that made her cry out.
"OOOOOOOOhhhhhhhh!!!!!" she screamed. "Yes, yes, yes. Do it. Oh, please do it!"
The sound of his daughter's pleading cry spurred him on. He seized one full rich breast in each of his strong hands and crushed them ferociously against his face. He wrenched them back and forth as though he were trying to tear them from her body. Liz let go of him and held on to both sides of the bed. She tried to muffle the violent moans of desire rising in her throat. A thunder of pain and pleasure rolled through her, shaking her with a power she could not control.
"Oh! ... Uh! .. . Urh! . . . Urh!" she cried out, howling and grunting with each wonderful, soul-wracking jolt.
She grabbed at his shirt and tore it from his body, exposing his naked chest to her frantic hands. She caressed him; her fingers wandered everywhere. She grasped the rippling muscles of his straining back and hugged him to her in a feverish embrace. She spread her lovely legs as he moved on the bed.
He climbed on top of his daughter.
He released her ravaged breasts and threw his arms around her. He pulled her face to him and kissed her lips. He drove his tongue into her mouth. He slid it around and around in her oral cavity, tasting her saliva as it welled up and dribbled out the side of her mouth and down her chin. He slid it across her teeth and shoved it down her throat as far as it would go. She gagged. He withdrew and then kissed her again, spearing it deep as before, driving moaning sobs of want from the bottom of her belly.
He forced her legs wide apart and climbed between them. He yanked her body down flat on the bed and crushed against her. The front of his trousers was stained dark by the juices of her running cunt. She reached around behind him and grasped his strong ass-cheeks. They dry-humped each other. The coarse fabric of his trousers rubbed back and forth across her sensitive snatch as he drove her again and again down into the bed.
With each bone-crushing lunge she bounced back, meeting him in mid-air and jabbing her swollen clitoris against his zipper. Each jab sent lightning bolts of nerve-shattering pleasure through nether-regions until her whole crotch seemed to crackle with electric sparks from her clit to the tiny wrinkled orifice in her ass.
They kept it up until Martin Reynolds could stand it no longer. He felt himself being consumed by a fire of lust like he had never known before. Not once since he had come into his daughter's room had the possible consequences of his actions entered his mind. All he knew was that he had to fuck this luscious, willing girl.
He reached down to unbuckle his trousers. He felt her arm; her hand was at the fly of his pants. His body seemed to ignite into a single flame of desire.
"You really want it don't you, you little slut?" He spat the words out in a sadistic snarl.
"Yes! Oh, yes! Yes! Yes!" she moaned. "Do it to me Daddy!"
He pinned her arms above her head with one hand and tugged his zipper down with the other. His prick had grown into a massive erection and he had to wrestle it out of his pants. He rammed it into the bubbling cauldron of her cunt.
"UUUUUUUhhhhhhh!!!" she cried, and real tears poured out of her beautiful blue eyes and rolled down her red-flushed cheeks.
"Yes, you like that, don't you? You love it, don't you?" he said. His voice was as hard as the dick with which he stabbed her. He dragged his weapon slowly out of her tiny sheath and charged again, shoving its full seven-inch length into the base of her body. She screamed again.
"OOOOhhhh! Ahhhh!"
The feeling was incredible. With each plunge the need in her body shorted out, and with each withdrawal of his rod the friction seemed to re-magnetize her. She thought she was on the verge of total electrocution. She could not stop moaning; with each jolt the sounds flew out of her throat as a new wave of energy swept over her.
He slowed his fucking, drawing his big blunt cock all the way out of her cunt until the hard, round head touched against the vibrant stalk of her clitoris, and then jamming his log back into her as deep as it would go, twisting it against the tough back wall of her vaginal passage.
Her arms were still pinned above her head. She was helpless and vulnerable, and she loved it. Liz felt she never wanted this sensational fucking to stop. This can't be a one-time thing, she thought. I can't go away tomorrow and give all this up!
Her father began to hump faster. He wanted to bang her as hard as he could and he knew now that she could take it.
"I'm going to fuck you now," he said harshly. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll never stop coming."
He looked down into her beautiful face. Her eyes were closed as she responded to his hump-thrusts.
"Go ahead!" she said breathlessly. "I love it. I love you!"
He released her arms and took her face in his hands. He kissed her mouth lovingly. Their tongues met and caressed. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him back, her open lips tugging on his long tongue.
He pumped against her and she heaved in response. He forced his blood-hardened meat into her deepest recesses and she tried to swallow it down. There was a hunger in her belly. She wanted to kill and she needed his prick to do it. The gaping mouth of her cunt bit down on him each time he slammed into her.
He fucked her harder and harder and faster and faster and she fucked him back just as fast and as hard.
He clutched at her in desperation. She dragged her fingernails across his back and down to his ass, leaving long lines of red welts from the back of his neck to the crack in his buttocks. She grabbed one half-moon in each hand and held on.
Rocking madly, they came together.
He sank his searing sex tool to the bottom of her ravished vagina and held it there while he sprayed her with his steaming sperm. When she felt her uterus drenched by his boiling seed, she went into spasms of her own. She was consumed in a white-hot orgasm that melted her insides till they flowed out of her cunt and down onto her father's cock.
Martin let out a long groan of relief and collapsed on his daughter's body. They did not separate. They continued to hold each other, their two forms a chaos of arms and legs on the rumpled bed. His prick was still buried deep in Liz's hole. Slowly their breathing resumed a normal rhythm.
Liz reached one hand down to feel. Her fingers slid over her legs and loins, well lubricated by the flood of vaginal oil which had gushed out of her. She felt her father's cock where it disappeared into the well of her cunt. It's so thick, she thought. How did he get it into me? She gripped the shaft between her fingers and raised herself against it. The organ sank even deeper into her. She loved the feeling of fullness it gave her as she lay there motionless and impaled.
She felt the top edge of his prick grating against her rock-hard clit and his cock-head resting firmly against the mouth of her uterus.
Finally he raised his head off her shoulder and looked into her eyes. They were round and blue and they shone with the glow of satisfaction. He thought, except for that glow they are the eyes of her mother.
"Honey," he said.
"Yes Daddy."
"You have to promise me something," he hesitated. "Okay," she said happily. "What?" He looked at her closely. He had to fight to get the words out.
"You have to promise me you won't tell your mother about this." The minute he said it he knew he shouldn't have. Those big beautiful blue eyes blinked, and instantly their shine was clouded over with hurt. In seconds a rain of tears was falling down her cheeks.
"Now honey," he started.
"No!" she cried. "No! Leave me alone! Leave me alone!" She tried to push him off, to fight him off, but he was too strong, too heavy.
"Let me explain," he said, raising his voice.
"No! No! No! No! No! No!"
She struck at him wildly, but he pinned her arms to the bed and held them there.
"I don't understand," he said desperately. "What's the matter with you?"
She collapsed on the bed in surrender, her body wracked by broken sobs.
"All you ever think about is her," she cried bitterly. "You don't care about me. You don't love me."
He took her face in his hands and kissed her.
"I do love you," he said firmly. "Didn't I just prove that?"
She blinked at him with wet eyes. His face was only inches from hers. She reached up and kissed him lightly on the lips. Suddenly he realized he had stayed too long, that he had better get downstairs before his wife came home. But I can't leave her like this, he thought.
Their mouths met and twisted together. He brushed her damp hair out of her face. Her lips and tongue tasted salty from the tears.
Martin got up and stood beside the bed. He zipped up his pants and rolled the remnants of his shirt into a ball of cloth. He looked down at his daughter and smiled. She lay stretched out on the bed, naked and enjoying it as he stared at her body. He knew he should leave but he couldn't take his eyes off her. She gazed back at him, her eyes full of love and happiness.
"You do promise, don't you?" he asked quietly.
"Yes Daddy, if that's what you want," she said. "I promise."
"Promise what!" a voice said.
It was June Reynolds. Martin's wife stood in the doorway, her face registering astonishment, outrage, shock. She stormed in and slammed the door behind her. Martin turned away paralyzed with shame. Liz tried frantically to cover herself with the sheet, but her mother ripped it from her hands and threw it off the bed. She stared down at the nude girl in disbelief.
"You little whore!" she screamed. "You little monster!"
She threw herself at her daughter. Liz buried her head under the pillow to protect herself, but it did little good. June yanked at the pillow but could not get it away.
"I'll teach you, you slut!"
She pinned her to the bed by straddling her legs. She hiked up her own dress, exposing a set of white, fleshy thighs, and began to spank Liz on her small round bottom. Sharp thwacks echoed through the house as she slapped the soft skin again and again. Within minutes her daughter's ass was raw and tender.
Martin Reynolds stared at the floor in humiliation. He knew he had been wrong. Liz did not deserve the beating she was receiving. It had all been his fault. He must stop this.
"That's enough," he said quietly.
His wife did not hear him. She went on slapping and spanking. The white skin had turned a painful red under her incensed attack.
"I said that's enough!" he shouted.
And that was that. Her rage spent, June ran crying from the room. Liz was sent off to school the next day. Her parents were legally separated within a month.
"Please buckle your seat belt, Miss."
Roused from her memories Liz looked around quickly to orient herself. She was on the plane heading home. A stewardess stood beside her, a gleaming smile pasted on her perfectly made-up face. Her hand rested warmly on Liz's arm.
"Oh. I'm sorry. I need to use the ladies' room."
"Of course," the young woman said. "It is in the rear of the aircraft." She gave Liz's arm a slightly too-friendly squeeze and smiled again. "Need any help?" She asked the question more with her eyes than her mouth.
"Not just now," Liz said, returning the other's smile. "But maybe some other time."
"Okay," the other said, her smile growing even wider.
Liz went to the rear of the plane and locked herself in the washroom. That stew was cute, she thought, but right now I feel like being alone. She lifted her long denim skirt over her waist and slid her silk panties down to her knees. This prevented her from spreading her legs wide, but the cabin was too cramped for that anyway. She could not stand this way, so she sat on the edge of the toilet seat. With her arm she held her skirt up and out of the way while her hand held a paper towel between her legs. The other hand forced itself between her tightly clenched thighs.
She felt the clean smooth skin of her legs and the clump of damp hair between them. The hardness of the washroom, the edge of the seat, the metal washbasin and the flat bulkhead walls contrasted nicely with the softness of her love-nest. She passed her finger inside and felt the edges of her cunt-lips and her fleshy vagina with its curved, wet walls.
She explored slowly, quietly, tracing imaginary lines all around her genitals. First one, then a second, and finally a third finger entered her moistening cunt.. She began to squirm and twist on the toilet, hunching her shoulders forward, jutting her breasts and stomach in and out involuntarily, dancing to the primitive rhythms.
Silently and steadily she caressed her own clit until it throbbed with life. She was brimming with heat. A few more quick jabs with her fingers and she climaxed. The juice ran between her fingers and out of her slippery cunt. It ran down her legs where it was soaked up by the towel. She stood and wiped herself dry with a fresh one. She straightened her clothes and checked her make-up in the mirror. Suddenly she realized she had forgotten her pocket book. She hurried back to her seat. Her purse was still there, a cow-skin bag with a sewn-in Indian design.
She relaxed in her seat. Her mind was clear now. I always think better after I've come, she thought. She checked the bag to see if everything was there. Wallet, checkbook, make-up, coke-spoon; it all seemed in order. She noticed a piece of paper. It read: Denise Bennett. 400 East 75th St. New York. 789-6969. There was a postscript: Call me, anytime.
Liz smiled to herself and put the note into her wallet. This will have to wait, she thought. There's something I have to do first.
She buckled her seat belt and got ready to land.
Chapter Two
"Liz," June Reynolds said. "Barbara usually does the dishes, but she has a date tonight. You'll do them for her, won't you?"
"Of course," Liz said, returning her mother's level look.
"That's okay, I can do them," Barbara said.
"Aren't you going out with Carl tonight?" her mother asked.
"Oh, sure," the young redhead answered. "But he won't be here for at least an hour." She ignored her mother's stare and looked at her sister. "I'll help you, okay?"
"Fine," Liz said.
June rose from the dinner table. "Very well, if you must," she said. "I'm seeing Mr. Aldrich tonight. Be home on time."
"Okay Mom," Barbara said smiling.
With that their mother left the dining room and went upstairs to dress. The two girls cleared the table in silence. In the kitchen Barbara closed the door and helped her sister rinse the plates and put them in the dishwasher.
"We finally got rid of her," she giggled. "I've never seen her like that."
"It's for my benefit, and I don't think we've seen the last of it either."
"She's still mad at you about Daddy," Barbara said.
"I figured she would be, but I didn't think it would be this bad," Liz said frowning. "Christ! She didn't say anything all night."
"I know," Barbara said.
"And you aren't much better," Liz continued.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean going out my first night back from school."
"Oh, that," Barbara sighed, relieved. "She never lets me go out usually. She arranged this with Larry Aldrich because she doesn't want me home with you."
"Unhealthy influence," Liz said, comprehending.
"That's right," Barbara giggled. "I think she's afraid you'll seduce me the way you did Daddy."
"Maybe I will," Liz said, going along with the joke. She reached over and kissed her younger sister on the side of the mouth. The girl looked at her in silence for a moment, then smiled.
"If she only knew, it wouldn't matter," she whispered confidingly.
"What do you mean?" Liz said.
"I mean Arthur. We've been going together six months. You don't think we've been holding hands all that time, do you?"
Liz hugged her sister. "It's wonderful, isn't it?"
"Oh, wow," Barbara sighed. "It's better than anything."
They went back to the dishes. Liz watched her from the corner of her eye. "Where is Arthur?" she asked.
"He's away for the summer," the younger sister said quietly. "Now Mom is trying to fix me up with Carl. A whole family package."
"What do you mean?"
"Carl's last name is Aldrich. He's Larry Aldrich's son. Mom's been dating Larry for months."
"Sounds like a soap opera," Liz chuckled.
"You haven't heard it all," Barbara went on. "Larry has a daughter named Holly. She's fifteen and she's going steady with our little brother."
"You're kidding!" Liz said. "Little Bobby's got a girlfriend?"
"He sure does. And she's a real looker too."
The two girls laughed together.
"You know," Liz said. "It sounds like this whole situation has real possibilities."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, I don't know," Liz said absently. "I mean Mother and Larry and you and Carl and Bobby and Holly."
"It is kind of strange," Barbara agreed.
"I think it's great," Liz said. "I'll bet they live next door, too."
"No, down the street," Barbara said.
"Oh, wow," Liz said. "Anyway, what's this Carl like?"
"He's good-looking," her sister confided. "Just graduated from high school so he's a year older than me. He says he's going to Harvard next year."
"That's good," Liz said. "If you don't mind I'll have him all to myself next year up in Boston."
"The only thing wrong is that he's a little forward," Barbara continued. "He's been trying to ball me ever since we met."
"So he has good taste," Liz said smiling. "What's wrong with that?"
Barbara beamed at the obvious compliment from her beautiful sister. "Artie didn't like it," she said.
"But Artie is gone, isn't he?" Liz said, giving her a look.
"That's true." The idea played across the features of Barbara's pretty face. Liz could see at a glance the situation her sister was in. She'd been in it herself, not so long ago-young and sexy and ready and everyone telling you not to. As long as Liz was around, the girl wouldn't have to go it alone. She deserved the benefit of her experience. Hadn't she stood by Liz during the separation of their parents? Hadn't she refused, unlike the rest of the family, to ostracize her for what she'd done with her father? Hadn't she been the only one to write her at school all year? Liz was not about to let her parents fuck up her life, too. And who knows, thought Liz, maybe Barbara and I can straighten the whole thing out together.
The dishwasher started, Liz rinsed her hands and dried them on a paper towel. "Lord I need a bath," she said. "I feel filthy."
"Mind if I jump in first?" Barbara asked. "I have to get ready for Carl."
"No, no, help yourself. I'll go bother Bobby for awhile."
"Thanks," Barbara said.
Liz went looking for Bobby. Her hands were still damp and she dried them on her jeans as she entered the T.V. room. Bobby looked up from the book he was reading as she came in. He saw her rubbing her hands back and forth on her shapely thighs. His prick stiffened instantly. He tried to conceal his arousal by shifting awkwardly in his chair, but it was impossible. There was a big bulge in his pants.
"Hiya handsome," Liz said. "What are you doing?"
"Oh, nothing," he said. "Just sitting here reading my homework." "What subject?"
"Sex education," he admitted, looking away. He tried to move the book in his lap to cover his erection.
Liz noticed and smiled. She sat next to him on the edge of the chair and gently took the book away. He looked at her in surprise.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
Liz reached out and placed one hand on the bulge between his legs. His pants were warm with the heat of his swollen organ. She squeezed it.
"I want you to know one thing," she whispered. "I want you to know I think you're one of the cutest boys I've ever seen, and if you want to ball me I'd love you to."
Her brother's face was red with heat and embarrassment. He opened his lips several times but no words came out.
"Well. . ." he uttered finally.
"Sh!" Liz said quietly. "I know you're surprised by all this. I am too. After all, I am nineteen and you're only fifteen, but I think that's cool." She was still cupping his aching meat in her hand. "Don't decide now," she continued. "I know this is all too sudden." She looked deep into his frightened eyes. "I'll come to your room later, okay?"
With a supreme effort Bobby agreed. She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the mouth, then she stood and walked out of the room.
Bobby could not relax all night. Right after Liz went upstairs, he switched on the television. He pretended to be absorbed in it when his mother and Barbara came in to say they were leaving. He left it on for two hours, but in all that time he really saw very little of it. He kept thinking about Liz's body; about her beautiful black hair and her face. Especially her face. He thought about her hands, too, how long and slender her fingers were and how long her red fingernails were too. They were hard and sharp and formed an exciting contrast with the soft skin of her hands. He remembered that hand on his crotch; how warm and exciting yet peaceful it had felt.
He looked around suddenly. Liz had not come down for hours. He knew no one else was home. It seemed safe. He pulled his impatient prick out of his jeans and frigged himself until the hot white stuff frothed off his bright red shaft and all over his gripping hand. It felt sticky between his fingers. He hiked up his fly with his other hand and went up the stairs to the bathroom.
After he had washed his hands he went to his room. When he opened the door he saw Liz sitting on his bed. She was looking through one of the girlie magazines he kept hidden in the closet. She was naked, and he thought she looked better than any of the girls in the pictures.
"What are you doing in here?" he asked, startled.
Liz looked at him calmly and turned the page. She held the magazine out to him. He looked at it. There was a two-page spread of a saucy blonde with a yellow bush between her legs.
"I bet that's your favorite, right?" she asked.
"I . . . uh. You shouldn't be in here," he said, raising his voice. She was driving him crazy.
"It won't do you any good to yell, you know," she said sweetly. "There isn't anyone home but you and me, and besides I was just leaving anyway."
She got up and walked past him to the door. As she did she let the tip of her breast brush his shoulder. She saw him look away involuntarily. He wanted to reach out and grab her but something restrained him. He knew he shouldn't. He knew it was wrong. At the door she turned and spoke to him again.
"Oh, by the way, don't forget I'll be back later."
He did not answer her. He had no idea what to say. When she was gone he closed the door and, his shyness in firm control, decided the best thing was to pretend nothing had happened and go to bed.
When Liz looked in on him an hour later the room was dark. So, she thought, he's going to play games . . . all right, I can play games too.
She closed the door to his room silently and breathlessly slipped off her robe. She was nude underneath. She carefully pulled back the sheet that covered her brother's body. The sight made her catch her breath. She had always thought he was a cute kid, but she had never looked at him as a man before, and he looked good. His shoulders were muscular. His tits looked tender and tasty. His chest and stomach glistened with perspiration in the hot room.
She pulled the sheet back farther. He wore only pa-jama bottoms. In the darkness she could barely make out the excited bulge in the cloth. So he is only pretending to be asleep, thought Liz. All right, if that is what he wants....
She sat lightly on the edge of the bed. She reached over and opened the fly of his pajamas. She touched the flesh inside; it was warm and moist. She twisted her fingers in the hair. She slid her hand all the way into his clothes and cupped his sack. She squeezed gently. Bobby stirred as if in his sleep. Liz smiled to herself; this was a lewd little game they played, and it excited her.
She crossed her legs, rubbing her warm thighs together. Her cunt was running. She ran her hand all over his balls. Then it was his cock in her hand. She thought she would faint with pleasure as the soft member in her grip sprang to life. It stiffened in a second.
Liz leaned over and took the head of his cock in her mouth. She slid her tongue over the hard crown. She plunged her head all the way down, mouthing him to the balls, then pressed her lips together and drew back. She heard him moan, and she would have answered, but she was too busy, too happy to care.
She held his prick with both hands, running her tongue up and down the shaft, moaning and sighing. She went crazy. She didn't care how he responded, whether he was delighted or disgusted with her forwardness; she had to have it now, and if he would not give it to her, she would have to rape him! His thick young dick tasted good in her mouth.
She bobbed her head up and down and his tool went in and out of her open mouth.
His crotch was soaked with her saliva. Drool dripped down the dick. She ran her hands all over his wet groin as she sucked and sucked. She kept forcing her head down hard, trying to take as much of him into her mouth as she could. She could not get enough!
She threw the sheet completely off the bed and lay between his legs, sucking and sighing. She pulled his pajamas down and off. Now he was as naked as she.
Suddenly she realized that two hands were on her head, holding her down. She looked up into her brother's face without letting his prick slip from her mouth. His eyes were closed, his tongue was licking his open lips.
She smiled to herself when she saw this evidence of his pleasure, and as she did, her teeth touched his hard tool. He moaned sharply. Liz felt a thrilling flush through her body and she sensed his pain. For a few moments she twisted her warm tongue around his stiff prick and licked it up and down. Then, without warning, she deliberately grazed the soft skin with her sharp teeth. His whole body jerked on the bed, but he didn't pull himself away; he still allowed her to hold his staff deep in her mouth. With her soft tongue she soothed the hurt organ.
She began to pump his prick again. She was happy to have hurt him, and happier that he had seemed to enjoy it. The shock had brought him down from the point of orgasm which he had been nearing. Now he was ready for a real fuck.
She looked up into his face again. His eyes were open and staring back at her. He realized that this was no wet dream, that his beautiful older sister was really sucking him off! His mouth watered at the thought. She watched his lips and tongue. She wanted his mouth, so after one long, last agonizing suck that sent shivers of heat down her spine, she climbed up next to him on the bed and kissed him. Their mouths met.
Under his soft lips she could feel his hard teeth. She clutched his hard cock in her hand and jammed it up between her thighs, clamping her legs together. She ran her nails up and across his chest to his throat and threw her arms around his neck.
"Open your lips, darling," she whispered.
She flattened herself against him, squirming and moaning. She sucked his tongue into her mouth and held it. He gave out a long moan and kissed her back. They frenched and humped. His hands ran up and down her velvet back. He clutched at her soft round ass; that ass he had seen for years wiggling sexily around the house; that ass she used to stick out at him, to tease him. How he had wanted it! Now, after all this time he would have it! It was all his!
His cock stayed hard as he jabbed it back and forth between her thighs. It excited her more and more as it rubbed on the outside of her slit. She raked his shoulders with her sharp nails. She pulled his hair as she kissed him. She licked his lips. She hung off his tongue and grinded against him. She drove him wild.
She was afraid he would come between her legs if she continued so she twisted him around beneath her. Then, holding his head to the pillow by the hair, she licked his face, his mouth, his eyes, nose, cheeks, she licked it all. She found his mouth once again and their tongues twisted together. She balanced herself with one hand on his chest and straddled him as she grabbed for his precious prick. She plowed it up and down her soaked snatch, then plunged it deep inside her vagina. She pinned the boy down by his shoulders and began to pump. He was way up there. All the way up. She pumped harder. She was crazy for it. Rocking wildly, she looked down into his eyes.
"Come on, baby brother, fuck me," she panted, "fuck me good."
As she worked over him, Bobby reached up and grasped the full round tits of his sister. They were huge to him. They aroused him. He mauled them. She loved it.
"Oh, yes, beautiful. TAKE THEM. Tear them right off!" she screamed. "I want you to make me come. Please make me come. Oh, please," she pleaded. She needed it. Her excitement was so great she could no longer wait for relief. She would not have to; the boy was also too excited to last long.
Bobby held a breast in each hand. He tugged and squeezed while Liz ground her groin down on him. At the pinnacle of his pleasure, he grew even larger inside her until his mushrooming member touched her off, and she cried out with dam breaking lust and flooded his crotch with her come-juice. The older girl, frozen in the power of her orgasm, gripped her brother's hips between her legs, shivering, and held herself down with all her strength as he heaved below her. Then his spasms began. She locked herself down and sucked up all his warm young jism as he came into the mouth of her cunt.
When it was over she kissed him deeply, lovingly, and sat back. She slowly moved her hips over him to keep him hard. Her fingers strayed here and there across his hairless chest.
They were drenched. The heat of the night and the heat of their fucking made the sweat run down their bodies and soak the sheet. Bobby looked up at his sister. Perspiration from her shapely shoulders dripped down between her heaving breasts.
"You are so beautiful," he said breathlessly, "so beautiful."
"And you," she answered matter-of-factly, "are a very attractive young boy."
"I'm not a boy any more though, am 1?" he asked, grinning.
She smiled sexily. "You are to me. A very pretty boy, and I like to fuck with very pretty boys."
"You can fuck with me anytime."
"I intend to," she said, and leaned forward to kiss him again. Their kiss was long and lingering. He held her down by her shoulders and let his mouth be explored by her long tongue. It excited him to be kissed this way, and she could feel his strong young cock turn rock-hard within her. Finally she leaned back.
"But I'm not just any pretty boy, am I?" he asked.
"No, you're not."
"Why? Who am I?" he questioned, pushing her to the edge of the truth, to the point after which she could never deny what he was. She looked deep into his eyes as she uttered the words.
"You're my brother."
This time it was he who kissed her, and kissed her with an emotion she could not resist. They began to heave and pump, slowly at first, preparing for another fuck. Liz, delighted, broke away from his mouth.
"It appears I've made quite a little man of you, haven't I?" she said. "And you haven't even got hair on your chest yet."
He nodded absently. He was no longer listening to her. He was growing hotter and hotter. "There are so many things I want to do with you," he said.
"I know. Why don't we do them?" She threw her head back and rocked rhythmically, each hand pinching a nipple on his chest.
They climbed higher and higher towards a second orgasm, but it was going to be a slow climb this time, and that made it all the more delicious. Liz knew they could get hot again and ride this way without worrying about coming for a while, so she sat back and enjoyed it. A vague intoxication enveloped them. Their eyes closed as if in a trance. Moments seemed like hours. Humping this way, exciting each other slowly, they both felt as if they could go on forever.
Suddenly Liz blinked her eyes open in response to Bobby's shudder of surprise. The bedroom door was open, and by the light in the hall, Liz could see her sister Barbara standing in the doorway, staring at them, her face a mask of incredulousness. The fucking couple stopped their motions.
For a few moments no one spoke or moved. Liz was surprised to find herself strangely aroused by their being discovered. She sank deeper than ever on her brother's shaft. He responded by thrusting even higher into her lush vagina. They both looked at the intruding girl and waited for her to speak. Barbara came over to the side of the bed. She stared down at the writhing couple.
"I heard noises . . . I . .. what are you doing?" She saw her sister's eyes swimming with pleasure.
"What does it look like I'm doing," Liz answered calmly. "I'm balling with Bobby."
The older girl looked down at the boy. She ran her tongue lasciviously across her lips. She leaned down and kissed him on the mouth, twisted her body this way and that, dragged her hanging breasts back and forth across his naked chest. The touch of her tits thrilled him and he heaved strongly. With a sharp moan Liz sat up straight to absorb his thrust.
She reached out and grasped her sister's arm. She yanked firmly, but straddled as she was over Bobby's hips, she could not succeed in pulling her sister onto the bed. She settled for seizing both of the girl's firm young breasts.
Barbara was too surprised to react. Bobby looked on in amusement as the sister he was fucking began to caress the tits of his other sister. As if to reward Liz for her boldness Bobby fucked her hole harder than ever. He sank his tool again and again into the cunt of the wild young woman.
Liz had never enjoyed herself so much. Between her legs she had a strong prick and in each hand she held a firm breast through Barbara's party dress.
She ignored Bobby for the moment and turned all her attention to the flabbergasted young girl. Before Barbara could defend herself Liz pushed her loose-fitting Mexican peasant dress up over her bust and exposed her from the neck down. Liz's and Bobby's eyes were riveted to the sight. Neither of them had ever seen their sister entirely naked before. Her legs were smooth and clean as two pillars of white stone, and where they met there was a thick forest of red hair, exactly the same color as the hair on top of her head. Her hips were wider and rounder than Liz's, with a shape that suggested strength and sensuousness, and her breasts were full and smooth and topped with large brown nipples.
Liz twisted about on her brother's body and leaned over the side of the bed. She embraced Barbara and drew one large tit into her mouth. Her tongue slid around the fleshy point in ever widening circles as she sucked the gland deeper and deeper.
Barbara began to come to her wits. As her mind fo- cused on the scene, she finally realized what was happening to her and she began to struggle to escape. She did not try hard enough, however, and Liz, her arms around her sister's chest, her hands clenched behind the girl's back, was able to hold her easily. She went on sucking. Finally she released one nipple and glided her tongue across to the other tit. She almost swallowed it. Barbara screamed, crying out as pain shot through her body. It was a pain so violent that it brought her completely back to reality.
She put her hands on Liz's head to try to push it away from her tortured breast, to get that sucking mouth off her body.
It was then that Liz released her. At first Barbara thought this was a reprieve and began to utter breathless thanks, but then she realized it was only a change of tactics. Liz ran one hand down across Barbara's stomach and plunged all five fingers into the growth of her pubic hair.
Barbara stopped her struggle. A wave of sheer pleasure broke over her, and she soon felt herself being tossed about by an irresistable power. Liz discovered her sister's pussy damp with sweat and liquid proof of arousal. As she attacked her clitoris, touched and rubbed the bundle of joy-flesh, the girl's cunt went from damp to wet. Soon there was love-juice running sticky between the older girl's fingers.
For Liz this excitement was too great. She felt herself being drawn towards climax. She surrendered herself to it. She jammed the boy's prick faster than ever in and out of her steaming quim. Bobby groaned. Liz ran one hand over his straining chest and tweaked his nipples. Barbara, caught up now, reached out for that hand and grabbed it. She brought it to her cunt. Now she frigged herself with both of Liz's hands. She hunched her hips forward, trying to draw her sister's fingers as far as possible into her heaving snatch.
She kept jerking her belly backward and forward, as if in some mad primitive dance. Her clit turned hard as flint within her. It was as if matches were being struck between her legs again and again. At each ignition a fresh flame flew through her body, from her hot crotch to the roots of her hair. As she twisted her head around, her bright red hair seemed to flicker with heat. She felt as if she were being burned alive; that she was a torch of sex that only the waters of orgasm could extinguish.
Now something occurred which she had not expected. Liz wrenched her hands free of Barbara's grasp and turned all her attention to her young brother. It was as if Barbara had ceased to exist. She looked on, the heat of dissatisfaction searing the inside of her thighs as her brother and sister went back to fucking each other.
Liz stopped kissing so she could concentrate on the feeling of his cock in her cunt. It was glorious. Their second orgasm, unlike the first, did not strike them like a lightning bolt but came slowly, as if from a great distance, rumbling towards them like a wave of thunder, until it was upon them, and their bodies shook to the giant crashing around their ears. Afterwards they lay crouched together for a long while, their bodies drenched as after a summer downpour.
Then Liz sat up and looked at her sister. Her eyes were glassy. "Kiss me," she said thickly, "let me kiss you."
"No. Never. Not ever." Barbara's voice shook with emotion but her resolve was firm. When Liz attempted to seize her again Barbara turned and fled from the room. She ran to her bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Once in her own bed she began to calm down, but one part of her was still excited. With her hand she touched her sex spot. The pleasure returned. For a moment she thought she might go back to Bobby's room. But with an angry toss of her head she made up her mind. To hell with them. She would satisfy herself. In a few minutes it was over.
But it was a long time before Barbara could get to sleep. For what seemed like hours she listened to her brother and sister down the hall. It was laughter, and often a cry of pleasure.
Chapter Three
Liz opened her eyes. She felt marvelous. She could hear someone in the bathroom down the hall; other than that the house was quiet.
She climbed out of bed and lazily stretched her slim frame towards the ceiling. She gave herself a quick rub-down to waken her drowsy muscles. A well-fucked feeling consumed her. With good reason, she thought to herself. She had had five orgasms with Bobby the night before and only gotten back to her room minutes before her mother returned from her date.
Not that Liz was afraid of her mother. Far from it. She just did not want to ruin a good thing. She smiled. She knew the good thing was going to get a lot better. Barbara had come very close to the edge last night. Liz reasoned that all she needed now was a little push.
At that moment her younger sister came into the room. Liz turned to greet her. When Barbara saw her sister's smiling mouth she lowered her eyes. Two emotions swept through her simultaneously; one was revulsion, the other, arousal.
"Well, if it isn't the foolish virgin. Good morning," Liz laughed.
Barbara stopped in front of her mirror. She did not look up. "What do you mean?" she asked timidly.
Liz could see that she was trembling. She went over and stood behind her sister. They both looked at Barbara's face in the mirror.
"Barbara, I'm sorry about last night," she said qui- etly. "I wasn't trying to make you do anything you don't want to do. You know how much I love you." She moved forward and pressed herself lightly against the soft bottom of the younger girl.
"And I love you, too, Liz. It's just that it's ... so wrong."
"No it's not," the older girl replied. "It's not wrong at all. You'll find out that doing what you want is not wrong, so long as you don't hurt anybody else. And who did I hurt? Bobby? He's crazy about it. You?"
Her sister said nothing.
"I didn't hurt you," Liz continued. "You know I would never do anything to hurt you. Even if I were to make love to you right now it wouldn't hurt you in the least. In fact, I'm sure you'd love it."
Barbara still said nothing.
"Let me tell you something," Liz went on. "There is a girlfriend of mine at school. She's been making it with her brother for almost five years, and she's one of the sweetest, most wonderful people I've ever met. There's nothing wrong with her. And if you told her she shouldn't ball her brother she'd laugh in your face."
"But even so," Barbara said, still facing the mirror, "Those things you did to me ... I mean, I'm your sister!"
"We're sisters, yes, but we're people first," Liz maintained. "And people should love each other, shouldn't they?"
She put her arms around her sister's waist and pressed her bare cunt firmly against the ass-swell of her robe.
"I guess so," Barbara said. "I don't know. I guess I'm just confused by everything."
"Don't be confused," Liz said softly. "Be happy. I can make you happy." She brushed the long waves of Barbara's red hair to one side of the girl's head and kissed her lightly on the back of the neck. Her sister shuddered but did not resist. Liz kissed her again. Waves of trembling emotion went through her like ripples in a pool of uncertainty.
"Turn around."
Barbara obeyed. Staring fixedly into her eyes, holding them hypnotically, Liz slipped the girl's robe off her shoulders.
"Kiss me," she ordered.
The girl leaned forward and kissed her on the side of her mouth.
"Kiss my mouth."
Before she had a chance to think or refuse, Liz took her sister's face in her hands and kissed her lips. For a full minute the two young women stood face to face, mouth to mouth. Then the younger girl threw her arms around her sister's neck and thrust her tongue deep into Liz's open mouth.
Liz kissed her back fiercely. Their tongues wound together, and their arms wound around their bodies. Barbara tangled Liz's thick hair in her moving hands, twisting and turning the strands between and around her excited fingers. Liz wrapped her arms around Barbara's waist and crushed against her. Their two naked female bodies became one. From head to toe they were inseparable. Their tits were crushed into a cushion of flesh between them. They traded tongues back and forth. But Liz was not going to be satisfied with a kiss; it was a very special kind of kiss she wanted-a cunt-kiss.
Finally their mouths slid apart. They stood panting in each other's arms. Liz wondered if this was the right moment.
"Mother is at work, isn't she?" she whispered in her sister's ear.
"Yes, and Bobby's at school." Barbara was speechless. The words came out with difficulty. Liz smiled to herself; the little bitch was hot all right. She put her mouth to her sister's ear and tongued it. Barbara exploded in a massive groan and twisted violently in her arms.
"Fuck me, Liz. Oh, please fuck me," she pleaded. "I don't care how you do it, just do it!"
Liz felt her own cheeks flush with pride. She had seduced her own sister!
She led the passionate girl to her bed and quickly drew her down. They kissed again, their hands wandering all over each other's bodies. Both vaginas were damp and growing wetter by the instant. Liz rolled her over and humped silently against her. She pinned the younger girl beneath her and tongued the other ear. Barbara bucked ferociously. She can be a real wild woman, Liz thought.
They rolled around on the bed. The pillows and then the sheets were thrown to the floor until there was nothing on the mattress but the two luscious, loving sisters.
Liz maneuvered so that she was between Barbara's outstretched legs. She embraced her hips from the front, dragging her tongue back and forth across her soft stomach. She allowed her tongue to dally in her sister's naval. She licked around and around, and in a series of swift kisses, she brought her mouth to the edge of her hairy cunt.
A long; low sigh issued from Barbara's lips as Liz tangled her face in the thick, sweet growth. The odor was exhilarating. An intoxication seemed to fill Liz's head as her nose and mouth stroked through the pubic garden. The skin was a soft soil in which grew rare and fragrant flowers.
Her tongue searched out and found the tiny, almost virgin slit. With her fingers she spread the hairs apart. She slid her tongue up and down the outer lips. They were thick and soft and red as raw meat. Liz felt rise within her the fierce, different kind of desire she always felt when contemplating fucking another woman. And this was no old lesbian she was sucking off; this was Barbara, her own sweet, fresh little darling of a sister. The idea sent a pulse of heat through her veins; she would teach her beautiful pupil everything she had ever learned about sapphism. She wondered right now what the redhead was thinking.
In all her wildest masturbatory fantasies Barbara had never imagined that she could receive such pleasure from the touch of a woman. There had been that day in summer camp when she was thirteen; the counselor named Betty who was eighteen had taken her for a hike alone in the woods, asked her about boys and then pulled her down behind some bushes. She said she wanted to show Barbara how to make out, but Barbara had been so frightened she couldn't really pay attention. When it was over she hadn't even kissed her; she just pulled on her shorts and walked off without a word, leaving Barbara to follow her back to camp. Barbara had wondered about that encounter for years.
Now she thought that if Betty had done what Liz was doing now, she would have liked it more, instead of all that business with her fingers. One thing was certain: Barbara liked being kissed between the legs very much. She closed her legs around Liz's head and held it tight between them.
Liz's hands strayed aimlessly across her sister's stomach as her tongue ran up and down Barbara's steaming snatch. She could feel her own vaginal walls throbbing with arousal as she swallowed mouthfuls of the girl's come. She reached up and clutched at her large, swollen breasts. She squeezed their softness, pinched the hard-pointed nipples.
The whole scene made this girl the most desirable thing in the world. The empty house, their private room, the certainty that no one would be home for hours, the passionate willingness of the horny girl, the fact that they were sisters-all these things made Barbara the most tempting dish of cunt Liz had ever eaten.
She went crazy on the pussy before her. She sucked, she licked, she plowed up and down, back and forth with her tongue. She bit, she gnawed at the flesh, and when she knew that the girl could stand it no longer, she brought her to orgasm. She vibrated her tongue frantically on the slippery little sex stick of her clit until her sister flew up in the air in wrenching bounds, and her pipes flushed down a gallon of come.
When it was finished Barbara relaxed with a shudder. She let out a long sigh of relief. Liz was exhausted, too, even though she hadn't come. She wanted an orgasm but decided not to ask for one. She wanted Barbara to want to do it. She moved up on the bed next to her sister and kissed her lips quickly. Barbara blushed. Liz ignored this artificial modesty.
"I don't know what I'm going to do with you," she scolded. "I've been trying to get out of bed all morning and you're no help at all."
Barbara laughed.
"I don't know what's funny about it. Now, I'm going to take a bath and don't try to stop me. Is that clear?"
"Okay," Barbara grinned, "I'll be good. I promise."
With a nod Liz jumped out of bed and went down the hall to the bathroom. She looked in the mirror. Her hair was a jungle and her mouth and chin were still sticky with sap. She was pleased with the look in her eyes, though, which glowed with a feverish kind of satiety. She did not feel like masturbating; she would later if she could not convince Barbara to go down on her. It really doesn't matter though, she thought, there's always Bobby.
She took a warm shower. Her muscles ached sweetly. Then she ran a hot bath and settled down for a good soak. She sat in the steaming tub while the water seeped deep inside her and soothed the walls of her sore vagina.
In the other room Barbara lay exhausted. She floated on a cool pond of afterglow. The morning sun beamed through the bedroom window, warming her radiant face. A smile lit her lips. With one hand she touched her quiet quim, bouncing her fingers lightly on the cushion of curly hair. She stroked serenely and steadily. With the other hand she touched her swollen breasts. The fact that they were her own did not ^remove their power to excite her. The simple act of feeling breasts beneath her fingers was enough to please her. Before this morning Barbara had enjoyed having her tits felt, now she enjoyed feeling them just as much.
Her hand went deeper between her legs. She wondered about the scent. One finger slid into the slimy ditch of her cunt. She brought it to her nose to smell it, then impetuously, she sucked her finger into her mouth. She tasted her own come. The flavor was raw and sweet. She liked it. No wonder Liz had enjoyed kissing me there, she thought, it's delicious! Like nothing I've ever tasted! Strange, but nice!
She wondered if all girls tasted as good.
She decided to find out right now. In a moment she was out of bed and running out of the room. When she got to the bathroom, Liz was sitting in the tub drying her fingernails. Her wet hair was wrapped up on her head in a towel. Barbara walked over smiling and sat on the edge of the bathtub. Liz frowned at her.
"I waited too long to polish my nails and now the water is getting cold," she said.
"Let me dry you," Barbara said, jumping up to fetch a towel.
Liz looked at her sister with surprise. She stood up carefully and let the water run out of the tub as the younger girl came back with a large, soft towel. Her face was bright and flushed with excitement. She was still naked and Liz found herself growing quickly aroused as the nude girl rubbed her body with the warm cloth.
Barbara dwelled on the older girl's breasts for some time. She used both hands; one on each globe, she slowly caressed them through the towel. Liz unconsciously thrust out her chest. Barbara grinned and lowered the towel. She leaned forward and kissed her sis- ter's tits. The sudden coolness of the air after the bath and the effect of her younger sister's mouth made Liz's nipples stick out straight.
Barbara was happy and horny. She turned Liz around and dried her back. She rubbed lovingly, fascinated by the smooth texture of her flesh. As she rubbed lower she got down on her knees. She kissed Liz's bottom. Her hands held her hips as her face pressed against the cheeks of her ass. Barbara felt as if she must be dreaming. A fresh, clean scent filled the air as she nudged her nose and mouth between the cheeks.
Liz stood perfectly still, basking in the warm light of this attention. She knew she was not going to be able to wait for Bobby. She couldn't wait to get back to bed!
When Barbara had dried all of her body but her pussy, she led Liz back to the bedroom. The older girl, her fingernails still wet with polish, walked with her arms extended, helpless. Barbara held her around the waist and pressed against her warm skin.
In the bedroom Barbara made Liz lay down on her back and sat beside her on the bed. She touched her temptingly.
"You know what I'm going to do?" she asked.
"No, what?" Liz replied, gazing dreamily into the large brown eyes of the redhead.
"First I'm going to dry your cunt, then I'm going to make it wet all over again."
"Mmmmmm," Liz said, "That sounds awfully nice."
Barbara bent low over her sister and kissed her lips. The older girl felt her face surrounded by Barbara's long, fallen hair. They kissed in their own world, separated from everything by this thick curtain of feminin- ity. Their tongues tickled and probed, twisted and turned in their mouths like keys struggling to unlock the doors of love.
Barbara lay down on the bed. She embraced Liz hotly. Their cunts were open, gaping mouths thirsty for a drink of the other's water.
Maddened by Barbara's teasing tongue, Liz held her sister's face in her hands. She crushed her mouth against the other's open lips. Barbara ran her hands all over the straining body of the older girl, touching her everywhere, feeling the firmness of her flesh, tapping the ecstasy locked within each ounce of womanhood.
The redhead moved down slowly, kissing her throat and neck, her narrow shoulders, her thinly veiled collarbones. She reached her tits and mouthed them in swift sucks.
She held in her hands two pale pink breasts like a pair of peaches just bursting with ripeness, begging to be eaten. With each love-bite they grew even more scrumptuous.
The older girl spread her legs wide and drew Barbara between them. She positioned the girl so that her stomach pressed down hard on Liz's crotch. Then Liz heaved and bucked, pushing herself rhythmically against the redhead's firm belly. She felt the large breasts of the younger girl bounce against her abdomen with every shove. They changed positions. Liz rolled Barbara over and straddled her. Now her boobs hung down in the redhead's face. She bent low and smothered the girl in her mammaries. Barbara could see nothing, taste nothing but the swollen breasts of her sister. She used both hands and her mouth. She sucked and pulled as if she were milking a cow. Liz swooned.
She collapsed in a heap upon the other girl; Barbara went on tonguing. Her lips and tongue glided downward-cuntward. She was almost mad with anticipation. It seemed like it took forever to reach her sister's naval. She licked it clean. She moved further down. She kissed the lower belly that sagged ever so slightly over her.
When she felt the first pubic hairs touch her chin, she thought she would go crazy. She hurried down. Liz felt the mouth between her legs and snapped back to reality. She got up on her knees. Barbara was down there, all right-eating her cuntl She began by sliding her tongue up and down the full length of her sister's slit. She paused for a moment to savour the taste. It was like a presentiment: she knew she would love this flavor for the rest of her life. At the same time she found herself mildly surprised at her ability to accept so easily the fact of her own bisex-uality.
But Barbara was not as intellectual as Liz; she was not about to let her own contemplations distract her from lovemaking.
She tongued back as far as she could, noticing as she did so that the flavor there changed from sour to bitter. The significance of this fact did not occur to her, unaware as she was that she had strayed her tongue into her sister's anus. She felt around for the backend of the cunt-slit, where the lips rejoined, and began to nibble there. Then she slowly moved her lips up the gap; as she did so she drank down the juices that dripped into her open mouth. She swallowed greedily, sucking down the hot soup of sex as easily as her own saliva.
She tried to dry the hole with her tongue, but when she did so it only got wetter. The hair was a dark bush and it tickled her nose. It was wet, too.
"The clit... oh ... do my clit," Liz moaned.
Barbara obliged. She reached up behind the kneeling girl and, gripping her buttocks, pressed her crotch down fiercely on her own face. She forced the flesh open with her nose and lips and touched the hard little girl-prick with her tongue.
She flicked it rapidly; not hard, but fast and at a constant pace. It was like frenchkissing with a tiny tongue. Liz spread her knees as wide as she could and jerked her hips up and down. Her body tried to flop around the bed, but Barbara held her fast. The pleasure was incredible. The brunette could not have held herself back even if she had wanted to. In a few minutes she reached a huge, lunging orgasm and shot her come all over her sister's face.
After what seemed like hours Liz woke from a dreamless sleep. Barbara was sitting on the edge of the bed, wiping her mouth with the sheet. She smiled and handed her a small tray piled high with toast and muffins.
"What's this?" Liz asked.
"Breakfast in bed for milady," Barbara said, grinning. She was dressed in jeans and a blue workshirt of which the top three buttons were undone, completely revealing one full, round breast, topped with a nipple like a brown nut.
"How long have I been asleep?"
"About an hour," Barbara said. "Just long enough for me to straighten things up around here. You just about destroyed my bed, you know."
"Me?" Liz laughed. "You didn't do so bad yourself."
"Well, at least I had an excuse," Barbara said. "And what was that?"
"It was my first time," she said matter-of-factly. "Everybody's allowed to go a little wild the first time, right?"
"Oh, I agree, absolutely," Liz said, smiling. "It was my first time too, in a while."
Barbara was suddenly serious. "What do you mean 'the first time in a while'?"
"I mean just that. This was the first time in a long time that I've been with another girl. Mind if I smoke?"
Liz got up and went to her dresser. She came back with a cellophane bag full of grass and some rolling papers. She sat down on the bed again and began to roll a joint.
"No, I don't mind," Barbara said haughtily. "Just because I've never been with a girl before doesn't mean I've never smoked." "Hey, what's the matter all of a sudden?" Liz asked, lighting up.
"Nothing."
The younger girl took the cigarette offered her and drew on it. Liz started to munch on a piece of toast. She thought she knew what was wrong.
"Come on now. Don't be silly. You want me to tell you about it?"
Barbara continued to smoke in silence.
"It was at college. You remember my roommate Cindy who dropped out just before Christmas? You remember I told you about her? Well, I didn't tell you everything. I didn't tell you the real reason she quit school. It was because her boyfriend found out she and I were making it. He was balling her too at the time. So one night he walks into her room and there I am sitting on her face. I mean she loved it. He would've killed her if I hadn't stopped him. He nearly beat the shit out of her. Then he starts telling everyone on campus that we're both lesbians. She couldn't take it and she quit." "But you stayed."
"Sure, I didn't care. The guys I went out with didn't care. In fact, most of them thought it was fantastic. A lot of the dumb guys thought I must be a nymphomaniac or something and tried to gangbang me, you know, the jocks, but the really cool guys understood."
"Did you miss her?"
"Of course I did; she was my first female lover, but I don't now." She leaned over and kissed Barbara on the mouth. For a few moments they touched tongues.
"Do you like me as much as her?" the redhead asked quietly.
"More. Much more, baby," Liz said. "You're prettier than her, and you're better in bed, too."
Barbara's face began to brighten.
"And on top of all that," Liz continued, "You're my sister, aren't you?"
Barbara nodded happily and they kissed again; harder and longer this time. Then they lay back on the bed as Liz struggled to get into her sister's blouse.
Chapter Four
Tuesday night Liz and Barbara and Bobby had supper alone. Their mother had called to explain she would be home late from work. The children took the opportunity to open one of her finest bottles of red wine, a '69 Pommard with a rich spirit and a bouquet that fairly oozed sensuality. By the time dinner ended they were all deliciously happy and looking forward to a long evening of fun.
"I wonder what she's up to tonight," Liz said. She sipped her wine and sat with a tipsy smirk on her flushed face.
"I know what it is," Barbara said.
"Oh?"
"The same tonight as every night, probably," Bobby said with a matter-of-fact nod.
Liz lit a cigarette and looked at her younger brother.
"And what's that, handsome?"
Bobby blushed and looked down at his plate. He was silent for a moment and then smiled and went on. "She's doing it with Larry," he said and hiccoughed.
They all three laughed and drank some more wine.
"What our crude little brother is trying to say is that Mom is involved with Mr. Aldrich in an affair of the flesh," Barbara said.
"I knew she was dating him," Liz said, "but I didn't know they were making it together."
"Oh yes," Barbara continued. "Every night, or almost every night, at the Clear Brook Motel across town. They've been at it for about three months. In fact he's the only man she's been out with since Daddy left."
"Hey," Liz interrupted. "How do you know all this? You didn't hire a private detective did you?" "No, but something almost as good," Bobby added. "What do you mean?"
"Arthur was the night desk clerk there all year," Barbara said.
"Your old boyfriend?" "That's right."
"How come Mother never found out?"
"Because," Barbara said, "Whenever they went there Larry would go in to register. Mom always stayed in the car, and Larry didn't know Arthur from a hole in the ground."
"Most people don't," Bobby said, laughing.
"You shut up about Arthur," Barbara said angrily.
"All right, come on now. Let's not have a fight." Liz wanted the peace kept. She had an idea in the back of her mind that was pretty exciting, and she did not want a family squabble to screw things up.
"As far as Arthur is concerned," she said to Barbara, "do you think Carl Aldrich can compare with him?"
The younger girl considered this with the mock seriousness of intoxication.
"Well, I don't know. I've never slept with Carl."
"What about last night?" Liz asked.
"You mean while you two were getting it on?" she said, looking at the both of them. Liz nodded and Bobby smiled widely.
"We really didn't get a chance," she said. "By the time I was in the mood he was so stoned he couldn't do anything at all. It was kind of disappointing."
"You sure didn't seem in the mood when you came home," Bobby said. He giggled and hiccoughed again.
Barbara was suddenly angry. "Why you little bastard!"
"Now hold on," Liz interrupted. "Barbara, keep quiet a minute. Bobby, you obviously don't know what's going on." She patted Barbara's hand. "Your sister here happens to be one of the hottest young things this side of the Rockies. Why just today when we were in bed together I told her-" "What?" Bobby said. "You two were making it today while I was at school?"
Liz nodded proudly.
"That's what you get for being fifteen," Barbara snorted.
"Wow!" Bobby said. "I wish I could have seen that!"
"Stick around," Liz said. "Maybe later we'll let you watch." She caressed her sister's arm lightly.
"What's wrong with right now?" Bobby asked.
Liz looked at her sister with questioning eyes. The other girl pretended to ponder the possibility.
"Come on," Liz said, taking Barbara by the arm. "Just thinking about it is making me hot."
They took another bottle of wine from the cabinet and went upstairs. In the girls' room Bobby pushed the beds together while Liz drew the curtains against prying eyes. Barbara went over to the stereo and picked out a few good dancing albums. Soon, arousing rock 'n' roll rhythms were pulsating through the room and through their bodies. It matched the tempo of then-own throbbing beings.
"Let's dance!" Barbara said. She began to move to the music, slowly at first, then faster and faster as the wine and the sounds clouded out the rest of her feelings. In a few minutes her inhibitions were gone, and as her brother and sister looked on smiling and applauding, she began to shed her clothes. Since it was a warm summer night there was not much to come off. First her loose-fitting denim shirt was peeled to reveal her lush, white tits. Then her skin-tight jeans came down and off and were thrown into a corner of the room. Her panties came next. In a moment they were off and she tossed them to Bobby, who put them to his face to taste their sweet girlish scent. Liz came over and tossled his hair in approval. She put her arms around him and kissed his neck. He reached up and stroked her between her thighs as they watched the show.
Barbara was nude now and really getting it on. She began to groove on her own body. Her hands roamed freely over her curves! The milky globes of her breasts, the dark red curls of her crotch, her creamy thighs and ass-nothing escaped her lewd caresses. She brought her hands up and they strayed through the thick scarlet mane on top of her head. Her fingers got lost in the fiery waves. She finished the song by taking the wine from Bobby and downing half the bottle in a single try. When the music was over she joined the other two on the bed.
"That was beautiful, darling," Liz said, kissing her. "You've got a real natural talent for stripping." "Thanks, but now it's your turn."
Liz got up and Barbara took her place on the bed. The older girl checked the next song on the record and took a hit from the bottle.
Bobby reached over and touched Barbara's hair. He had never seen her like this. She was acting like a different person, unlike the sister he had always known, and he knew he liked this one much more.
"Barbara," he said quietly, "You're so beautiful. So really beautiful."
She took his hand in hers and passed it over her body; down her neck to her shoulders and over her breasts. He caressed them with both hands. They were larger than Liz's and rounder too, and he was hypnotized by their huge pink and brown nipples. A circle of wrinkled flesh topped each tit like a halo, and in the center of each round spot was perched the soft knob of a nipple. He leaned over and touched them with his tongue. Barbara licked behind his ear as he kissed her.
"Come on, you two," Liz said as the music started again. "Are you going to watch or feel each other up?"
"Both!" Barbara laughed, looking up.
"That's better," Liz said. She started to dance. It was a slower song, more suited to her style, but the undeniable rhythm was there also. Soon she was as naked as her sister, with one important difference. Barbara, with her fresh country looks, always went barefoot whenever she could and looked better that way, but Liz was older and more womanly. She wore make-up while the other didn't, and she always dressed to flatter her figure. Therefore, when she stripped to the music, she left on her high platform shoes. She knew they accentuated her tall, slender frame and made her legs look even sleeker than they were. Barbara and Bobby agreed. A chorus of laughter and applause greeted the end of her act, and when she finished by walking around the room in a bare-ass parade, her hands over her head and her hips rotating sensuously, Bobby and Barbara forgot their own game for the moment and stared in rapt appreciation.
As she passed them they pulled her down on the bed. Their bodies became one laughing, confused mass. Lips met skin as the two younger children covered Liz's body with wet kisses. Liz loved it; she had two hungry mouths paying homage to her beauty and sexuality. She closed her eyes and surrendered herself to the pleasure of it. She traded tongues with her brother as his hands captured and caressed her aroused nipples. At the same time Barbara sent her moist lips across her sister's belly and down towards the furry center of her desire.
Wine and music took complete possession of them now as the horny teenagers bounced around the bed in their lust.
Barbara spread her sister's legs wide and buried her head between them. She wanted to taste again the bittersweet liquid that was already flowing from the luscious slit. All went dark for the younger girl as Liz closed her thighs over her head. She could hear only the pounding of her own pulse in her ears as it rose in echo to her increasing excitement. There was nothing in her world but that sound and the taste of Liz's cunt-fluid which flowed into her open mouth as she tongue-kissed the sticky quim.
Liz felt Barbara's tongue slip inside her. She was on fire again. She pulled away from Bobby's searching mouth suddenly and looked into his eyes.
"Want to see something wild?" she said.
The boy was ready for anything. He nodded.
"Watch this," she said and winked. She pushed him away and sat up on the bed. Barbara was down there sucking contentedly at her cunt. Liz unlocked her legs so she could move, then she maneuvered around so that she and her sister were on their sides, each facing the other's crotch.
Both girls were naked and horny and loved to suck wet cunts. Their lips and tongues kissed and mouthed the open vulvas opposite them.
Bobby sat back to enjoy the spectacle.
Barbara was very aroused as she tasted the soggy hole and felt her sister's tongue snaking into her own. The juices ran from her and into Liz's mouth and the older girl tried to suck up every drop.
Liz locked her legs over Barbara's head once more and the younger girl moaned in approval. Her arms were clasped tightly around her sister's hips in a passionate embrace. The older girl's hands roamed freely over Barbara's body. They played for a while with the ripe globes of her bosom, but these were flattened against her own body and she could not fully enjoy their size and shape. She reached into Barbara's cunt and gently separated the soft lips with her fingers. Buried deep between them was the clitoris, the tiny key to her sister's orgasm, and she searched for it, found it, and sucked it into her own lips.
Barbara groaned as Liz rolled the ball of flesh between her lips. A shudder of pleasure passed through her. She pulled her head out from between Liz's legs and gulped for breath.
"Oh, that's great! Oh, it's so good, Liz!" she panted.
Liz did not respond. She continued teasing the taut clit, nibbling the tidbit, licking up the sex-juice that was flowing. She flicked the rigid flesh lightly. With each touch a wave of excitement rushed through her younger sister; Liz could feel the trembling effect she was causing. She enjoyed that as much as her own pleasure. She liked turning chicks on, and Barbara was one dynamite chick. Liz could tell that her cute cunt was small and tight, that it would feel really good to a cock, and for a moment she found herself wishing she could have one so she could find out!
Bobby wished he could find out also, but the girls were enjoying themselves so much he did not dare interrupt them. But he was going wild watching his sisters suck each other off, and he didn't know how long he could stay out of it.
The younger girl had stopped eating Liz, and was lying on her back now with her legs up and her hands on Liz's face, holding her down into her pussy. Liz didn't mind. She could taste Barbara's sweet, running snatch-fluids. She wound her tongue way deep inside and drew it out slowly, giving the tough clit a final flick as she licked past it as she withdrew from her cunt.
"Don't stop!" Barbara said desperately.
Liz did as she said. She pinched the clit between her lips and vibrated her tongue against it quickly. She wound her arms around and between Barbara's legs and began to tickle her bottom with one hand.
Bobby sat forward in anticipation. He could see every move they made. He could see Liz's finger running up and down the crack in Barbara's ass. He watched her face pressed hard into her pubic hair. Both pairs of breasts heaved and sighed faster and faster. Liz was as aroused as Barbara and no one was even touching her. Bobby could see the juice running down between her legs.
He wanted to taste it. He could not wait any longer.
He moved down to the foot of the bed and grabbed Liz's legs. He forced them apart and shoved his head between them where they came together. The second his mouth touched her cunt she exploded.
Barbara cried out, and with each scream, heaved her cunt up harder than ever against Liz's mouth. The older girl whinnied with delight as her brother's tongue licked up the liquid that poured out of her like urine.
When the final shudders had passed away, Liz spun around and kissed Bobby full on the mouth.
"That was fan-tastic! You're a fantastic little cunt-sucker," she said joyfully. "Isn't he fantastic Barbara?"
The redhead lay curled up on the bed, pretending to be asleep.
"Why, you little bitch," Liz said. She attacked her, tickling her everywhere, especially between the legs.
"No! No! Stop, I'm awake!" Barbara screamed, jumping up from the bed.
"Well then stop playing Little-Miss-Satisfied. We're not satisfied, are we Bobby?"
"Hell no," Bobby said drunkenly.
"There's no reason to be so serious about it. We'll take care of you," she said. Barbara went over to the wine and brought it back to the bed.
"Oh, Bobby's never satisfied," Liz said. "I can vouch for that." She leaned over and kissed him again as Barbara drank from the bottle. Some of it dripped down her chin; she left it.
"Want some wine, Bobby?" she asked. Her brother nodded as Liz kissed him. Barbara took another swig but did not swallow it. She came over and pulled Liz away, then she kissed him with her mouth full of wine. When he opened his lips she opened hers and let the liquid flow out of her mouth into his. He swallowed it.
"Oh, wow!" he said. "What a wild feeling!"
"Let me try," said Liz. She took a mouthful and kissed him. He swallowed it again as it flowed out of her mouth. "Now do it to me," Liz said. He did. Then Barbara did. They both did it to Barbara. Soon the wine was gone.
"Oh, well," Liz said disappointedly, "But what a way to drink!"
Together with Barbara she forced her brother down on the bed and stripped off his clothes. Working together, they had him naked in a minute.
It was his turn. This time they both kissed his mouth. They took turns with his tongue. Both girls had an arm around his neck; one sat on either side of him. He kissed one and then the other. Meanwhile, their hands explored his young male body. They rubbed up against him and laid him back on the bed. There were two hands caressing his prick and balls. They each locked one of his legs between theirs. They fondled him.
"You two better stop or I'll come in your hands," he said.
Liz propped herself up on one elbow and looked across at her sister. "We can't have that, can we?" she said.
"Certainly not," Barbara agreed. "Well then, what should we do?" They considered the question for a few moments. "I have an idea," Liz said. "Something neither of you have done."
"Great," Barbara said.
"But please hurry," Bobby said.
The girls laughed at his predicament. "Don't worry, baby brother, it'll be worth the wait," said Liz.
She arranged the positions. She lay Bobby down on his side and Barbara the opposite way in the sixty-nine position.
"Okay, you two go ahead," she said.
"But what are you going to do?" Barbara asked.
"You'll see," Liz answered.
Bobby said nothing. He had already begun his part by gliding his tongue up into Barbara's still-damp vulva. He had never sucked her and it thrilled him to touch her soft flesh with his mouth for the first time. Her pubic hair had dried slightly, but it took him only a few minutes to turn it into a swamp of want.
This was Barbara's initiation to cocksucking and she began with relish. She slid her hot tongue along the underside of his prick to the base of the organ, then followed the same track back. She nibbled at the tip and teased her tongue delicately into the tiny piss-hole there. She fitted her mouth around the entire head and sucked hard and long before she began to bob. When she did she began slowly and quickened her movements as his orgasm gathered momentum.
Suddenly she saw Liz facing her. She was lying behind Bobby and kissing his asscheeks. Barbara saw her mouth disappear between the half-moons of his rear, and as Barbara reached to caress her brother's swollen balls, she noticed her sister spreading his bottom wide, exposing to their gaze the dark little hole of his anus.
Barbara thought it was so pretty with its lightly tufted hair and its soft wrinkles that she felt no surprise at all when she saw Liz's tongue slip into it. She felt Bobby's cock grow harder and longer than ever and then felt him shoot his hot load again and again into her eager throat.
Chapter Five
The next morning Bobby Reynolds slept late. Liz had kept at him most of the night, and it was four a.m. before he had finally gotten to sleep. When he went to bed he was totally depleted, but you can't keep a good fifteen-year-old down, and when he awoke he was as ready as ever.
Liz was sitting at the kitchen table reading the morning newspaper when he bounced down the stairs at noon. He went over and without a word kissed her quickly on the mouth. She hugged him.
"How do you feel this morning?" she asked when they separated.
"Great," he said happily, "I feel just great." He sat down across from her. "Yesterday was my last day of school, and I've got the whole summer ahead of me with nothing at all to do."
"Oh, I think we can find something to occupy your time," she smiled, and reached across to brush his hair out of his eyes. "You know, there are a lot of horny women around."
"Too bad they're not all like you and Barbara."
"That's one thing you'll learn quickly," she said. "Most people are so hung up they don't even know what's good for them."
"You seem to know what's good for me," he grinned.
"I know what's good, period," she said flatly. "Love is good. Sex is good. And sex with people you love is best of all."
"Amen," he laughed.
"Okay, I guess I'm just in a serious mood today, but you know this family wouldn't have half its problems if some of its members believed what I just said."
"You mean Mom?"
"Exactly."
"You think she'll ever come around?" he asked.
"I doubt it," Liz frowned, "I think she's too old."
"She's only thirty-nine!" Bobby said defensively.
"But she'll be forty next month." She paused. "I don't know, maybe there's hope for her."
"Meanwhile I'm hungry!" Bobby bellowed.
"Want some eggs?" Liz asked.
"Scrambled." He took the paper and turned to the comics while Liz got up to cook.
"Where is Barbara?" he asked as he read.
"She has finals today. I hope she does well-she didn't get much chance to study last night."
They glanced at each other and smiled wickedly. Now that Liz was standing, Bobby could see what she had on. She wore a leather halter top that revealed the femininity of her slightly hunched, narrow shoulders and her smooth, curved back. A pair of tight jeans cut off into hot pants hugged her hips and bottom, and at the end of her long legs were high-heeled sandals. As he watched her move around the kitchen, Bobby could feel the juices rise again, and the warmth within him surged up until it matched the warmth of the sunny June day.
"You look fantastic today," he said.
She smiled and brought over his breakfast. "Well, thank you, sir," she said, giving him a peck on the cheek, "I always look good after I've been well fucked."
"And you're going to be well fucked all summer. I'll see to that."
She sat down with a fresh cup of coffee. "That's something I want to talk over with you," she said seriously. He listened in silence, respectful of her opinions. She went on. "There's one thing about what we've been doing that you should know. When a person who hasn't had much experience with sex, like you, gets involved in this sort of thing, there is a real danger that they'll get hung up on it."
"I don't understand," he said.
"Some people think there is a special attraction to doing it with your own family, and that it's possible to enjoy it so much that someone could conceivably lose all interest in other people outside the family unit. Do you understand that?"
"I think so," he said.
"Well then, if you indulge in it occasionally there is no problem, as I see it, so long as you make it with other people as well."
"Then what is our problem?"
"The thing is," she went on, "that you have never been with anyone but Barbara and me and we don't want to be responsible for screwing you up."
"I get it, you think I should make it with someone that's not part of the family."
"Right. Any ideas?"
"Well, sure. Holly, of course. We've been going out together for six months. I would've balled her long ago if she'd let me."
"What will she do?" Liz asked.
"That's what puzzles me," he said. "She lets me finger her and she jerks me off, but that's all."
"Maybe she is afraid of getting pregnant."
He considered this. "No, she says she's on the pill."
Liz laughed. "Dear little brother, you'd be surprised how many girls your age don't take the pill but say they do, just to sound cool."
"Really?" She nodded. "Of course Barbara and I and just about every other girl my age are on them, but girls Holly's age are still a little young to walk into a gynecologist's office and ask for birth-control pills. Unless of course her mother buys them for her, but her mother's dead, isn't she?"
Bobby nodded. "Then what do you think we can do?"
"Well, the first thing to do is get her over here and get at her."
"How do we do that?" he asked.
Liz thought for a few minutes. "How hot does she get when you frig her?"
Bobby positively grinned. "It's incredible. I barely have to touch her and she goes and goes. In fact, she hasn't gone home from a date once in four months that she didn't have wet pants."
"Terrific," Liz said. "Then maybe all we have to do is . . . you get her over here. I'll take care of the rest."
Bobby looked at her skeptically. "I don't know," he said, "I've been trying all spring."
"That's just it. Maybe you've been trying too hard. Besides, there are some things a girl can find out that a guy can't. You just do as I say and I'll have you fucking your little girlfriend this afternoon."
"Oh, wow," he said enthusiastically. "Today is going to be even better than I thought."
When Holly Aldrich arrived at the Reynolds' home, Bobby and Liz were lying naked on the living room couch, quietly licking each other's genitals. At the sound of the doorbell his sister gave the boy's prick a last, long loving suck that went Pop as the organ left her open mouth, and jumped up to pull on her clothes.
"Now, remember what I told you," she said, "get upstairs and stay out of sight until I signal to come in."
"You're the boss," Bobby said, disappearing up the stairs, his clothes under his arm.
Liz straightened her top and shorts and went to answer the door. She left her shoes off in the hope that she would be less likely to intimidate the young girl if she were barefoot. She had never met Holly and she was dying to find out what Bobby's girlfriend was like.
"Hi. You must be Holly," she said as she ushered the tiny blonde inside.
"Is Bobby home?" the girl asked defensively, looking around quickly. "He called and said to come right over."
Liz closed the door behind her and led the girl into the living room. "I know he did. He had to go out for a minute, and he told me to hold you here till he got back," Liz said.
"Oh," Holly said quietly, "maybe I should come back later."
"Nonsense. Come right in and sit down. It'll give us a chance to get to know each other." Liz sat and watched the young girl hesitatingly join her on the couch, where only moments before she had been blowing her brother.
She silently complimented her brother on his choice of girlfriends. This chick was one of the cutest little blondes she had ever seen. She couldn't have been more than five feet tall, and her straight yellow hair reached easily halfway to the floor. Her naturally rosy cheeks blended prettily with the bright blue of her eyes, and her tiny nose turned up ever so slightly at the end, punctuating her cuteness. Her bust was not large under the corduroy shirt she wore, but Liz reminded herself that this girl was, after all, only fifteen; she had years of development ahead of her. As she sat near, Liz noticed that a clean smell of lemon enveloped her.
"You're Elizabeth," Holly said slowly.
"That's right, but call me Liz, please."
"Okay."
They were both silent for a moment. Liz decided it was time to break the ice. "Do you mind if I say something?" she asked. Holly shook her head. "I'd like to say that I had no idea you were as pretty as you are." It worked. Holly's cheeks blushed crimson and broke into a wide smile of relief. Liz lit a cigarette and waited.
"It's funny, you know, I never had any boyfriends until just this year. Now that I'm dating Bobby, I get asked out all the time."
"Hold on there," Liz interrupted, "if you're cheating on my brother I don't want to know about it."
"Oh no, it's not that," Holly said quickly. "I was just remarking on how things change."
"I know. I was only kidding," Liz said. "It happens to most of us that way. What I was younger I couldn't have gotten a boy to touch me if I'd paid him to do it. Now I have to fight them off."
"I can imagine, you're so beautiful," Holly said, gazing at the older girl.
"Why, thank you, Holly. I can tell that when you're older you'll have to beat them away, too."
"I have to now, sometimes," she whispered confidingly. "You know, that brother of yours is a real crazy man sometimes."
"I know," Liz said, then added quickly, "He acts kind of crazy around here, too. But there's nothing crazy about wanting to ball, is there?" She left it there for a moment and changed the subject. "If you're wondering why Bobby called you over it's because I brought you two a present." She reached into her pock-etbook and took out an ounce of marijuana. As she spoke she took out some papers and began rolling a joint. "Bobby said you love to smoke so I brought this from Boston."
"Oh, wow. What a nice thing to do. Thanks. Where is it from, Mexico?"
"No," Liz said, "It's real Columbian. If you don't throw it away on your friends this stuff will last you all summer. Want to try it?"
"Sure," Holly said, moving closer to Liz. "You know, we usually get our stuff from my brother Carl, but all he can get is lousy Mexican. I've always wanted some of this."
The girls began taking hits on the joint, drawing the raw smoke deep into their lungs, holding it, and passing it back to the other. With her first toke Liz felt the weed's effect. She reminded herself not to indulge too far; she did not want to get blasted and fuck up the whole plan.
"Take it easy on that," she said, exhaling. "Half a 'j' of this and you'll be on the moon. Want a soda?"
Holly nodded and drew again on the cigarette. Liz went over and closed the drapes to increase the room's atmosphere. When she got back to the couch, Holly was stretched out with her bare feet on the coffee table, the half-smoked joint smoldering in the ashtray. Liz put it out and sat down. She passed a bottle of orange soda to the blissful girl and drank some of her own.
"Do you like it?"
"Oh yeah, the soda's great."
"Not the soda, the grass."
Holly laughed hysterically at her own deliberate miscomprehension. "Oh, the grass," she repeated, "Yeah, it's great."
"Make you want to do things?"
The little blonde spread her hands wide in front of her. "It makes me want to do everything!"
"Want to see something wild?"
The fifteen-year-old looked at her absently. "Sure," she said.
"Come on," Liz said, "I want to show you something better than grass." She took Holly by the hand and led her upstairs to her bedroom. As they passed Bobby's room he peeked Out, a questioning look on his face, but Liz shook her head at him and moved on.
"Sit on the bed while I show you my newest toy."
Holly plopped down obediently and watched as Liz rummaged through her suitcases.
"That grass isn't the only thing I brought back from Boston. Take a look at this." She found what she was looking for and brought it over to the bed. She sat down close beside the stoned girl and placed in her hands a nine-inch plastic vibrator.
"Oh wow! It's a fake prick!" Holly exclaimed.
"That's right, and it does everything a real one does, and more." Liz switched it on. The spaced-out chick squealed with pleasure as the vibrator hummed and shook in her hands.
"Far out! Show me how it works."
Liz smiled wickedly and stood up. She slowly stripped off her clothes, deliberately enticing the young girl who stared at her, open-mouthed in appreciation. When it was done, and in Holly's condition it seemed to take hours, Liz stood in front of her, her moistening cunt only inches from the youngster's face. Holly suddenly reached out and planted a firm kiss on the thick bush of hair between her legs. Liz felt herself actually distill into fuck. Overcome with emotion and want, she crushed the pretty girl upon the bed and stripped her. Holly fought. It was only after Liz had laid bare the heaving tits of the fifteen-year-old that she realized the girl was not struggling to get away, but trying as best she could to help Liz undress her.
Liz became fired with lust. She tugged down the faded jeans and wrapped her arms and legs around the girl, plastering her mouth to Holly's sweet lips.
The black and blonde hair of the girls meshed together, snaring them in a net of passion from which there was no escape.
Bobby watched from the doorway as his sister and his girlfriend thrashed about on the bed. His prick got hard at the sight of it. His hands went down and he pumped his erection with both hands, trying in vain to quell the storm that raged in him in response to the unexpected lesbianism he was witnessing.
But he remembered Liz's instructions. He was not to intervene. His whole being wanted to, cried out to, but he was not ready to go against her orders and jeopardize her plan. Hold on boy, he told himself, it won't be long now. He kept himself well out of sight and watched the show.
Holly had thrown her arms around Liz's neck and pushed her mouth against the other's lips. She twisted this way and that, heaving and pitching as the dark girl's hands wandered over her body in a frenzied search.
Liz could taste the girl's sweet tongue in her mouth as it jabbed and stabbed against her own. The slippery muscle probed deep into her throat. Liz sucked it in between her hungry lips.
Holly was enveloped in a haze of marijuana intoxication. She could not see what was happening to her, at least not in any conscious way, but she could feel everything around her, absolutely everything, and it all felt so good! The mouth on her was far more passionate than Bobby's had ever been, the flesh softer, more fragrant, more yielding to her hands.
Liz caressed Holly and the young blonde caressed her back. Their hands touched tender nipples, soft skin, and supple curves. They pressed their breasts together, forming a soft pillow of flesh between their straining bodies. Their hands met as they both reached to touch the silky globes. Their fingers clutched together, pulling their bodies even harder against each other.
Liz felt driven. The knowledge that she was fucking a girl that would soon fuck her brother blinded her to all caution. Her most deeply hidden desires came out. Her ferocious instincts, carefully concealed by centuries of civilization, began to reassert their presence in the character of her being. There was one thing she had always wanted to do; one act that had tempted her since childhood; one crime she had wondered about, had dreamed of committing, but always known was beyond the reach of her female powers.
In the most secret region of her mind had always lurked the desire to take a woman's virginity.
Now she saw a way to fulfill that longing. As her brother watched in delirious horror, Liz scooped the vibrator from the floor with one hand. In a single swift movement she flipped Holly over on her back and wrenched her legs apart. She flung herself between them and banged her bare cunt against the nearly hairless crotch of the young blonde. She cunt-humped her. She heaved and pitched until Holly was bucking beneath her in wet excitement, until the young girl's hole was yawning open with arousal.
Then she made her move. She pulled back for a second and sank the long, thin machine deep into her own pink crevice. She twisted it around until she was sure it was well lubricated. Then she took it out and, after fitting it carefully at the entrance, gave a tremendous push, which sent the vibrator halfway into Holly's virgin vagina.
The little blonde stiffened instantly and struggled to suppress a scream. A second shove sent the plastic penis well into her. She clutched desperately at the sides of the bed as Liz placed the exposed end of the tool against the base of her own belly and began to hump again, driving the device in and out of the insulted organ, as though it were a prick of her own.
Bobby was thunderstruck. He lost all interest in his own pleasure as he tried to place together the pieces of what had just happened. Had his sister really robbed him of the ecstasy of destroying his girlfriend's last sexual defense? Had she really broke through Holly's maiden wall with a phony phallus? He felt a tremendous blow to his ego as he saw Holly's response to this outrage: she had locked her legs over Liz's back and was muttering vulgar words of encouragement.
He watched the nude girls in front of him, their arms around each other, their tongues in each other's mouth, their bottoms bucking furiously on the bed. His sister was where he wanted to be, on top of Holly, their groins grinding together, her tits pressed against her chest.
Liz was fucking her, but instead of a prick, she was using a pink, plastic vibrator. He could see it sliding in and out of Holly's cunt.
He turned to go: he did not want to see anymore.
He stopped down the hall as the searing sound of the girls' mutual orgasm shattered his depression. He hurried back to the room.
Liz climbed off Holly and drew the dildo slowly from her cunt. She placed it on the night table by the bed. It glistened with come, and its tip was stained red with the young girl's virgin blood. She lit a cigarette.
Bobby stood in the doorway, naked and speechless. His girl was on her back, naked, her legs stretched out wide on the bed, her little hairless slit looking raw and red. She propped herself up on one elbow and accepted a smoke from Liz.
"Holly," he started.
She turned and saw him and her eyes went wide with delight. "Bobby!" she squealed.
He hesitated at the door, too confused by all that had happened to move. He was surprised that she seemed so happy to see him.
"Well, don't just stand there, you gorgeous bastard," she said. "Get that big, beautiful cock of yours over here and fuck me!"
He came over to the bed. All the hurt was gone. She wanted him. It was all right. Everything was all right.
Chapter Six
Holly was roused to consiousness by the weight of bodies falling against her. She opened her drowsy eyes, but she could see nothing. She blinked a few times; it appeared she was looking at a great wall, a great pinkish-brown wall. There was nothing else there.
Then the wall moved and Holly woke up. She realized she had been staring at Bobby's naked back. It moved again. She and Bobby and Liz were lying together on the bed, their nude bodies in one giant heap. The young blonde raised herself up to see what was happening. Bobby and Liz were on their sides facing away from her, and Bobby was putting in to her from behind. Holy shit, thought Holly, what a wild idea! Her boyfriend's strong body was lurching heavily into Liz's round ass and she was squirming around, obviously enjoying the treatment. It seemed she was trying to get every inch of his prick into her as far as it would go.
They changed their positions. Bobby put his arms around his sister's hips and raised her to her knees. He crouched behind her, the length of his shaft still running in and out from between the rosy cheeks of her bottom.
Their faces were red and sweaty with strenuous pleasure as they screwed. They were so involved in the ecstasy of their coupling that they did not notice Holly was awake. She decided to join the fun.
She situated herself under Liz and brought her mouth up against her open vulva. When the older girl felt the touch of Holly's oral spear she gasped aloud. Her cunt already had Bobby's prong stabbing it from behind, and this added stimulation made her almost evaporate into bliss.
"Oh you sweet little cuntsucker," she sighed.
Holly giggled to herself and set to sucking. She teased her tongue at the very top of the sex-pit, flicking the clit till it mushroomed into its fully aroused size and shape.
"So Holly thinks she can excite you more than I can," Bobby said. "We'll just see about that."
He sent his weapon deep into his sister's love-cove, at the same time that he pulled her hips back with his hands. She cried out as his cock sank deep within her.
Holly was not to be outdone, and they began to compete for Liz's orgasm. Between them-the tongue of the girl and the prick of the boy-Liz swam in a surging surf of sex. Wave after wave of stimulation washed over her as one and then the other of her fifteen-year-old lovers dove into her steaming snatch. She was so aroused she did not even attempt to suck Holly's pussy, even though it danced luridly in front of her eyes as the girl lay beneath her. She could not have done it justice. Instead, she stared straight ahead at the bedroom door, not really noticing it, and surrendered herself to the all-consuming pleasure she was experiencing.
Holly stopped licking her clit and sent her tongue into her to its full length. Bobby's tool was already there, and it so filled her sheath the little blonde had to use all her strength to force it in. She reached up and hugged Liz's body to her and forced it in as far as it would go. Liz could feel her tongue inside her, side by side with her brother's big dork.
"Oh ... oh ... oh ... no ... oh no Holly . . . just the clit... just do the clit."
Holly gave it up. The clit was easy to lick. Since Bobby was fucking her dog-style, his prick barely touched the pleasure-nub. Holly had it all to herself. She decided to give all those little nerve endings a real treat. An image came to mind: a comedian on television imitating a snake, sticking out and pulling in his tongue very quickly. She touched the tough and tender spot with the tip of her tongue, very lightly, then pulled her tongue in. She did it again. There was no additional response from Liz, who was moaning and sighing with each thrust of her brother's tool. Holly tried again, this time touching lighter but very quickly and repeatedly. Liz groaned loudly and dipped her hips down into Holly's face. The blonde attacked with gusto. She continued the tongue-tickling and reached up to grab the gorgeous globes of Liz's hanging tits. She pinched the nipples with her fingers.
"Ah ... Ahh ... Ahhh . .. AAAAHHHH!" Liz clenched handfuls of bedsheet and twisted her hips and ass around in a wide circle as her arousal broke like a great wave, and her come gushed out of her loins and all over Holly's face and Bobby's prick.
That done, the two girls sat on the bed with Bobby between them. All three continued to kiss and touch as they talked.
Liz leaned over and placed one hand on her brother's crotch while with the other she wiped her come off Holly's lips and chin.
"You are an amazing piece of ass, Holly," Liz said affectionately. "This morning you were a virgin and this afternoon you're an incestuous bisexual."
"Not me," the little blonde said brightly. "You two are the incestuous ones. I live down the street, remember?"
Bobby did not speak; he was too busy touching the four lovely white breasts he had around him. He was not sure which pair he preferred: Liz's were larger and rounder with bigger nipples and deep brown haloes. While they were dark and exotic, Holly's had a springlike freshness to them, and their tips were upturned as if two tiny birds were forever perched on her breasts. Then too, he thought about Barbara's and their peaches-and-cream texture. He smiled to himself. Why prefer any? Couldn't he just love them all?
"Don't tell me you've never thought about it," Liz said, speaking to Holly.
"Oh sure," the girl said enthusiastically. "My brother Carl is gorgeous. He's got a great body, but, you know-" "Now wait a minute. Remember, you're my girl," Bobby said seriously.
"Shut up, you," Liz said, slapping his prick lightly. "And behave yourself, or we'll cut off your sex life altogether."
The girls laughed, but Bobby was quiet. He got up and excused himself. "I've got to go to the bathroom," he said moodily.
When he was gone the girls looked at each other.
"He'll get over it," Liz said. "Meanwhile, let's you and me figure out how we can get Carl over here and fuck you."
Holly's eyes lit up with excitement and she moved over next to Liz on the bed. Maybe we could trick him the way you did me," she said.
"It's possible," Liz said. "But I think I know a way to do it that's foolproof."
When Barbara came home that evening she was surprised to find that Holly was staying over for dinner. Throughout the meal she noticed that the petite girl with the long blonde hair paid more attention to Liz than to Bobby, who stared at his plate through the whole meal and said little if anything. After their mother left for the evening she confronted the two of them.
"AH right, what's going on?" she asked.
"You're going to call Carl and tell him to come over and fuck you," Liz said. She had situated herself on the living room couch next to Holly and was busy caressing the girl's straight yellow hair.
"I am?"
"Yes, and when he comes over and goes up to your room it'll be Holly in the bed and it'll be her he fucks."
"Wait a minute," Barbara interrupted. "What makes you think he'll just walk in and ball her?"
Liz looked at Holly and grinned. "Because the lights will be out."
Barbara was skeptical. "Oh, come on. It'll never work."
"It will if we get him stoned first," Liz said.
Holly clapped her hands and bounced on the couch. "Oh, this is going to be fun," she giggled. "I can't wait to ball him." She noticed the look on Barbara's face. "Don't be surprised by anything, Barbara," she said. She counted the acts off on her fingers. "Today Liz balled me and then Bobby balled me and then I gave Liz head while Bobby balled her."
Barbara was silent for a moment while she registered all this unexpected information in her head. She looked at her sister.
"This, I suppose, is your work."
"Guilty," Liz said proudly.
Barbara shook her head in resignation. "Okay, I'll play along, but on one condition." She paused. "Well?" Liz said. "I get to ball him, too."
Her older sister gave her a straight look. "Honey," she said, "we all get to ball him."
Chapter Seven
Liz answered the door when Carl arrived. He had obviously run all the way over for it took him a few minutes to catch his breath before he could even speak. Liz led him into the living room and motioned to him to sit down.
"Barbara said she won't be ready for a little while. Why don't you share this with me?" She passed him the joint she had been smoking.
"I, uh, shouldn't even have come. My little brother is home alone and Holly went out on a date, but when Barbara called-" he said, accepting the cigarette.
"I know," Liz said.
He looked at her with surprise. "You mean you know what she said?"
Liz nodded. "I was the one who told her to stop screwing around and call you. She's been telling me for days that she's dying to ball you but just didn't know how to let you know."
"Let me know? I've been trying to get her in bed for weeks."
"Well, you know how women are," she said, and left it at that. "But I should think a guy as good-looking as you wouldn't have to chase girls." She thought she noticed a faint blush across his lean, handsome features. He was eighteen, only a year younger than her, very slender and tall. He could be a male model, she said to herself, but he's not my type. Liz liked her men well built; if she wanted someone slim she'd find a woman like herself.
He took the joint and passed it back to her. "This is terrific dope," he said, trying to hold his breath in.
"Columbian," Liz said and inhaled.
"Ah," he said, leaning back in the chair. "Columbia has the best coffee and the best dope." He chuckled aloud.
Liz crossed her long bare legs and watched him watch her. "Grass always makes me horny," she said suddenly. "How about you?"
He shook his head in response. "It doesn't really make you horny," he said seriously. "It just eliminates all the bullshit in your head so you can concentrate on the important things."
"Like balling," Liz said, running her hands along the inside of her thighs.
His eyes followed her long slim fingers and stared outright as she scratched her knee lightly with her deep red fingernails. It was the prearranged signal. Barbara, who was watching them from the head of the stairs, stepped back from view and called down.
"Hi Carl, why don't you come on up?"
She switched off the light in the hall and hurried into her room. The entire upstairs was in total darkness. Holly had settled between the cool sheets of Barbara's bed and was waiting. Barbara concealed herself behind the dresser that stood nearby. When they heard his step at the top of the stairs Barbara called out again.
"Please leave the light off Carl, if you don't mind."
"I don't mind," he said, "but how do I find you?"
"Just feel along the wall," Barbara said. "First door on your right."
Carl felt foolish and stupid feeling his way along, half stoned out of his mind, blind as a bat. He laughed out loud when he leaned over and bumped his head against the door, but he kept coming. He knew balling Barbara would be worth it.
"In here, Carl," Barbara whispered. She could hardly keep from laughing herself as he stumbled into the room.
Holly did not see the absurdity at all. She had never been so excited in her life. Here she was, about to be fucked by her older brother and, if she were lucky, without his ever knowing about it. She could feel the juices moving in her as she became gripped by a pleasant fervor.
Carl reached the foot of the bed and looked down. "I can't even see you," he complained.
"That's all right," Barbara said, crouching down near Holly. "I'll turn the light on after." She slowly slipped around the dresser and, knowing the room as she did, tiptoed to the door without detection.
He moved to the side of the bed and sat down.
"I'll take my clothes off, all right?" he asked. She did not answer, but Holly reached out and squeezed his hand in response. He was naked in seconds. As he climbed into the bed he slowly came in contact with her cool, fresh body.
"Oh Barbara, I've waited for this so long."
The real Barbara snuck out of the room and hurried down the stairs as Carl sent his tongue deep into his little sister's mouth.
"Hurray!" Barbara whispered when she reached the living room. Liz was waiting for her with a hug and a kiss.
"Now, as long as he doesn't know the difference in your bodies . .." Liz said.
"He won't," Barbara said. "I never let him get near me. The only problem is the hair: mine's wavy and Holly's is straight."
"I know, but he was so stoned when he went up I don't think he'll even notice she has hair."
They laughed and kissed again.
"This calls for a celebration," Liz said. "Let's have some wine."
They opened a bottle and toasted themselves quietly. Upstairs they could hear Barbara's bed squeak rhythmically as the teenage brother and sister humped each other.
"What's next on the schedule?" Barbara asked.
"Well, the first thing we do is get that boy upstairs to plug us. If you want dick tonight that's were you'll have to get it."
"Where's Bobby?" asked Barbara, sipping her wine.
"He went out in a huff just after supper. It seems he -wants to be the only cock in town. He'll get over it."
"I hope so," Barbara laughed. "I miss him already."
"Well, you'll always have me," Liz smiled. "I can't stick you, but I give damn good head."
"That you do," the redhead said, smiling.
They kissed again and Liz went into the kitchen for some cigarettes. When she returned her younger sister was gone. She looked for her in the dining room, but she wasn't there. Holly's orgasmic cry sounded through the house and Liz, her curiosity at the breaking point, went upstairs to investigate.
As she neared the top of the stairs, the moans and sighs grew louder and louder, and she felt the familiar vibrations between her legs grow to match them. On the top step she removed her clothes and laid them care- fully on the floor. She felt another pile next to them. She knew where Barbara was. Liz got down on her knees and crawled over to her. The hot redhead was kneeling just outside the door, naked, and listening to the furious fornicating she had helped bring about.
Liz crawled up behind her and pressed her naked cunt against her sister's warm backside. The girl's position made the flesh of her ass hard as rock. Liz grinded against her as they evesdropped. She reached around and Barbara placed her sister's hands on her own swelling breasts.
Barbara leaned back and brought her lips close to Liz's ear. "It seems a shame not to take part in the fun, doesn't it?" she whispered. "I mean that fucking was meant for me."
Liz agreed. "But wait your turn. Age before beauty you know." She pinched her sister's taut nipples.
Barbara groaned with disappointment as the older girl got up and went into the room. Carl was on his knees, fucking Holly for the second time, this time from behind, and did not hear her enter. He went right on plunging his long shaft in and out of his sister's shattered snatch.
At first Holly had tried to keep quiet, afraid that her brother might recognize her voice, but after his first orgasm she lost all sense of restraint and began to call out with lust each time his member sent her over the brink. She was wildly excited now and was coming every minute and yelling her lungs out with each new spasm.
Holly had had at least eight orgasms when Liz decided she could wait no longer. She threw herself on the young man and clutched at him desperately.
"Come on Carl, isn't there enough of that to go around?"
He looked up with surprise when he felt two female hands reach around him and tug his gigantic hard-on from what he thought was Barbara's pussy.
"Who's that?" he said, startled.
"It's Liz," she said, "and I want some of that myself."
She threw herself down and drew him upon her. Her cunt was well greased-he slid right in and started fucking.
"Oh wow," he said, the inflection of his voice reflecting his dazed condition. "Both of you at once!" He was beside himself. He grabbed her by her hair and charged into her: his cock in her cunt, his tongue in her mouth. Liz crossed her legs over his back. They rocked wildly while Barbara listened with envy and Holly sat up in bewilderment.
It took her a moment to realize what had happened. A minute ago she had felt her brother's cock bouncing off the mouth of her uterus; now her cunt was empty. She felt deprived, and decided to do something about it. After all, she thought, he's my brother isn't he?
The blonde was soaked with sweat from the waist up and come from the waist down. Her whole body was slippery as oil. She crawled over and lay down on Carl as he fucked Liz. She unlocked the brunette's legs so she could lay flat against his flesh. She twisted his head around and stuck her tongue in his ear. He went crazy and began to fish-flop on the bed. Liz and Holly held on for dear life. Barbara still kneeled in the hallway, frigging herself maniacally. She crawled in and kneeled near the foot of the bed, the sounds of the three wet bodies driving her to total abandon. She strummed her clit till the music of orgasm filled the room and the house was full of song.
Liz's come was like a clap of thunder. A quart of fluid bolted out of her loins. Her spasms were so strong that they threw the three fuckers apart. Carl, dazed and near orgasm, landed on his back next to Holly. But he was over the edge now, and with or without pussy he was coming. He didn't even have to touch it; he just lay there and yelled, "I'm coming!"
Holly, in a fit of excitement, leaped on top of her brother's lap. She took his cock in her mouth and gulped down every drop of his precious scum. He lay back, delirious, and groaned. "Oh Barbara! Oh Barbara! Oh!" Then the real Barbara was on him. She pushed Holly aside and climbed aboard. With Carl beneath her she rode his still-hard erection like an expert-her hands on his chest, her knees drawn up on either side of him, her red hair flying as she swung her head in wide, slow, chaotic circles.
"Who? Who are you?" Carl said, confused by the presence of a third girl.
He had time to say nothing more. Liz climbed over his head and crushed her dripping cunt onto his mouth. She captured his tongue between her sweet labia and raised her hands to play with her own breasts.
Barbara leaned forward and tongued across her sister's satiny back in long licks.
Holly finished swallowing her brother's sperm. She now had it in her stomach as well as her cunt. She was swimming in it, swimming in a sea of liquids: semen and sweat and saliva and her womanly love-juice; she was drowning in the swill of sex.
She wanted something more, something different. She went to the edge of the bed and stuck her head under Barbara's bouncing body. She could see nothing, none of them could, but she knew what was there. She knew the long, slim shaft of her brother Carl was slamming in and out of the redhead's crotch. She knew his crotch was there too: the mane of hair, the hairy sack, the soft balls.
She licked them. Her tongue explored his crotch, tasted the slimy skin, tickled the tender testicles. Hairs caught in her teeth. She licked down farther. She tongued his asshole. A thousand sparks filled his brain and his prick sprang up even larger than before until Barbara shrieked with ecstasy and pain and came screaming as he ejaculated squarely against her cervix.
As her sister's cries reverberated against the walls of room, Liz came too and drenched his mouth and chin with pearly paste. Holly echoed them as her own finger and the taste of his anus sent her over the waterfall of a final orgasm to crash at the bottom and be still.
The four lust-wracked bodies separated and fell into the bed with a chorus of sighs. Carl reached over to Barbara in the darkness and caressed her.
"Please," he said, "Tell me who you are."
Barbara did not answer.
"Go ahead," Liz said, "tell him."
Barbara paused. "I'm Barbara," she said finally.
"And I'm Liz," Liz said from her corner of the bed.
Carl turned to the fourth body. "Then who are you?" he asked hesitatingly.
"Guess," Liz said, and turned on the light.
Chapter Eight
His friends ran away to play and Billy Aldrich closed the front door. He had given them an excuse so he wouldn't have to go out and join them. Even now as he walked back to the living room, he could not remember what he had told them. It didn't matter-so long as he could be alone.
He pulled off his shorts and flopped down in his father's chair. How could he tell them that it was more fun to play with himself than with them? He knew they wouldn't understand. That time he caught Carl doing it in the bathroom, hadn't he made him promise not to tell anyone? There must have been a reason for that. Besides, the knowledge that he could do these wonderful things to himself gave him the sense of possessing a great secret. He liked that; he liked feeling that he could do something nobody else could do.
In fact he liked everything about masturbating, liked it so much that over the past month it had begun to dominate his life. He could not wait to be left alone in the house. And when someone was home he would often go down to their basement playroom and do it there. But he didn't like that so much: he was afraid of being found out. He wanted no one to intrude into the strange and happy little world he had discovered.
As he stroked his small prick with a fond hand, all those vague things he felt once more came into focus in the fleshy, tube-like muscle. He was glad to have found this nice way to deal with all his new emotions; and now that school was out he looked forward to a whole summer of uninterrupted frigging.
He pumped his hand faster and faster as the pleasurable warmth increased. He knew if he thought about the pretty girls in his class it would be even better. He visualized Debbie Wilson: she was the cutest girl in the school. He tried to picture her without her clothes, but it was difficult because he had never seen her that way. Actually he had never viewed any girl naked except his sister. He tried to recall how Holly had looked that time he had seen her stepping out of the shower. It was easy; she had looked so pretty with her long wet hair hanging down almost to her bottom. And what a surprise when she turned around! Why, she had nothing between her legs but some blonde hair!
He had thought it funny at the time but had stopped laughing when she took his hand and made him touch her there. He remembered that was the first time he had felt his strange urges. Later, looking through a magazine he found in his father's closet, he realized that all girls were like Holly. When he found that out he was glad; he didn't want to think there was something wrong with his sister, and he spent the next several months trying to spy on her in the shower again. Sadly, she always locked the bathroom door after that, but fortunately his father kept buying those magazines.
Billy never dared to take them out of the closet, however, so now he sat in the living room, his knees apart, his fist pounding hell out of his young crotch. He tried to picture Holly again and remember the feel of those hairs and the moist skin beneath them. Mostly all he could recall was the smile on her face as she told him to go ahead and feel.
The doorbell rang. Billy looked up, his face flushed with excitement, and stared at the front door. Maybe they'll go away, he thought He waited. The bell sounded again. He jumped up and, clutching his shorts, ran to answer. He pulled on his clothes quickly and opened the door.
There was two older girls standing there: one had black hair, the other red. The redhead wore very tight blue jeans and a bikini top, the black-haired girl had on very short shorts and a white blouse open from the throat nearly all the way down to her belt; her breasts were almost entirely exposed.
"Hi," the redhead said to him, "can Carl and Holly come out and play?"
He stared at their bodies and tried to speak, to conceal his embarrassment. "Uh . .. well, they. ..."
"Don't be embarrassed," the redhead said. "We're not going to eat you."
"But then again, we might," the black-haired girl said.
He was suddenly conscious of the fact that she was looking him up and down, and she wasn't smiling like the other girl.
"Well, I think they .went to the beach. They won't be home till later," he said, and started to close the door.
But before he could, the black-haired girl pushed past him and walked into the house. "That's too bad. I guess we'll just have to wait for them."
"But-" They ignored him and sat down in the living room. "I wonder why Holly and Carl went to the beach and didn't tell us?" one of the girls said.
"Maybe they wanted to be alone," the other said mysteriously. The two girls looked at each other and laughed.
Billy sat down in his father's chair. He looked with wonder at the two beautiful, half-naked girls. "I don't really know when they'll-" "Oh, that's all right," the dark girl interrupted. "We don't have anything to do anyway. Hey, you must be Billy."
"That's right," the little boy said.
"Well, I'm Liz and this is Barbara. We're friends of your brother and sister."
"Good friends," the redhead said, "Very good friends."
Billy didn't understand what was so funny. He was about to ask when Liz said to him, "How old are you, Billy?"
"Twelve," the boy said. "I'll be thirteen in October."
"He does look a lot like Holly with that long blond hair," Barbara said to Liz. Her sister looked at her thoughtfully. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked.
Barbara just smiled.
"Do you have a girlfriend, Billy?" Liz asked. Barbara giggled when she was the look on his face. "Not really," he said.
"Oh, a philosopher!" Barbara laughed outright, "Not really, ha!"
Liz gave her sister a mock-stern look. "Stop picking on him," she said. Then she looked back at Billy and asked him quietiy, "Would you like one?"
He was very confused. "What do you mean?"
Liz leaned close to him and brushed the long hair out of his eyes. "I mean me," she said. "Would you like me to be your girlfriend? I think you're very cute."
Billy didn't know what in the world to say. He just sat, stunned, and stared at her. She ran one fingertip across his lips. "Don't you think I'm pretty?"
"Yes," he said, his words coming out like the whimper of a trapped animal. She leaned over closer and the nipple of one big breast peered out at him through her open shirt.
Liz got down on her knees in front of the frightened boy and took his face in her hands. She kissed him full on the mouth; when he tried a half-hearted attempt to pull away, she held him like a vise against her open lips. He felt something wet and strange on him-it was her tongue licking his closed lips.
When he opened his mouth to breathe, she slipped her tongue in and licked around his and after several minutes of teasing and tickling finally convinced him to respond in kind.
Barbara looked on, fascinated, as her nineteen-year-old sister trenched the little boy. She could feel the warmth grow in her loins as the firm edge of Billy's hesitation melted away in his own rising heat.
Both girls knew that what they were doing was dangerous. If they were caught seducing this youngster, they could never live down the humiliation, but as long as no one would know....
Billy kissed Liz as hard as he could and tried to think of what to do. He remembered all the movies he had seen and how the lovers in them kissed, so he put his arms around her as boldly as he could and drew her to him.
Liz's hands caressed the back of his neck as she kissed him again and again. After she had tasted his tongue for a while, she pulled away from him and looked at her sister.
"Wow," she said breathlessly, "this one is truly talented."
Barbara had spread her legs on the couch and was rubbing the full mound of her cunt through the rough cloth of her jeans. Her eyes grew heavy with desire as she watched her sister snare another youngster in her web of seduction.
Liz ran her tongue over her open lips and smiled at her accomplice. "He's a great kisser. Want to try him?"
Billy blushed with pride and shame as the second girl took up position next to the first on the floor in front of him. When she kissed him it was hard and passionate. She pulled off her top as they kissed and threw it on the couch, then she took his hands in hers and placed them on her heavy tits.
The two girls were caught up in their own trap of passion.
"Feel me, touch me," Barbara mumbled through their kisses. She rubbed his hands all over her heaving, panting boobs. She made him pinch her nipples between his fingers.
"Squeeze harder!" she ordered.
He tried to obey, squeezing as hard as he could. He crushed the fat flesh-nubs until she whimpered with delight.
"Hhmm .. . hhhmmm . . hhhhmmmm!" Something else was happening too. He could not see with Barbara's mouth plastered against his own, but he knew Liz's hands had opened his shorts and were pulling them down toward his knees. He felt hot hands tearing at his underpants.
He almost told them to stop, that he could do that better himself, but suddenly he wasn't sure, suddenly he was willing to wait and see what happened.
"Have you ever had a blow-job, Billy?" Liz asked in a little-girl voice.
He tried to say no but he could not speak with Barbara's tongue in his mouth. He shook his head instead.
"No? Well, every girl should give her boyfriend a blow-job, so I'm going to give you one right now." Her fingers seized his little horn and held it steady as she plunged her hungry mouth down and over it. Her warm tongue licked down the length of the stiff tool and around its base. She brought up the soft sack of his balls in one hand and tongued the hairless skin.
At the same time, Barbara sucked her tongue out of his mouth and forced his head down on her jutting breasts. He tongued the glands as they bobbed again and again into his face. He licked the blunt nipples and sucked in their fragrant sweetness.
Liz's hair rose and fell over his lap as she gave head to his virgin genitals. Her mouth watered at the taste of his meat. His member was moist with her slimy saliva.
The girls switched places-Barbara hungrily attacked his pint-sized prick while Liz cupped her milk bottles in her hands and delivered them up to the door of his mouth. His tongue was there to greet them with lavish kisses. The older girl was beside herself with passion; she hugged the boy's head against her chest and broke out in continuous sighs and moans.
"You little darling," she squealed. "You tiny little virgin darling. You tiny little tit-licking darling!"
Barbara did not speak-her mouth was full of cock. Liz moved down beside her and they shared his tool. They licked along both sides of his organ, wetting the diminutive dork with a hot, wet bath of tongues.
Billy stood up so they could get at his prick more easily. They traded it back and forth; first one sister and then the other sucked the steaming sweetmeat into her oral cave, laved his short sword with a razor kiss, passed it on to the other girl. It did not take long for Billy to reach the breaking point. His throbbing prick was in Liz's mouth when with a cry of, "I'm going to do it!" he sent his pint of prick-soup down her thirsty throat.
"Hey, that's not fair!" Barbara complained. "I want some too!"
Liz, her eyes dancing with ecstasy, opened her mouth; on the end of her tongue hung a huge drop of watery semen. Barbara leaned over and sucked Liz's tongue into her mouth. She drank down the sperm right out of her sister's mouth.
"Mmmm, your come sure tastes good, Billy," she said, giggling.
The little boy sat back in the chair and tried to smile, but his pretty blond head was so tired he could hardly keep from dropping off. Liz and Barbara leaned over and kissed him on the cheeks, then they gathered their clothes and headed for the door.
"Wait a minute; there is something I want to get first," Liz said. She winked at her sister and disappeared down a hall towards the bedrooms. While she was gone Barbara slipped on her bikini top and adjust- ed the cups to fit her healthy breasts. Liz walked back with an admiring look on her face.
"Showing off your nice tits again?" she teased.
Barbara laughed. "Well, I can't go out naked, what would people say?"
"They'd probably say, 'There goes Barbara Reynolds with her nice tits.' " Barbara laughed again. "What did you steal?"
"I didn't steal anything," Liz corrected, "I just borrowed all of Carl's grass I could find." She opened her bag to reveal its contents: six ounces of marijuana in plasdc bags.
"What do you want that for? Don't you have enough dope?"
"Of course I do," Liz said. "There just might be something we want Carl to do for us in the future and this may help convince him to see things our way."
"That's you-always thinking ahead," Barbara said, shaking her head. She looked over again at little Billy. "Don't you think we ought to get a little more before we leave?'" Liz put her arm around her sister's waist and squeezed. "Let the little rascal sleep. There's always a next time."
Barbara gave her a skeptical look. Liz went on: "Don't worry. It's only two o'clock. The house will be empty for hours. I'll take care of you when we get home." She patted her sister's ass and opened the front door to go home.
Chapter Nine
It was dangerous fucking in the car; if they were caught Carl knew how embarrassed he would be. But the real danger was that one of his friends might happen by and notice who he had with him in the back seat of his car.
His was one of a thousand vehicles in the parking lot of the state beach, yet he felt as if he were doing it in the center ring of a circus. He imagined all eyes were on him, but in reality the only eyes on him were the eyes of his own conscience. Incest did not lie easy on the mind of young Carl Aldrich.
But what was he to do? When the light had gone on in Barbara's bedroom and it was revealed that he'd shot his potent seed into his little sister's cunt, he felt himself seized by a tidal wave of passion he was helpless to resist. From that moment he'd been unable to take his hands off her. And she made it worse-if only she weren't so willing, he thought. When he stole into her room after the rest of the family was alseep, if only she had told him to leave! And this morning when he suggested the beach, if only she hadn't insisted they go alone. Maybe if she had done these things, instead of jumping at the chance to fuck, he could have controlled the urge to have her cute little ass. But he knew he was fooling himself. She had been a party to the plot all along, and now that it was done, she made no bones about wanting it to continue. She sure loves cock, he thought.
He watched her love his cock. Her mouth and hands were down between his legs, groping and tugging. Her lips surrounded the wide, bulbous crown as the tip of her tongue teased the tiny pisshole.
They were in the backseat-she crouching down, her head over his lap, and he sitting up straight, keeping an eye out for intruders. He would have felt better if it was dark out, but it was only five in the afternoon. The sun would stay up till at least eight. She sat up and brought her honey mouth against his. "You're hard again," she whispered throatily. "Why don't you do it to me."
He felt himself stiffen even more at her suggestion. He had already balled her once, out in the dunes-in a nice, secluded spot where no one could see them but the jets flying into the New York airports. He had felt safe there from spying eyes, but when they got back to the car and she said, "I want it again," he went all cold inside. Now the warmth had returned and was beginning to turn to heat.
He pulled her over him and put it into her from beneath. She yelped as his cock bit into her, then her thighs spread with a shuddering sigh as she warmed to it. She rode him, jerking crazily, her little pointed boobs dancing and bouncing against his extended tongue, and when she came with a squirt of juice and a sharp cry, he unloosed his final reservoirs of fuck and flooded her with white heat.
"Oh, far out!" she shivered, lowering herself and kissing him shamelessly and deep. "You've got the most god-wonderful dick in the whole wide world, big brother-you know that?" She kissed him again and again.
"Sure I know it," he said, smiling. "That's why it goes so well with your perfect little pussy."
Holly beamed with happiness. "Let's get back to the house. All this sun and sand and sex has made me hungry. I'm starved!"
They pulled on their clothes and climbed into the front seat.
"Think we should go over and see Barbara and Liz tonight?" he asked, glancing at his hot little sister as she combed her hair. She stopped and put her hand on his groin.
"I'd like to stay home and be alone, if you don't mind."
"Mind? You've got to be kidding!" he said, and hit the gas.
When they got home Carl went upstairs to shower and Holly started supper. Since her mother died two years before, she had become the last line of defense between the Aldrich family and starvation. She didn't mind, though; she enjoyed cooking and she enjoyed the sense of purpose it gave her. Most of her girlfriends felt superfluous; Holly felt needed. Of course it was more than that. She coveted her father's attentions and serving him a good meal was one way to please him. She knew he'd been unhappy these past two years without her mother, and she enjoyed the pleasure she brought him in her own small way.
She always said to herself: I can't be a wife to him, but I can be a damn good cook. Today, though, she began to think differently. What was a wife anyway? A woman who lived with a man, balled him and helped take care of him. She could take care of him-she knew that. And now she knew she could ball him, too-if he let her. She thought about that. Why not? Hadn't Liz done it? It was definitely something to consider.
When Larry Aldrich came home from work, his daughter met him at the door with a big kiss on the cheek.
"Well, I haven't had one of those in a long time," he said, smiling and taking off his hat.
"Did you enjoy it?" Holly asked coquettishly.
She thought she could discern a slight blush come over his dark complexion. He did not answer as he removed his trench coat.
"Of course I did," he said finally. "I always enjoy a kiss from my favorite girl."
Holly faced him with eyes full of mock-hurt. "I thought Mrs. Reynolds was your favorite girl," she said, sniffling.
He raised his eyebrows meaningfully. "I don't think I'll be seeing very much of Mrs. Reynolds anymore. Not after last night."
"Oh?" Holly said with pretended indifference. "Have a fight?"
"Something like that," he said, loosening his de and opening the front door. "What smells so good?"
"Just a little something I threw together when I got home from the beach."
He smiled at his daughter. "You are an angel."
She smiled back and shook her head. "No Daddy, I'm a devil."
After dinner Larry sat in his chair in the living room and read the evening paper while Carl went upstairs to listen to records. Billy and Holly went downstairs to the basement playroom to watch television.
"Anything good on?" Holly asked, ploppjng down on the studio couch and resting her face in her hands.
"Nothing as good as what happened today," Billy said. He was grinning from ear to ear.
"What are you talking about," Holly asked absently, looking through the television guide.
He was dying to tell her. "This afternoon two girls who said they were friends of yours named Barbara and Liz came over looking for you and Carl."
"So?" Holly said, sitting up.
"So they pulled down my pants and gave me a blow-job."
Holly blinked. "They what?"
"You heard me," he said proudly.
She tried to doubt him, but she knew what those two sisters were like. It was certainly not beyond their powers of depravity.
Billy's grin had widened into the most obscene leer a twelve-year-old could possibly muster.
She just stared at him. Then she clapped her hands and pulled him over onto the couch next to her. "Tell me about it," she giggled.
He told her the whole story. When it was finished she got a strange look on her face.
"I didn't know you knew all about that stuff," she said.
He was insulted. "What do you think I am, a kid?" "Not anymore, that's obvious." They both laughed and hugged each other. "I knew you'd understand," he said.
After a few minutes Holly realized he was pressing himself warmly against her jutting tits.
"Hey, cut it out you little rascal," she scolded.
He hung his head. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I didn't fuck them and I'd sure like to fuck somebody."
She studied his face. "Do you want to fuck me?" she asked.
His face brightened. "Oh, yes I do!"
She thought about it for a minute. This is getting ridiculous, she thought, he's only twelve years old. Then: But it would be nice to have him around next year after Carl goes away to college; that is, if I don't start making it with Daddy.
"Okay," she said, "let's do it!"
They took off their clothes and got on the couch. If anybody comes downstairs I'm screwed, thought Holly. "We'd better make this quick," she suggested. "We may not have much time."
"Okay," Billy said. He was hard and ready. His little prick stuck out like a branch of a young tree. Holly sucked it-it wasn't nearly as Jong as Carl's and her tongue fit around it easily. She wet it with her mouth and then let him lick her pussy for a few seconds, just to lubricate it.
"I like that," Billy said as he climbed over her. "It's weird, but it's nice."
"Amen," Holly said, and kissed him to keep him quiet.
She fitted him between her legs and then bounced and scraped against him until he spasmed into her, wildly exciting the young blonde. She reached behind him, grabbing his buttocks, and humped against him, coming four times in as many minutes.
They separated. Holly giggled to herself silently as they put on their clothes. "I just got my little brother's virginity," she said fondly. She looked at him. "Thanks."
"Did you like that?" he asked.
"It was wonderful," she said.
They hugged each other. They stood for a few minutes in each other's arms; both slim, both blonde, Holly a few inches taller than her brother.
"Can we do it again soon?" he asked.
"Oh yes."
Her father was in the position he usually assumed on evenings he did not go out; he sat in his favorite chair in the living room reading a current bestseller, as she hurried by and went up the stairs to Carl's room.
The stereo was on. She walked right in without knocking. He was sitting on his bed barechested in his cut-off jeans.
"Don't you knock anymore?" he reprimanded her half seriously. "No," she said simply, "I figure anything you might be doing in here I should know about."
"Oh? And when did you take over my life?"
She pretended to listen to the music for a minute, then she leaped on the bed and yelled, "Right now!" as loudly as she dared. She grabbed at his beltbuckle and got it undone. He thought he understood the game and tried to keep her from getting his pants off, but it was his belt she was after. She worked it out from around his waist and held it up in front of him. "Here. I've been a naughty girl and I want you to beat me."
Carl seized her by the shoulders and pulled her close. He kissed her quickly on the lips and looked straight in her eyes. "Listen, you've got to behave yourself when Dad's around or we'll both be up the creek without one, understand?" But he couldn't get mad at her. "Besides, what could you have possibly done that's so bad you deserve to be whipped for it?"
In her most innocent voice she said, "For one thing I just fucked Billy."
He released her, shaking his head slowly. "You are incredible. Really incredible."
She bowed slightly. "Thank you, sir."
He looked at her and laughed. "What the hell can I say to that?"
"Nothing," she said definitely, "but you could spank me for it." "Not now. Maybe sometime when we're alone, but not now."
"Well then, will you fuck me?" she asked. "My box is hot for you again."
"Not now," he said irritably. He took her hands. The feeling came back, but he fought it. "Look, we have to wait until Dad goes to sleep. I'll give you a sleeping pill to put in his tea. In the meantime go down to the playroom and watch television with Billy, and for god's sake keep your hands off him. Can you do that?"
"I guess so," she said, disappointed. Her face brightened, "But you promise you'll fuck me later?" "I promise," Carl said.
It was all arranged. Their father went off to bed after the eleven o'clock news and the three children tiptoed down to the playroom shortly afterwards. Holly was the horniest and the first one there. Billy arrived next and together they opened the studio couch into a full-sized bed. Carl checked to make sure his father was alseep before shutting his door and sneaking down after them.
When he got to the playroom he found his little brother and sister necking on the convertible. The lights were low and gave the room a subterranean atmosphere, like those crypts under monasteries where priests and nuns in the Middle Ages met to revel in sin and sacrilege. The linoleum floor was cool on his bare feet as Carl neared the bed. They were nude and each had an arm encircling the other's neck, the other hand dallying through their partner's pubic hair. They were both blonde and looked very pretty playing on the bare mattress.
"Room for one more?" Carl asked quiedy and climbed aboard.
"Always," Holly smiled. Her lips were wet where Billy had been licking her mouth.
Carl positioned himself next to his sister, his head towards her feet. He gently separated her silken thighs and slicked his tongue over her moist, fleshy cunt-lips.
He coaxed open the labia with two fingers. She was as soft and sweet and pink there as a pair of rose petals.
"Oooh, yes, kiss me there," Holly sighed. She let go of Billy's balls and used that hand to press Carl's head firmly into her passion-pit.
Billy moved up and brought his penis to his sister's mouth. "Like to taste it?" he whispered.
Holly smiled languidly. Her entire body began to melt into a flux of sensation. She took his tool into her oral orifice and laved its smooth skin with lips and tongue. It was like a flame licking at his tesdcles. Pleasure rose from him like smoke from a young fire.
"Ummmm," the boy moaned. He was in a dark dream of delight.
Now the three children were connected with Holly as the center link. They performed their oralgenitalisms silently, affectionately. Billy was hot, but kept quiet- somehow he knew it was not his place to make demands. Carl was anxious to dwell in Holly's tight chambers, but he held himself in check in order to savor each moment, each caress.
It was Holly who began things. With one brother's tongue in her slit and the other's prick in her mouth she found herself tempted to enter a really wild scene. The more she thought about what was happening, the more passionate she became. After ten minutes she was hot as a torch. She grasped Billy's prick in her hand and continued to frig it as she rolled over onto her other side and buried her head between Carl's thighs. She took his scrotum-sack into her mouth and sucked gingerly, tickling the fluid balls with a teasing tongue. Then she licked upwards in the direction of his erect maleness.
She slid her mouth over his handsome cock.
His hands played in her yellow hair; one on her head and the other on her pubic mound. Her sparse crotch hair was like rain-soaked summer grass-clean and fragrant and waiting to be enjoyed. He rolled his tongue through it and over her horny clit. She shivered again.
Billy wanted to join the fun. He took Holly's hand off his stiff joint and moved down on the bed. His face was opposite her perky bottom. He could see Carl's face between her legs, could see where his tongue disappeared into her fleshy field. He touched the smooth, round moons of her ass. He ran his tongue over the meadowy hillocks. He spread the tight cheeks to get a better look at what his older brother was doing.
Carl was having a difficult time of it. Her hips were heaving beneath his tongue's titillation and he himself was being distracted from his efforts by the heavenly feeling of her mouth sucking his hard rod.
Billy leaned his body against her to help keep her still, and also to enjoy the contact of her flesh. He looked closer. From the place where her lips joined together to the top of her ass ran a deep valley lined with short, golden hairs. The skin there seemed darker than anywhere else on her body, and Billy was intrigued by a little spot in the center that was darkest of all.
The innocent boy had never seen a woman's ass before and, of course, did not know what to expect. Each time Holly strained to raise herself off the mattress, the opening yawned like a little mouth; when she relaxed it closed right up. It wasn't until later that Billy found out exactly what the hole was; all he knew was that when he kissed it she sure liked it.
Each time he did, a perceptible shudder passed through her. He started kissing it as he had learned to kiss her mouth: with his tongue. She made moaning noises. How was Billy to know that he had initiated his own sister to the delights of analingus? All he knew was that he liked licking around and inside the strong ring of muscles, and that each time he did, she pumped his prick harder than ever.
All the while Carl tortured her clit with his quick tongue.
A veritable song of sighs issued from her throat under this dual stimulation. She fought to get up on her knees, but the boys stayed with her-one in front and the other behind-both of them slipping and sliding their tongues into her melting loins.
She lurched on the bed as if struggling to escape from the almost unbelievable pleasure she felt as the great source of her ecstasy filled to the breaking point. Suddenly it burst and her love rushed out with a roar and flooded her brothers with mouthfuls of come-grease.
They didn't give her a second to recover.
"Now it's my turn," Carl said. He reached up and threw her down on the bed. He lay beside her and thrust his slim phallus deep into her young vagina. She flung one leg over his hips to accomodate his shaft. As she did so she exposed her bottom again to Billy's anxious view.
"Mine too," the younger boy announced. He pressed his crotch against her vulnerable backdoor. After many minutes of desperate groping he found the anus with his fingers and spread it wide. He planted the tip of his penis within the wet rim and thrust.
Holly arched her back and sucked in a fast gulp of breath.
"Ohhhh! NNNNoooo-" she tried to scream, but Carl cut her protest short with a kiss. She moaned wildly against his mouth as Billy stabbed his dagger in and out of her wounded asshole. Carl, in the meantime, was scooping deeper and deeper into the normal channel.
Together they held their sister motionless as they banged her holes again and again with their swollen prick-shafts.
Within minutes she was in the grip of ecstatic convulsions.
Oh god! Oh yes! she thought as she slid out of full consciousness and into that dim realm that is true paradise. She was no longer Holly Aldrich, she was only a quivering body of flesh being pierced again and again by two hellish erections. The sensation was beyond anything she could ever relate. She was so full of cock she thought she would dissolve into cunt-juice. A thousand times she knew she could not go on, that the pleasure was just too much to endure, but she was in no position to stop it. Her brothers bound her to them with their strong arms. Carl's tongue filled her mouth so she could not call out. She had no choice but to submit.
She resigned herself to the mad tripling.
Carl was the first to reach orgasm. He smacked his belly on hers until his prick erupted in volcanic heaves, and molten sperm ran into the cave of her vagina. When she felt him shoot his load, her muscles contracted involuntarily and squeezed down on Billy's member like a vise.
He yelled as the tight ring of her sphincters gripped the base of his prick. He yelled again and fired his round of semen down her rectal tube. Caught between the force of her brothers' discharges, Holly felt her orgasm torn right out of her, as a jerking, spilling spasm of her bowels sent her foaming froth down on their merciless members.
Later Holly swore she'd felt her own juice running from her rectum during her orgasm, but finally admitted it was probably only the hot proof of Billy's anal love.
Chapter Ten
It was the end of the week. Friday night. June Reynolds came home from work, walked right to the bar and mixed herself a drink.
"Would either of you like to join me?" she asked her daughters.
Liz spoke right up. "Yes, thank you, Mother."
"No, thank you," Barbara said, giving her sister a puzzled look. June noticed the expression. She knew this was rather unusual behavior for her. She rarely drank, and then only on social occasions, but today she simply had to have one. There was nothing else to be done about it. After a week like the one she'd had, she needed something-anything. First that damned Liz had come home for the summer. June had hoped she would travel or work somewhere else. Why hadn't she gone to stay with her father? They could have had a lovely time together. But no, he probably had all the women he could handle in New York. And now, she couldn't be sure, but it seemed that Barbara was spending more and more time with her, probably picking up some of her dirty ideas. But the worst problem of all was Larry Aldrich. June had finally broken it off. How could she build a relationship with a fully impotent man? Why should she be expected to even try? Was she so unattractive that a normal man wouldn't want her? It had been a bad year for June Reynolds: the deeply wounding separation from her husband after his incestuous behavior with their daughter, and then the humiliating affair with Larry Aldrich. She was beginning to feel she had lost all her value as a woman.
"Are you eating with us tonight, Mom?" Barbara asked.
Her mother sat on the living room sofa. She took a long sip of her manhattan before answering her. "Yes, of course I am, why?"
"Is there anything wrong?" Barbara asked. "No," June answered simply.
Liz sat on the other end of the sofa and thought to herself: This is the couch where two days ago I was blowing Bobby just before his girlfriend came over, and I took her upstairs and fucked her with my vibrator. A warm flush went through the dark-haired girl. She looked to her side. Her mother was sitting on just the spot where Liz had taken her little brother's prick in her mouth and sucked it. If she only knew, thought Liz. She smiled as she drank.
During dinner June opened a bottle of wine and finished most of it herself. When the meal ended the first thing she did was head straight to the liquor cabinet. She weaved slightly as she crossed the room and returned with a decanter of cream sherry. She poured a glass for Liz as well as herself.
Barbara excused Bobby and herself right after supper with the statement that they were going to the movies. Since it was Friday night Bobby was allowed to go. Liz had planned to join them, but it was obvious from the conversation that her mother had something she wanted to discuss. Liz felt annoyed that her mother had not spoken to her all week, and now that she wanted to go out, it was impossible. It especially irked Liz because she knew that the other kids had really no intention of going to the movies. The plan had been for them to say that to get Bobby to go with them, and then head for the beach, find a secluded spot, and ball their brother till his brains fell out. He had been depressed lately and certainly needed some cheering up..
Now the plan had been spoiled, so Barbara had to do it alone. Still, Liz snickered to herself, she doesn't seem to mind at all.
Liz took her sherry and joined her mother in the living room. They sat again on the lush sofa-this time their positions were reversed. Liz crossed her long legs, nursed her sherry, and waited for her mother to speak. She was expecting a lecture on staying away from Barbara.
"Don't you ever wear any clothes," June suddenly demanded.
Here it comes, Liz thought. She was scantily dressed as usual in blue jeans which were cut off so close to her crotch a few pubic hairs showed. She also wore a brief halter top of some flimsy material.
"Oh Mother, for Christsake! It's summer. Do you expect me to run around in slacks when it's eighty-five degrees outside? When you sit out by the pool you wear a hell of a lot less than this."
Her mother was not prepared for this quick comeback. Had she been more sober she would have made a mental note that Liz had picked up more than good grades at college-she had obviously returned a much more self-assured young woman. But in her present condition June was not up to a fight. She did not have it in her anyway; it was not her intention to argue, and she silently reprimanded herself for starting off on the wrong foot as well as being half bombed.
"I know it, Liz. I'm sorry I jumped at you."
Now it was Liz's turn to be surprised. This wasn't her mother talking; maybe there was more to this conversation than met the eye.
"What is it, Mother. What's wrong?"
When June lifted her head to answer, Liz could see that tears had already begun to form in her eyes. She moved over next to her mother and put her arms around her. Her mother was crying. In a few moments her wracking sobs had contorted her face into a mask of misery.
"It's all right," Liz soothed, "don't cry now. Come on."
In what was obviously a brave attempt to salvage her sinking pride, June wiped her eyes and sat up straight. But it wasn't that easy to control the force of sadness that gripped her.
"Maybe if I talk about it," she said.
"Of course," Liz said. She felt genuinely sorry for her; no matter what had gone down between them the woman was still her mother after all.
"I've been so sad about your father," June said heavily, sniffling.
Liz froze. She feared a new war was about to break out. June noticed her discomfort.
"Oh, no," she reassured her daughter, "I know now that if what happened hadn't happened then and with you, it would have happened sooner or later with someone else. It wasn't your fault, and I want you to know I don't hold you responsible any more."
Liz didn't know what to say so she just nodded and kept silent. Her mother said nothing for a few moments and then continued.
"Don't you see?" she said desperately, "it was me, my fault. If I had been better for him it wouldn't have happened."
"Now, Mother, we don't know that."
"Of course we do, at least I do." June took a deep breath and began again. "It was the same with Larry, the same cause anyway."
"I don't understand what you're talking about."
June followed her with her eyes; they pleaded with her to understand. Liz wasn't sure she wanted to.
"It's simple," her mother said. "Your father wanted you because I didn't excite him any more."
Liz shook her head. She knew what she had to say.
"Now, Mother-" "No, listen. I had the same problem with Larry, with Mr. Aldrich, except that he was impotent right from the start. I couldn't do anything for him."
"But that's not your fault," Liz said. "There are plenty of guys running around that can't get it up. It's not your fault if the guy you're dating has problems."
"Of course it is," her mother insisted. "Don't you see that if I were really attractive to him his problems wouldn't matter? If I were desirable he would have been able to show it, but he couldn't. We went together for four months and he couldn't. Not once."
"Then why did you go out with him? There was obviously something wrong-" "With me," June finished.
"No!" Liz protested. "Oh, Mother," she said with a long sigh, "what have I done to you."
June had finished her sherry and poured herself another. Half of the glass ended up spilled on the coffee table. Liz looked at her mother as she wiped up the puddle with her handkerchief. Very close to her fortieth birthday, she still did not look a day over thirty-five. She took good care of herself, and it showed. She had kept her figure slim throughout the years and, even though there were more angles now than curves she still, after three children, maintained an appearance at once mature and vivacious. Her face had aged well. As in all attractive older women it had deepened rather than deteriorated. Her dark, almost black hair was streaked with gray and she wore it long to her shoulders. Liz thought she was quite a prize for a mature man or, for that matter, a young man who enjoyed older women. That's when Liz got an idea.
Her mother, having opened her heart, was quiet now as she sipped her sherry. Liz congratulated herself on her wickedness and the plot fell into place in her mind. This would be the most dangerous scheme yet, and it all depended on the extent of her mother's desperation.
"May I ask you a question," Liz said, breaking the silence.
Her mother looked up from her drink. Liz wasn't sure how drunk she was. Drunk enough to confess her troubles, but was she drunk enough to do something about them?
"Why did you tell me all this?"
"Because I knew you would understand. Barbara is too young. She doesn't know anything about sex.'J If you only knew, Liz thought.
"All right," she said aloud. "Then since you value my presence would you value my advice? I think you're wrong. I think you're attractive and I think most men find you attractive and I can prove it to you if you really want to find out."
"I do," June said.
Here it comes, Liz thought.
"What do you think of Carl Aldrich?" she asked.
Her mother looked puzzled. "Barbara's boyfriend?"
"He's not Barbara's boyfriend, Mother, at least not as far as Barbara is concerned."
"He is a nice-looking boy. He seems bright." She was obviously finding it difficult to concentrate on their conversation after a full evening of drinking. , "Well, I happen to know that he's crazy about you, that he thinks you're fantastic and that he's dying to get you in bed."
"Elizabeth!" her mother gasped.
"Well, you asked for my advice. I think you should try him. He may just give you back your self-esteem."
June said nothing. Liz couldn't tell whether she was considering the proposition or simply speechless with surprise.
"You really think he wants me?"
Liz nearly fell over with surprise. In truth, she hadn't really expected her mother to go along with it. She knew now that the woman was very low.
"I know it," Liz assured her. She poured another sherry for her mother and lit a cigarette for each of them.
"I'll have to think about that," June said.
To hell with that, thought Liz, if she thinks about it she'll never go through with it. "Okay, whatever you want," she said. "Will you excuse me for a minute? I have to get more cigarettes from my room."
Her mother made an exaggerated gesture of dismissal as Liz went upstairs. She hurried to the telephone in the master bedroom. She dialed Carl's number. The clock on the wall read eight o'clock.
The phone rang at the Aldrich home and was answered by a male voice.
"Hello, Carl?" Liz said immediately.
"Uh, no. This is Carl's father. Hold on please." It was the first time Liz had ever heard Larry Aldrich's voice. He certainly doesn't sound impotent, she thought. The voice came back on the line. "Can you hold on please? I think he's down in the playroom with his sister."
"Certainly, just tell him it's Liz, please."
"Fine, just a minute."
Again the line was silent. Then Carl's voice came through.
"Hello, Liz?"
"Well, well, well. Down in the playroom with Holly, eh? What's going on over there?"
"Nothing. At least till Dad goes to sleep. I wish to hell he'd take your mother out more often."
"You can forget about that, handsome. They broke up, which brings us to the reason I called."
"They did? Oh, well. What's up?"
"I need your help," Liz said. "You've got to come over right now and make love to my mother."
"What?"
"You heard me. She's very upset and she needs a man."
"You've got to be kidding," Carl said.
"I'm not kidding, I'm asking you to do me a favor."
"No way," Carl said.
"Why not?"
"Why not? Why should I? Why should I go all the way over to your house to ball a forty-year-old woman when I've got a cute little fifteen-year-old right here at home?"
Liz could not believe he was serious. Had she been more rational, she would have realized that Carl had simply fallen into the trap she had succeeded in helping Bobby escape.
"You bastard! If it weren't for me you'd still be chasing my sister, getting nowhere, and beating your own pud in the bathroom to pass the time." "So?" he said calmly.
"So you can forget about ever getting near Barbara or me again," she spat into the phone.
"That's all right. I've got my little Holly to keep me happy."
Liz was furious. All right, she thought, you ungrateful little prick. Here's something that'll take the blood out of your penis.
"And I've got all your grass to keep me happy!"
There was silence on the line.
"What?" Carl said.
"That's right. Check your room. If there aren't six ounces of dope missing I'll eat my vibrator." She heard him throw down the phone and charge up the stairs. Two minutes later he was back, panting.
"You bitch. You goddamned bitch-I'll be right over." He slammed the receiver down and cursed. He went downstairs to the playroom. Holly was bundled up in a terry cloth robe on the studio couch watching television. When she saw Carl she smiled broadly, then frowned as she noticed the look on his face.
"What's wrong?" she asked, brushing her blonde hair carelessly out of her eyes.
He knew he could not tell her the truth; if he did she would insist on going with him, his father would get suspicious, and the whole thing might blow up in his face. "I've got to go out." He winced when he saw her crestfallen expression. "I'm sorry, babydoll, but it's business. A big deal that wasn't supposed to happen until tomorrow. Fucker showed up a day early. I've got to go."
"But Carl," she said, "I was going to put some pills in Daddy's tea again. I thought we could be alone. Billy will be in bed in an hour." Her full lower lip protruded in a provocative pout.
"I know," he said sadly as he pulled on his boots. "Tell you what, I'll see if I can't get back in a couple of hours."
Her face brightened. "Oh, good. I'll wait up for you."
"Good idea," he said, smiling. He stooped and kissed her lightly on the lips. "Keep it warm for me, okay?" He pinched one nipple through the heavy cloth.
Her cheeks blushed around a sweet smile. "I can hardly wait."
Carl went up the stairs and out of the house. As he walked to the Reynolds' home through the tree-lined street, he thought about what he was about to do. Balling with other kids was one thing, but trying to include grown-ups was risky business. Their ideas about things were a lot firmer, and their behavior was strongly set by years of conditioning. There was no way of predicting how they would react to an obvious assault on their so-called values. Carl didn't trust Mrs. Reynolds. And he certainly didn't trust Liz. That horny cunt would probably try to join in. Well, all he could do was make the most of it if it happened. Actually the prospect was not so bleak. He had never screwed a woman as old as June, but he had always wondered what it would be like. Now he was about to find out. At least that was something to look forward to.
He pictured June Reynolds in his mind's eye. He tried to recall every detail he could about her, every line, every curve. By the time he reached her home he'd forgotten all about the marijuana. Liz answered the doorbell.
"Carl, hello. What a nice surprise."
"Hello Liz."
"No, she's not home," Liz improvised. "She took Bobby to the movies. Why don't you come in and have a drink with us?" She spoke as loudly as she could without shouting. She wanted to be sure her mother heard every word. As Liz held the door open for him, Carl passed close by her and whispered, "You bitch." She smiled wickedly and led him into the living room.
"Look who dropped in to see Barbara," Liz said as they entered the room.
June looked up from the sofa. She was totally drunk. It was evident that she had no idea what was happening as Liz poured Carl a drink and engaged him in conversation. After fifteen minutes of Liz and Carl talking to each other politely Carl said, "Ah, shit," and rose to go.
Liz gave him a blistering stare and said, "Aren't you forgetting something?"
Carl knew he was trapped. He turned on Liz violently; he had really been ready for a good time. Now all his frustrations came pouring out. "All right," he said vehemently, "But we do this my way."
Liz shrugged. He walked over to June and said, "Come upstairs, Mrs. Reynolds. There is something I want to show you."
"What? .. . huh? . . ." That was all June could manage.
The young man took her by the wrist and half dragged her up the stairs to her bedroom. Liz followed quietly, amused at the absurdity of the situation.
It was terrible for Carl. He undressed the intoxicated woman himself as she sagged all over the bed. He used cold cream from her nightstand to lubricate his prick. And when he entered she was cold as a clam.
All the value in the experience-the woman's age and maturity, her unquestionable attractiveness, the fact that she had been his father's mistress-all those elements that would have made this one of the most memorable sex acts in his life were spoiled by her humiliating drunkenness. When he came it was only by fantasizing he was in his own bed with his own sister. June had long since passed out.
Carl hadn't even taken off his shirt. After he pulled on his pants Liz handed him his grass and he left without a word.
Four hours later, around midnight, Liz was reading a slim volume by a single lamp in the living room when her mother came down the stairs. She put down her book as her mother sat beside her on the sofa. June had put on a sheer dressing-gown to cover her nude body, but her hair was still disheveled from the episode.
"What time is it?" June asked, brushing her hair back with one hand.
"Around twelve," Liz said quietly. "I didn't expect to see you until morning."
June grimaced at this reminder of her suffering. She had a massive hangover.
"What are you reading?" she asked her daughter.
Liz smiled to herself. Mother always tried to instill a sense of culture into her children, she thought. "A short novel by Andre Gide. The Immoralist."
June's lips formed a smirk. "Sounds like a good title for my behavior tonight," she said.
The conversation lulled. Liz lit a cigarette. "I'm having coffee, would you like a cup?" she asked.
"Please."
Liz went into the kitchen and returned with two cups of black coffee. "Feeling guilty?" she asked.
"A little," June admitted. "But mostly I feel-I don't understand it-relieved."
Liz raised her eyebrows as she drank.
"I know," June continued. "I'm surprised myself. Actually I'm confused, too. What really happened?"
Liz was prepared for this. "I don't know all the details, of course, but after Carl came over I went into the kitchen for another glass. When I came back you had taken him upstairs. I was down here the whole time so I really can't say, but it sounded as if you both had a very good time."
"I wish I could remember," June said, shaking her head.
Liz put her cup down and took her mother's hand. In spite of her lies she had never felt this close to her mother in her entire life.
"It's over now and done with. It's best to forget the past and just be happy with whatever it has given you. By deliberately going against what you thought you believed, you have earned a measure of freedom that is invaluable. We should never feel guilty for sinning against laws that others set down for us to live by."
June looked lovingly into her daughter's eyes. "I was very wrong about you," she said. "You have grown up a great deal. And, do you know, I haven't felt this close to another woman in years. I only wish your father were here to enjoy what we have now."
Liz smiled and kissed her mother's soft lips. Then she led her, arm in arm, up the staircase.
That night June Reynolds learned many things from her daughter, including the touch and taste of another woman.
Chapter Eleven
Unfortunately for Carl as he left the Reynolds' home, he ran into some friends on the street. They insisted he arrange a cocaine deal for them immediately. He tried to dissuade them, but since they were regular customers in his grass trade, he was forced to oblige. They drove him downtown and he didn't get home until two o'clock in the morning.
In the meantime Holly wanted to get laid. It was Friday night; she had skipped what had promised to be a great party to stay home with Carl, and now she was stuck watching television with only her fingers for company.
What in the world could she do? She knew intuitively that Carl would not be home undl much later than he'd said. Maybe she could go to the party? No, her father would never allow her to go out alone at, what was it, ten o'clock at night. That left only one choice: Billy. He was probably already asleep, but if he was not the evening might yet be salvaged.
Besides, it was kind of spooky down in the playroom all by herself.
She pulled her fingers out of her cunt and switched off the television. As she mounted the stairs she tugged her bathrobe tight around her-she was nude beneath.
Her father was, as usual, seated in his reading chair as she passed the living room on her way to the second floor. The door to her litde brother's room was closed; she opened it and peered inside: alseep, dammit! Oh, well, she thought, it wasn't a good idea anyway, not with Daddy home. As she turned to go her eyes focused on something strange: the corner of a book was peeking out from under Billy's bed. Holly had never seen him read a book of his own free will in her whole life. Her curiosity aroused, she opened the door just enough to allow her to slip in and take the book from its hiding place. Then she glided out into the hall and shut the door.
The hallway was dimly lit, but she could just make out the printing on the paperback cover: Harem of Daughters; the author was Leon Twatsky. It was a few moments before she was struck by the implications of the title. So little Billy was reading porno books!
Holly was so delighted with her discovery that she almost laughed aloud, but she caught herself. She didn't want to wake him; he mustn't know she'd found out. Still, she had to share her secret with someone. A devilish idea struck her-maybe her bookworm father would be interested.
She hurried downstairs to the living room. Larry looked up and smiled when she came into the room. He was mildly surprised to see her carrying a book, but decided not to press the point. He had tried to instill a passion for reading in his children, but he had to concede failure with them all. Now he thought it better to let them discover it on their own, without paternal pressure. He reasoned that the interests his children cultivated on their own would be more likely to stay with them for life than those forced upon them through his insistence.
"Hello Daddy, want some company?"
"Sure do," he said warmly. "Did Carl go out?" She frowned at him. On her young, pretty face the expression seemed as artificial as a mask.
"Oh, come on now," he scolded. "Can't we have a good time without him?"
A quick smile flashed across her face as she discerned the unintended double meaning of his words.
"That's better. Now, what shall we talk about?" He put down his book. Holly sat cross-legged on the couch without bothering to pull her robe down to cover her soft thighs. She did not fail to notice his glance as his eyes moved swiftly over her naked legs and up towards her half concealed pubis.
"Why don't you tell me what you're reading?" she asked.
This was a pleasant surprise. He picked up the heavy volume again and studied it seriously. "Well, this is the first volume in a three-part biography of Leon Trotsky." He looked at her. She was smiling mysteriously. "Do you know who he was?"
"Sure, he was a Communist, right?"
Her father chuckled. "Yes, he was, but he was more than just a Communist. He was one of the key participants in the Russian Revolution. He was also the organizer of the Red Army in the Soviet Union. A very important man in our century," he concluded, putting down the massive tome.
"Are you a Communist, Daddy?" Holly asked.
Larry was amused. "No, I'm not. But I want you to remember two things: first of all, if a person reads someone's books it doesn't necessarily mean they agree with them, and secondly, a person doesn't have to agree with you in order to be important to History."
He said history with a capital H. Here I am lecturing again, he thought.
"I know that," she said, trying to keep a straight face.
"I know that you do, but a lot of people don't. You'd be surprised how many people don't."
Holly almost said, "Then go tell them, asshole." But instead she said, "Did Leon Trotsky ever write any books?"
"I assume so," her father said.
"Any novels?"
He frowned. "I don't think he wrote any novels ..."
"What about this?" she asked, handing him the paperback. Larry looked at her book and then at his daughter. He took a second look at the book and said incredulously, "Where in the world did you get this?"
"I found it," Holly said. She smiled widely. The light of his reading lamp reflected the white gleam of her perfect teeth. "But where?"
"In Billy's room." She spread her knees a little farther. She was sure he could see her cunt now. The revelation sent a shrill note of excitement through her. A cold shiver raced from the top of her spine to the base. She twitched her hips slightly, uncontrollably. She felt the walls of her anus flutter as if caressed by a hundred butterflies.
He stared openly between her legs, his eyes riveted to the spot as the blood pounded through his penis like hot bolts.
They continued to speak, but their dialogue was secondary to the other drama they performed. They spoke like hypnotics, their minds mesmerized by the immensity and the immediacy of their desire.
"Isn't that by Leon Twatsky?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Not the same guy," he answered inaudibly. The humor of the coincidence was totally lost on him now. He stared lewdly at the dark valley between her legs. The position she was in revealed everything: her hair, her lips, even her asshole. He could see the tiny lips twitching. She reached down and raised the edge of her robe, exposing all of her, right up to her petite breasts. She loosened the belt and drew open the garment. His eyes swam over her every treasure: her sweet little tits tipped with rust-colored nipples, the soft line of golden down lightly tufting her flat tummy, and her nearly hairless pussy. The skin was clean and white right up to the lips. The fat ridges were polished pinkish-brown over the deep red chink of her cunt; its very walls glistened with sweet moisture.
She basked in the glow of his gaze as his appreciating eyes explored every inch of her tanned form. The liquid of love began to drip between her legs. She never thought she could get this turned on without touching anyone.
Her father gripped the arms of his chair and stared. Not once did he think to scold her or stop her. His reaction was a spontaneous, undeniable arousal. His prick was hard as an iron bar and throbbing with life.
His prick followed her up as she rose from the couch. She was only five feet two inches tall, but right now she felt all woman. She stood directly in front of him and went down on her knees. He sat and watched her, dumbfounded.
"I'd like to give you head, Daddy, okay?" she purred.
She pushed him firmly back in the chair and put both hands on his fly. She lightly ran her hands up and down the coarse fabric. Her fingers felt the straining surge of his cock through the cloth.
Her touch was almost cool on his burning loins. Then, when she loosened his zipper, he caught fire again.
As she opened his fly his prick leapt up like a flame. "MMMMMmmmmm. That looks awfully tasty," she murmured.
She fingered the fiery manhood. She glided her hands up and down its hot, red length.
"It looks so painful," she said soothingly. "Shall I kiss it and make it better?"
Larry was oblivious to his daughter's words. His entire being was centered around the cock which she held in her two hands. He could no more than moan aloud to each caress. He was moaning constantly now as she took him in both fists and began to pump his organ with two hands.
"Oh, my Lord...."
Holly looked up from his beaten member and smiled. "Do you like it?" she asked innocently.
He did not answer. His mouth was open and his tongue hung out, gasping for breath as she attacked below.
His cock was so hard it pressed up against his stomach. She pulled it gently away from his abdomen and put her mouth on it. Her warm lips closed over its head. Captured. Now he could not escape her. Now she was sure she would have his come. Her tongue wound sensuously around the tip of his dick, then slid down as she took him into her. Larry thought his heart would come out his mouth when he felt her lips close over the base of his prick, his cock-head resting firmly against the back of her throat.
She drew her head back slowly and pushed down again, this time striking his cock-head sharply against the roof of her mouth. Again. Again. Soon she was stabbing his penis into her with such force that it hurt.
She held his prick with one hand and teased his balls with the other. Each time she crushed her face down on him, he could feel his organ swallowed up in her wet mouth. As she drew back, her teeth grated against his raw flesh. The pain was exquisite.
She went on sucking. He put his hands on her head and drew back her long blonde hair. Now he could see her whole face. She was a beautiful girl. Her eyes were closed; she had totally surrendered herself to his pleasure. Her pretty red lips were split by a gaping hole into which disappeared his bursting member.
Slurping saliva sounds echoed his deep, throaty moans.
She slobbered all over him. The taste of his cock made her mouth water for more.
He felt himself beginning to come.
He could not believe it. Like a man nearing death his life appeared before him in a flash. He remembered the women he had known: Ellen, his wife, married at twenty-two, both virgins, very much in love, faithful to her for sixteen years, until she died-and afterward the other women, and his impotence-Marcia, his secretary, Eileen and Betsy from the yacht club, Andrea, his best friend's wife, and June Reynolds, the one he thought would be really different. But no, he'd been impotent with her, too. He recalled the sighs, the frowns, the looks of disappointment, the emotions which flagged each time with the strength of his penis. And the rancor, the bitterness, the name-calling. And the shame, the apologies in the dark, the heartbreaking attempts. And all for nothing-for women who knew only how to make demands.
But this was different. This girl, this special girl, his own little girl, was redeeming the soul of his manhood with each suck of her little mouth, and it was as a man revenged on his own fate that Larry fired his sperm down the throat of his daughter.
She sat back on her knees and smiled blissfully. She looked at her father with happy, loving eyes. With the back of her hand she wiped away some semen that had leaked out on her lips.
"Was that a good blow-job, Daddy?" she asked. Her inflection was the same as if she'd asked him if he wanted dessert with his dinner. He studied her naked figure, her tiny tits.
His answer was to stand and draw her to her feet. Then he leaned down and planted a deep kiss on her open lips. She stood on tiptoes and threw her arms around her father's neck. Their tongues met.
For five full minutes Larry kissed his daughter's delicious lips. He was bursting with desire and gratitude. She squirmed in his arms and kissed him back.
When they finally parted Holly put her finger to her lips and giggled. "Wow Daddy, you've sure got a nice tongue."
Her father smiled inscrutably. For the first time in a long time he felt like a real man, and, like any man, his first thought was to please his woman.
"If you think that was nice, wait till you see what else it can do." He spun around and placed Holly in his chair. He kneeled between her outstretched legs, just the way she had kneeled before him.
He drank in the sweet smell that rose from her open vulva. He caressed each thigh with one hand, then lifted them and hung her legs over the cushioned arms of the chair. Holly, her legs spread wide, sank down in the pillowed seat and raised her crotch towards his face. He put one hand under each buttock and pulled her up to him. He nuzzled into the young flesh. His tongue surrounded her silvery snatch in one long sweep. Then he kissed the very top of her cunt and said: "See if you like this, sexy."
He dragged his tongue down over the entire length of her cunt-lips, over the dark, flat flesh below to the hole in her bottom. He stiffened his tongue and drove it deep into her exposed anus. He heard her muffled groan as he tickled her rectal walls a good two inches inside the ring of her sphincters. He let his tongue slip out and then pushed it in again. There was an odd flavor inside. No matter. His head reeled with drunkenness as he breathed in the heavy fragrance of perfume mixed with the scent of shit. He had never smelled anything so exciting before. He found himself tonguing her anus madly, screwing his tongue in and out of her raw, open hole.
Holly went crazy. She put one hand on the back of his head to plunge his face even farther into her forbidden entrance. With the other hand on his forehead, she held his hair out of the way so she could watch his long pink tongue as it reamed her asshole. At the same time she frigged her clit hotly.
It didn't take long for the double pleasure to bring the liquor of love down on her father's face. But now her clit was aroused-she wanted more.
"Suck my cunt now, please Daddy!" she begged.
He swallowed down the last drops of her come and placed a farewell kiss on her fresh-cleaned anus. He pulled back for a moment to try to clear his head. He was dead-drunk on the sweet wine that seeped down between her legs. One look at the spot before his eyes and he gave up all hope of regaining his equilibrium. Her entire crotch was stretched out in front of him. His eyes wandered with fascination up and down the length of the dark furrow-not dark really, but tinged with a deeper pink than the surrounding skin of her thighs. The outer lips of her pussy were split wide in welcome. He leaned forward and nibbled on their soft looseness.
"Oh Daddy," she giggled, running her fingers through the hair on his head.
Her inner lips were very red and wet-looking. He pressed in farther and got his tongue between them. His tongue found its way to the top of her vagina. There, in plain view, was her little clitoris. He thought it looked like a tiny upsidedown ice cream cone. He put his mouth over it and caught it between his lips. He held it firmly and tickled its tip with the end of his tongue.
"Oh . . . oh . . . oh . . ." Within seconds she was heaving with excitement. She crossed her legs around his head and held him tightly with both hands. He teased her sex-stick mercilessly, clamping down hard on the organ with his strong lips. He felt confident and sure of himself; this was one act he knew he was good at. After all, he had used it for years to satisfy the women he could never fuck. Now he would use it to satisfy Holly. He held her up with all his strength and crushed his face into his daughter's cunt until he thought he would faint for air.
He worked and worked his tormenting tongue until a final flick brought Holly to the brink.
"Oh ... Ah ... Da. .. . DDDDDAAAAADDDD-DDDDDD Y Y Y Y Y!!!!!!"
And his face was smeared with the sweet come from his daughter's cunt.
Chapter Twelve
Liz, lost in that twilight world between sleep and awakening, dreamed she was wandering through a dense forest. A summer shower had just ended; everything was wet. She ducked between rain-laden branches as twigs bent beneath her bare feet in the soggy earth. She felt peaceful and free-her heart liberated from the burden of some heavy load. The last drops were falling from the trees. All around her the woods was coming back to life after the soaking storm.
She opened her eyes and bright daylight filled her head. She blinked at the glare of the morning sun as it poured in through the open bay windows. She must be in her mother's room. An unfamiliar touch brought her to full consciousness. Her mother was sitting on the edge of the bed in a silk nightgown, leaning over, skirting her lips lightly over Liz's lower abdomen. The daughter yawned and stretched her arms high over her head. June sat up and smiled at her, her freshly applied lipstick smeared all over her cheeks and chin from contact with the warm pubis of the young girl.
"MMmmm," June murmured, "if I'd known you tasted this good all these years I would have started doing this long ago."
Liz echoed her smile. "You mean you've been with women before, Mother?"
June winked slyly. Then: "Of course, that was before I met your father."
"Of course," Liz said.
They both giggled like schoolgirls sharing a secret.
"Then you weren't a virgin when you married Dad?"
June put on a mask of astonishment. "Certainly I was a virgin-with men." A pause. "But you must remember I went to boarding schools dll I was your age. No coeducation for my father and mother. For twelve years it was girls, girls, girls."
"Sounds wonderful," Liz said.
"Well, I never suffered from lack of friends, but when I met your father, and he showed me what sex with a man could be like, I just lost interest in the other thing. That is, until now."
Liz reached up and loosened the shoulder straps of her mother's nightgown. The soft cloud of silk fell to the top of her bosom and stayed there, sustained by the swelling of her separate breasts, like a cloak of cloud wrapped around the shoulders of twin mountain peaks. June hefted the heavy hills in her hands and smiled proudly into her daughter's approving eyes.
"No, no. Stop. We can't. We had better behave ourselves. Bobby and Barbara will be up any minute."
"So?" Liz said.
Her mother shook her head. "I don't want them to find out about this. Promise me you won't tell them."
Liz considered arguing the point, but thought better of it. This sounds like the conversation I had with Dad the day all our problems began, she thought; these two really ought to get together. Then she was hit by her best idea yet. Why not? Why shouldn't they get together-really?
She broke into a wide grin as she suddenly comprehended the enigmatic cause of all the events of her first week home from college. She understood why she had not even considered spending her vacation somewhere else; she must have known, unconsciously, that it was her obligation to bring into being what was meant to occur: the reconciliation of her parents. Her heart overflowed with happiness at the reaUzation that it was her destiny to set right the tranquillity she had helped to destroy. She was a woman in league with the gods.
She jumped out of bed and kissed her mother in the grip of emotions that nearly strangled her words in her throat.
"I promise. Oh, I promise!"
June, startled by this outburst, said, "Where are you going?"
"To New York!"
"New York, what for?" June asked.
Thinking quickly, Liz answered, "I simply have to buy a new dress to celebrate my welcome home. Why don't you come with me?"
But June had other ideas. "No, I think not, but why don't you take Barbara with you. You could both get something nice."
"Good idea!"
Liz hurried to her room to rouse her sleeping sister. "Get up," she said, "we're going shopping."
"Shopping, what for?" the yawning redhead asked.
"Never mind. Just get dressed. We're going to have ourselves the best Saturday night ever!"
On the Expressway, racing along at seventy miles an hour, fifteen yards behind the car in front of them, Liz explained: "It all reasons out, Barbara, You and Bobby and Mother all involved with the Aldriches-all progressing unknowingly towards the inevitable conclusion-moth- er's acknowledgement of her own sexuality. Inevitable, that is, once I came into the picture and upset the neady arranged, socially acceptable distinctions of age and gender."
Barbara was shaking her head.
"Don't you understand?" Liz went on. "We must have known it all the time, in the back of our minds. That's what caused me to seduce Bobby and you, and then Holly and Carl and finally Mother. And that's what caused you all to go along with it."
"It wasn't just sex?" the redhead asked.
"Sex is just the way it manifested itself," Liz said emphatically. "The agent it employed was to achieve its aims, like a pornographic story that is about more than just sex."
Barbara began to comprehend. "And," Liz continued, "the truly startling thing is that none of this could have been brought to its desired end without a confrontation between Mother and Dad, an event we will bring about only because we realize it must take place in order for the grand design to be fulfilled. Do you recognize the significance of that?"
Her sister was about to respond when Liz spotted a hitchhiker on the side of the crowded highway, thumbing desperately. The brunette eased the car over into the right lane and then off onto the shoulder, bringing the big Chevy to a stop about thirty yards past the running girl.
Liz blew the horn and waited for her to catch up. Barbara looked at her sister, her expression registering the effort she was making to keep pace with Liz's reasoning, and said, "But Liz, what about Billy Aldrich? He doesn't have anything to do with anything."
Her sister was too busy watching the traffic zoom by to respond. The hitchhiker jumped into the back seat and they sped off.
"Say, thanks a lot. I didn't think anybody was going to stop on this goddamned road. I've been standing there over an hour at least." Her breathlessness didn't seem to affect her ability to talk.
Barbara sat sideways in the front seat and looked at the girl. She was her age, probably a year younger. She had a very pretty face, her upturned nose and large eyes making her resemble Holly somewhat. Her curly, light-brown hair was teased into an Afro style, framing her face and creating the illusion of a halo encircling her angelic countenance.
"Why in the world were you hitching on the Long Island Expressway?" Barbara asked.
"I didn't start hitching there. I started back about twenty miles in Babylon. This guy picked me up right away, an old guy, about fifty, and half the way into the city everything's cool. Then, all of a sudden, he puts his hand in my lap and says how about it, will I spend the day with him in his hotel. He offered me twenty bucks."
"What did you say?" Liz asked.
"I told him it would cost him a hundred," the girl laughed.
"My kind of girl," Liz said.
"What did he say?" Barbara said.
The girl laughed again. "He said I obviously didn't know anything about hooking. That my price was way out of line. His ego was so hurt he didn't even realize I was only bullshitting him. I didn't care about the money. If he was cool I would have balled him, but he was just a creep."
Barbara was intrigued. "What would you have done if he had paid you the hundred dollars?"
"I would have done it," the girl said immediately. "If there's one thing I don't have it's morals. I can't be bothered with petty, middle class values."
Liz interrupted. "Don't you place any value on your own body?"
The girl was quiet for a minute. "What the hell kind of question is that?" "Just asking," said Liz.
The girl was insulted. "Well, I place a lot of value on my body. And you know why? Because every guy I ever balled has said that I'm the best piece of ass he ever had. Every time I turn around there's another guy who wants to make it with me. And you know why? Because I let them do whatever they like. I let them fuck me, suck me, beat me and eat me. I let them dress me up or strip me down anytime they like. I've been come on, pissed on, shit on and even barfed on by the drunk ones. And they always come back for more, because they're turned on that a chick as young and sweet-looking as me can be as raunchy as I can be."
Liz caught her eye in the rear-view mirror.
"I'm shocked," she said sarcastically.
The newcomer suddenly laughed aloud. "Okay," she said, "so it didn't work this time, but usually that speech shoots people down so fast they just shut their mouths and leave me alone."
Barbara shook her head as if to clear it. "Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?"
Her sister smiled. "Baby, it's just when one sex-143 ually-liberated person meets another, they can usually tell right away."
"Are you two sisters?" the girl said. "Wow, that's nice." She said to Liz, "It must be terrific having a nice piece of pussy around the house to suck on."
Liz nodded. "It is."
Barbara blushed. She was beginning to enjoy the conversation. "It's also nice to have an understanding sister to drive the car while you play around with someone in the back seat."
The girl opened her arms in welcome and Barbara climbed over the seat to join her. Within seconds they had stripped off their clothes and were rolling around in ecstasy. Liz tried to keep her eye on the road, but it wasn't easy. She tilted the rear-view mirror to reflect not the traffic behind but the image of her sister sixty-nining with the strange girl. The brown-haired girl was on the top, and Liz could see her entire body from the rear. She was a naturally thin girl, but her back and bottom were even farther emaciated. Drugs, probably. Nowadays, what else? It was the same old story and it made Liz sick. Sure, she smoked grass, but marijuana was like candy compared to the real drugs. And even as far as grass was concerned, Liz would rather suck on a new man than a new joint. Reality, to this not unintelligent nineteen-year-old, was sex. If you liked sex you liked reality, and if you liked reality you didn't have to escape from it.
It's all very logical, she mused.
She glanced into the mirror again. Now Barbara was on top. Liz felt the warmth of kinship spread through her when she recognized the round cheeks of Barbara's moonlike ass. It stood out against her tanned legs and back like a full, white moon in the dim evening sky.
She felt the warm tingling sensations of arousal, too. Her hand opened the fly of her slacks and lost itself amid the humid hairs of her cunt-swamp. She stabbed rapidly into the mud-thick mess of flesh.
The rhythm of the road going by beneath the car reverberated through her; the hot blood running in her veins echoed the rising tide of orgasm. With one hand on the wheel and the other on her clit, she tried to watch the lesbian lewdness in the back seat while keeping the vehicle going without billing them all.
Barbara and the unknown girl were free from any knowledge of danger. Their fingers and tongues explored an undiscovered world where skin was ground and everything smelled of cunt. The brown-haired girl had succeeded in stimulating the redhead by tonguing her clitoris and thrusting her nose up her ass. Barbara tried not to come-the contrast between the girl's angel looks and slut manners excited her, and she wanted their cunnilingus to last as long as possible.
She was to be frustrated in that desire at the moment she was gratified by the more physical one. After five minutes of crushing her face up into Barbara's wide-open crotch, the young stranger sucked down a whole quart of viscous fluid. Barbara went into a long, shuddering orgasm and tried to sink her whole head into her girl-partner's love-cave. She drilled her tongue deep into the young woman's well until she struck oil, and a gusher of ejaculate filled her mouth.
Coming onto a straight stretch of highway, Liz held the steering wheel between her knees and poked both hands into her exposed lap. The sounds of the two playmates reaching orgasm, slurping and sighing in their ecstasy, filled her ears with the music she liked to hear, and after a long, hazardous moment when she almost lost control of the car, righted it and put both hands back in her cunt. A shivering spasm sent sympathetic girl-sperm all over her cupped palms.
Liz came to her senses and got control of the car once more. She wiped her forehead in a gesture of concern and said, "Whew! That was a close one. You two better behave yourselves or you'll get me so excited I'll get us all killed."
The two girls in the back seat sat up, their arms around each other, their faces dazed.
"Oh," Barbara said, "I forgot we were in the car."
"Me too," said the brown-haired girl. "It's been a long time since I made it in the back seat of a car."
They all laughed at the allusion to common experience.
"You two get your clothes on and come up here with me," Liz said. "I'm getting lonely all by myself."
They did. Soon all three girls were in the front seat, Liz driving, Barbara on the passenger side, the new girl in the middle where they could both reach her, each one's hands on her neighbor's thigh.
They rode that way into the city. Liz and Barbara told their story to the girl, whose name was Manda, and she listened, enraptured by the tale.
"That's quite a story," she said when they had finished, "but I have one question."
"Shoot," Liz said.
"Well, in this supposed predetermined scheme of things, where do I come in?"
Liz was amused. "Your existence in this automobile is the simple consequence of human will."
"Oh, thanks a lot," Manda feigned insult.
"Look at it this way," Liz went on. "If I had not discovered the hidden intention of our actions, my sister and I would have stayed home today, you would have waited longer for a ride, and none of us would have had the nice orgasms we just enjoyed."
Manda was nodding as she spoke. Barbara was busy flirting with two boys in the next car.
"Shall we try them?" Liz asked.
Her sister shook her head. "I can't wait to see Daddy."
Liz agreed. "Not too disappointed, are you Manda?"
The girl shook her head. "I've got to get down to the West Village as soon as possible. There's a photographer there who wants to shoot me in the nude."
"I'd love to see that," Liz said.
Manda moved her hand up into the brunette's lap and squeezed her through her slacks. "I'll send you some pictures."
"Remember, that's a promise."
After giving Manda their address and phone number, Liz and Barbara dropped her off and headed uptown to their father's West Side apartment.
It had been quite a night for Martin Reynolds. His job as a corporate lawyer for a New York brokerage firm kept him busy; during the past two weeks alone he had been sent to California three times. Just yesterday he was informed, on arriving at the office, that he had to catch the 10:30 a.m. flight to Atlanta in order to clarify the legal aspects of a new investment package to a prospective client. He performed his responsibilities in that city and caught the first flight back-there were places he would rather be in June than the South, like in his own air-conditioned apartment overlooking the Hudson, with a tall, cool drink in one hand and a tall, cool woman in the other.
In the nine months since his wife threw him out, Martin had met and made a large variety of urban females: secretaries, models, widowed clients, ladies of leisure-in fact, during the winter of his exile, after the initial feelings of loss and loneliness were replaced by the determination to survive emotionally, he found that the city afforded an inexhaustable assortment of sensual experiences.
Denise was one of these. He met her on his return flight to La Guardia. He knew he wanted her the first time he saw her, saw her moving away from him up the narrow aisle of the 727, her mobile hips and perky ass confined in the tight-fitting miniskirt of her blue stewardess uniform. At the head of the cabin she turned and spoke to one of the seated passengers, and Martin got a good look at her face. She was a classic beauty. Her natural blonde hair was pulled back to heighten the impact of her striking features; her perfectly applied make-up added just the right touch of color to her flawless complexion; her eyes expressed simultaneously the warmth of sensuousness and a cool aloofness.
Martin was amazed that he picked her up so easily.
They went to the airport bar and then to his apartment. She cooked them dinner and told him the story of her life. He fed her daiquiris and took her to bed. In the morning they showered together, then she left, promising to call the next time she was in town. He knew he'd never see her again.
He considered driving up to Connecticut to play golf with friends. As he picked up the phone the doorbell rang.
"Well, hello, hello. Come in, come in," he said, embracing his daughters.
"Hello Daddy! I'm so glad to see you," Barbara said, hugging him.
Liz put both hands against his chest and kissed him on the mouth. "Hello Father," she said coolly, "long time no talk to."
Her father was cut by the remark. He looked at her sheepishly. He knew to what she was referring. After he had moved into the city she had called him a few times from college and asked if she could visit him. Not wishing to worsen an already bad situation he'd refused, each time using the pressures of business as a flimsy excuse. He knew he'd been right in doing what he'd done, but he could well understand that Liz needed him and would not be able to comprehend his actions. He felt bad for that.
Barbara bombed around the apartment, investigating every corner of the place while Liz opened the curtains and looked out on the river view.
"Very impressive," she said, "but it must get lonely here."
Martin smiled at his elder daughter. "I have company occasionally," he said.
Barbara came back into the living room. "I'll bet you do. I'll bet you make out like mad in a place like this."
He brought lemonade from the kitchen and poured them each a tall glass. "Now girls, let's leave the old man alone, shall we? We haven't seen each other in months, I'm sure there are more important things to talk about."
"What's more important than sex?" Barbara said. "I said let's drop it!" her father said sternly. The redhead's face fell about a foot and a half. "I'm sorry kitten, I guess I'm just a little touchy this morning." Out of the corner of his eye he could see Liz watching him, silently.
"Okay, Daddy, I guess this must be quite a surprise for you. Maybe we should have called first. I hope we didn't spoil your golf day, or anything."
"Don't be silly," he said, smiling again. "There isn't anything I'd rather do than talk to you two."
Except one thing, thought Liz.
"How's school?" he asked.
"Oh, great! It's all over for the year," Barbara replied.
"How did you do?"
"Well, pretty good. Not as good as Liz-she was on the Dean's List all year-but better than last year."
Martin winked at Barbara. "That a girl. Keep up the good work." He turned to his elder daughter. "And you, who said you're supposed to be so smart?"
Liz decided to play the game for a while. She smiled. "Well, everyone always said I got my looks from Mother and my brains from you."
Martin flushed momentarily with pride. Then: "How is your mother?"
Liz's smile was authentic now. "Oh, she's just fine," she said mysteriously. Barbara, knowing what had oc- curred the night before between Liz and her mother, blushed.
"What do you mean by that?" Martin asked, nonplussed by this unexpected response.
Barbara, as previously instructed by her sister, kept silent. Liz explained: "Nothing at all, in fact she's been so busy lately she went up to Newport this weekend to visit Grandma and have a little peace and quiet."
"You mean she left you kids alone?"
Liz smiled. "You know, Dad, we are capable of taking care of ourselves."
"What do you mean she's been busy lately, doing what?" Martin's daughters had him in a real quandary.
"Well, working, of course. And socializing."
"Socializing?"
"Going out with men," she said finally. She congratulated herself on delivering the blow so expertly. "Well, you don't expect the poor woman to throw her love life out the window at the age of forty, do you?"
Martin now realized that in the nine months he had been separated from his wife he had never once considered what her life might have become. Now he saw it; what had happened to him could just as easily have happened to her-she, too, might be involved in cheap, easy affairs with total strangers. He envisioned the things that other men might be doing with her; it filled him with disgust. This reaction surprised him, too. He thought: I really must love her.
At that moment he realized how much he despised a life of temporary intimacy.
"Anyway," Liz continued, "that brings us to the reason your number two daughter and I are here. Now that Mother is away and the coast is clear, we thought you might like to come out and stay at the house this weekend. It would be a terrific thrill for Bobby."
"When will your mother be home?" Mardn asked.
"Sunday night, late," Liz lied.
Martin thought: I'll spend some time with the kids, and then I'll see June when she gets back. If she throws me out again I'll just come back here. It's worth a try.
"All right," he said, standing suddenly and slapping his hands on his thighs. "I'll throw some things in a bag and be right with you. Then I'm taking the two of you to lunch in the best restaurant in New York!"
Barbara clapped her hands with joy. Liz smiled triumphantly.
In the bedroom Martin packed his overnight case quickly, haphazardly. He threw on his sport coat. As he took his wallet from the dresser, a white card fell out of it. He looked at it. It read: Denise Bennett. 400 East 75th St. New York. 789-6969. There was a postscript: Call me, anytime.
He thought about the night he had had. He thought about all the nights of the past nine months. He thought about June. He tore the card in two, threw it in the wastebasket, and walked out of the room.
Chapter Thirteen
Contrary to the facts related to Martin by his scheming daughter, the idea of going to Rhode Island to visit her mother never entered June's mind.
She spent the better part of the morning on the telephone. Each of her closest friends met a new June Reynolds that day. The dark clouds that for nine months hung low over her life had been dissipated by a fresh, breezy indifference towards her future. She seemed to know that everything was going to improve. What had caused it, they wondered. A new man? A few of them asked her, but she was vague in her response. Pressed further, she made it quite clear she would not divulge the secret of her newly found peace of mind. One or two grew angry with her-she laughed it off. There seemed to be no weapon able to pierce the armor of her good humor.
She fixed herself a light breakfast and took a long, leisurely bath. Stepping out of the tub she dried herself quickly, then removed the towel in order to admire her naked figure in the full-length mirror. She was proud of her body. Why shouldn't she be? When she'd removed her nightgown the night before, hadn't her own daughter emitted a low, naughty whistie of approval? After they had masturbated each other, Liz had told her how all the girls her age who were into bisexuality would do anything for a lover of her looks and maturity. The possibilities seemed endless-June could occupy herself with young girls, Liz had promised to introduce her to dozens of them, or she could resume her affair with the young Carl Aldrich. This pleased her; she would enjoy the opportunity to get back at that weak-pricked Larry, and what better way than to throw him over for his son?
Whichever path she took, boys or girls (or perhaps both!)
June knew that the near future held many experiences, many ecstasies she would have never known without the help and love of her elder daughter. I must remember to thank her again tonight, June thought, licking her lips.
She went into her bedroom and selected her briefest bikini from her wardrobe. It was a white nylon 'string' type: the new style that had just come in from Rio and was the new rage on all the beaches. June was glad she had worked so hard to keep her figure all these years-a woman had to have a very good body to get away with wearing these bathing suits. She checked herself again in the mirror: nice. She felt twenty years younger. She giggled to herself; when she had bought the suit, her only reason had been that it was perfect for sunbathing, since it covered almost nothing but her nipples and her lower cracks; at the time she hadn't even considered using it for seduction purposes, but that was exactly what she had in mind now as she winked at herself in the mirror and went out to the pool in the backyard.
The idea had come to her immediately upon hearing of Liz's plans to go into the city. It was why June had been so enthusiastic for both her daughters to go: she wanted to be alone in the house with her son Bobby.
At first she was shocked that she could even consider it, but it hadn't taken long for her to see both sides of the question. It was true that the act she contemplated was branded as a crime even worse than murder in all the societies of the world, but that did not reduce the significance of the fundamental question: was it really so bad? Hadn't she already slept with her own daughter? Hadn't they both escaped unscathed? Could it be that lesbian incest was less dangerous than the heterosexual variety? The questions were endless. June dismissed them with a wave of her hand. Enough. She would do it and that was that.
Actually June Reynolds' irresistable determination to seduce her son had its genesis not in logic or passion, but in an emotional response. The night before, in the middle of their post-coital conversation, with her mother's lips lightly kissing her open thighs, Liz had made an offhand remark concerning evidence that her brother was becoming homosexual. June, horrified by the possibility, but careful to keep her reaction to herself, suggested that perhaps Liz could do something about it. The girl refused, insisting that sex with her brother would destroy her sanity. June thought her daughter's fears rang a little false, but there was nothing she could do-Liz was adamant. So it was up to June. She accepted the responsibility silently; like most women she was a good martyr. And as the time grew nearer, she looked forward more and more eagerly to her sacrifice. Liz had worked her magic once more.
June spread a beach towel on the ground and stretched out beside the pool. The sun began to bake its warmth into her golden-brown skin. She would lie here quietly, and wait for Bobby to come down from the house.
Bobby woke up with an ache in his cock. He smiled to himself when he remembered what caused it.
"What movie are we going to see?" he had asked Barbara the night before as they drove into town, the top down on the car, the sun setting, her long red hair blowing in the wind. She did not answer him. He thought that was pretty strange, but then maybe she hadn't heard him. Yet he knew something unusual was happening when they drove right past the movie-house and kept on going. "What are you doing, Barbara?"
"For the past few, days, baby brother, you have been a real little prick-sulking, moping around the house, not even asking if you could ball us-and Liz and I are fed up. Ever since we got Carl over the house to ball Holly, you've been acting like a little priest, so I've decided to take you somewhere where we can be alone, talk, screw, and get all this jealousy shit out of your system."
He gazed out the window, a dark look on his face. "I'm not mad at you and Liz. I'm mad at Holly. It just bothers me that she'd rather fuck Carl than me, that's all." He paused. "I thought she really liked me."
His sister smiled knowingly. "Look," she said, "there's no point ruining all your fun over a girl who isn't worth it."
"What's that supposed to mean?" he said angrily. "Only that a girl who'd rather fuck Carl than you doesn't have very much on the ball."
"You think I'm better than he is?" he asked.
"Much better."
Barbara glanced at him. Liz had been right: the male ego is a wonderful thing-wonderful because it's so easy to manipulate. "How about if we head over to the beach and find ourselves a nice, secluded spot." "Far out!" Bobby said.
They paid the toll and went over the bay bridge to the state park. The parking lot was almost empty of cars; all the daytime ocean goers had left; the beach was deserted under the summer evening.
"Let's move off into the dunes," Barbara suggested.
About two hundred yards down the beach they found a perfect place. They spread their blanket out in a narrow hollow of sand. On either side scrub-grass extended away from them in both directions; anyone approaching could be spotted fifty yards away.
"Think I can still get some sun?" Barbara said, removing her clothes and stretching out on the blanket, wincing at the red ball of the sun as it rolled down over the horizon.
"Nope, too weak now," her brother said, stripping off his shorts and laying down next to her.
Their little hollow was already being thrown into shadow as Bobby reached over to caress his sister's tits. She lay on her back, her heavy breasts crushed into thick pillows of flesh by their own weight, and let him investigate freely. She was intent on her own pleasure, but both sisters had agreed that this was Bobby's night, and he could have whatever he wanted.
For some people only the bedroom will serve for lovemaking; others enjoy the stimulation that the other rooms of the house afford; but for a special few the outdoors is the best of all possible worlds for sex. Bobby Reynolds was one of these. At fifteen the character of his sexuality was already beginning to develop. To put it in its simplest terms: there was something about the beach that made him super-horny. What was the cause of it? Perhaps it was the fantasies provoked by women half naked. Perhaps it was the total inversion of behavior associated with the scene: everyone displaying, enjoying, in short, celebrating their bodies. Maybe it was the blatant animalism he felt in existing so close to our natural origins. Whatever it was, the sun, the salty wind, and the surge of the sea were closely associated in his mind with the heat and the urge of fucking. * Even at night, with the sand cool next to their blanket and the breeze blowing over them, the shore worked its magic on him once more and he felt he could come forever.
He almost did. He fucked Barbara in the cunt first, then in the mouth. Then for the hell of it, he took her from behind, his cock up her asshole with nothing for lubrication but the grease from her orgasm. He rested for fifteen minutes by kneeling her over his face and sucking her off, then he fucked all three holes all over again. After six comes they carried each other back to the car and drove home.
So he was not surprised the next morning when he awoke with a tender penis. The funny thing was, it didn't hurt on the outside from the friction, it hurt on the inside from so many ejaculations. And stranger still, he still felt like fucking, but he just didn't know if his body could take it.
Well, it doesn't matter anyway, he thought as he washed and put on his bathing suit, I'll just lay out by the pool for a few hours and recuperate. He glanced out the window of his room at the backyard. From his vantage point on the second floor he had a clear view down into the pool area, which was protected from the eyes of curious neighbors by a high, solid wooden fence and tall, thick shrubbery. He could see his mother's tanned, lean body stretched out on a towel on the white concrete. A twinge of desire went through him. He had always thought she was nice-looking, but lately, with all that had happened, he'd begun to look at her in a different way. He wasn't ashamed of his feelings; he seemed able to divorce himself from the fact that this beautiful woman was his own mother. But, to his credit, he was mature enough to realize that if a woman like her wanted a man, she wouldn't have to go after teenage boys. He went happily down the stairs-at least he'd have something nice to look at while he hung around.
His mother heard him coming and turned her head toward him. She was lying on her stomach and she'd undone the top of her bikini in order to get an even tan on her back. He saw her smile spread beneath her big, round sunglasses.
"Morning, Mom," he said, dropping into a deck chair and squinting up at the bright blue sky. He wanted to make his interest in her body less apparent than it probably was; for her sake, he did not want to embarrass her.
"Morning? My Lord, it must be one o'clock already."
He did not realize she was playing with him. "Oh no," he said defensively, "it's only a few minutes past noon!"
"Still .. ." she kidded, "that's awfully late to be getting out of bed on a beautiful Saturday like this. You must have had quite a night."
He blushed immoderately, but June did not notice because of her sunglasses. "What movie did you see?"
Bobby thought desperately; he'd been unprepared for a third degree. He remembered something Liz had told him when they first started making it: conversation is like chess-in order to protect yourself you must stay five moves ahead of your opponent at all times-that, and not brevity, is the soul of wit.
"Oh ... uh .. . just one of those spy movies."
"Which one?" She was not trying to probe, she was only trying to make conversation.
Bobby racked his memory of the innumerable espionage films he had seen.
"Uh . .. Doctor No," he said finally.
His mother nodded knowingly. "Isn't that James Bond?"
"Yes," he said, happy to have a question he could answer easily. "I think I know it. Isn't that the one with Ursula Andress?"
"Yes," he said again.
His mother watched him closely. "She's very beautiful, isn't she?" She was thinking about her son's latency.
"I guess so," he said vaguely. He was sensitive about sex in front of her, afraid that any expression of interest might reveal his desire for her.
"You don't think she is attractive?"
"Sure," he said simply, "I guess she is."
His answers did nothing to relieve June's concern. Had he responded to her inquiries with an emphatic Yes, she would have gladly abandoned her plan, but as it was there did seem to be a problem. And only one sure-fire way to solve it. June imagined that almost any of her friends would be happy to assist her by seducing her son, but she did not underestimate the seriousness of the situation. She had to be sure he was treated in the right manner.
Bobby, in order to escape further conversation, had gotten up and walked off around the far side of the pool.
June watched him for a moment and then called, "Bobby, would you come over here please?"
He walked back. "Yes Mom?"
"This time of day the sun's rays are the strongest. I want to make sure I don't burn. Would you be a dear and put some tanning lotion on the backs of my legs while I lie here?"
Bobby felt a lump form in his throat and his groin. His mother's request, like a sorcerer's words, sent him headlong into an unreal world from which he did not emerge for the rest of that day. For the next twelve hours he would be a puppet with two masters: his own passion and his mother's whim.
He got down on his knees beside her outstretched body. He took up the tube of lotion and squeezed a bit of it out into his sweating palm. He reached down and ran his hand along the length of her legs.
"Rub it in well, dear."
His hands glided across the smooth, hairless skin. "Higher, dear."
His fingers crossed her knees and massaged their way up the back of her thighs. She perspired freely, her sweat mixing with the lotion and forming a shiny layer of oil over her hot skin.
"Now my back, Bobby." He moved up and began to work the white cream into her slender shoulders. "Lower, please."
He worked down across her back. The straps of her bikini top fell away to either side. He rubbed lower and lower undl his hands were only inches from her bottom. He could see the top of her asscrack peeking out at him from the edge of her panties.
"Now for the front," she said.
Part of him wanted to yell Stop! but he couldn't. His will did not belong to him, it belonged to his mother- he would do anything she asked.
June rolled over onto her back. Bobby's eyes went wide involuntarily, as though he had just entered a dark room and there was something in front of him he very much wanted to see. It was his mother's breasts.
June, well aware that the years had caused her ample bust to sag slightly from the pertness of girlhood, lifted each breast in a cupped hand. "I have to be so careful with my tits; they burn so easily, you know. Would you put some cream on them, too?" She was enjoying herself. As with the night before, when she had gone to bed with her own daughter, once June decided to do it, she made up her mind to have a good time. After all, how many women get to fuck their children?
Bobby was still prisoner of her strange spell. He reached out and touched his mother's breasts. June breathed a long sigh of relief as her son expertly caressed her swollen mammaries. He did not bother with the cream now; perspiration ran down her throat and onto her chest in slender streams; his hands moved easily over her skin.
She got up on her knees and faced him. She squeezed out a handful of lotion and began to rub it into his strong arms. She worked quickly toward his chest, moving her hands in little circles over his quivering muscles.
"You need some of this, too," she said softly. "I don't want your nice, pretty body to get burned."
Her hands massaged his neck and then moved down across his chest. Caught in some heavy trance, his lips were moving but no words came out.
"Is there something you want to tell me, darling?" she asked nonchalantly.
Facing each other on their knees by the pool, the mother and son caressed each other silently.
After a while June took him by the hand and led him into the house. They went right upstairs.
"Why, I must have sweated away at least five pounds out there today. I simply have to have a shower-will you join me?"
In the bathroom she untied her bikini bottom and took it off.
"Now yours," she said.
Bobby removed his bathing suit. For a full minute they stood and stared at each other's nudity. The sight of the penis of her only son-that little cock she hadn't seen in years, that she used to tease and tickle and take into her mouth in what she thought was play but knew now was something else-sent her into a paroxysm of delight. How it had grown! Why, it was just as big as his father's!
The vision of his mother's dark pubic triangle completed Bobby's enchantment. He was an automaton: his body, without direction, followed the instinctive impulses he had long controlled.
June intuitively knew he was about to move toward her. Not here, she thought. She wanted him as much as he her, but balling in the bathroom had never been her style. How to stall him? Only one way, she thought. I must act as though he does not excite me, perhaps that will dampen his desire long enough for me to get him into the bedroom.
She reached out her hand and took his. "Come on," she said, "we both need a bath." It worked. He followed her docilely into the stall shower. She closed the frosted glass door behind them and turned on the water.
A jet of water hit them. June dodged to avoid the hot spray-right into Bobby's arms. He kissed her savagely, locking his arms around her naked body and forcing his tongue deep into her open mouth. She struggled against him for a moment, then, caught in her own trap, surrendered to his irresistible force.
His hands closed over the small of her back, then groped lower and lower until he was holding one firm, round buttock of her ass in each hand. He pulled her hard against him and ground his prick on her soft pelvis.
She went wild on him. She held his head in her two slender hands and kissed him deeply. She slid her tongue over his open lips and into his mouth. She licked across his teeth and went deeper, then sucked her son's tongue back again into hers.
He repeated her caress, exploring her oral orifice so deeply that she nearly gagged.
She squirmed harder and faster against him as her excitement rose, her hips rotating in wide circles, and little cries of pleasure leapt up her throat each time her swollen clit brushed against his hardened cock-shaft.
They moved in their lewd dance to the rhythm of their own arousal, oblivious to everything but the other's wet and naked body.
Clouds of steam were pouring from the shower stall, as though the water that was falling on them could not extinguish the burning couple, but only make their fire hotter, fiercer. Bobby pressed his mother back against the shower wall and got one of his legs between hers. She assisted by raising herself up on her toes and hugging his neck, trying to get as high on him as she could. She rested her head on his shoulder to help maintain the position.
He took her standing in the shower.
Luckily he hadn't yet grown to his full adult height; he was still short enough so that he did not have to hold her in the air. She opened her legs to accommodate him, then closed them tight against his thighs.
For all his zeal, it took him a long time to get into her; suddenly all the expertise he'd developed over the past week deserted him. He licked her ear to distract her from his Tumblings. He began to think he would never succeed, and then just as suddenly he was in.
His mother went completely out of her mind.
"Oh God! Oh God! Oh Christ! Oh Shit!!!" she screamed in his ear. She clawed at him like a mad witch in the final moments of her destruction. He crushed against her in a vain attempt to escape the sharp nails of her flailing hands. She tore a long gash down the length of his spine (the scar of which he'd carry for the rest of his life to remind him of that day).
The water from the shower spattered against his back, rinsing off the blood that flowed out of the wound.
June had not had a hard cock inside her in almost a year. She was tight as a drum. He beat his penis into her vagina at an incredible tempo. She punctuated each thrust with an ecstatic yelp.
She sank both hands into his hair and forced his head away from her, exposing his tender throat to her lips and teeth. Her mouth left huge welts on his young skin. She pulled away and looked into his frightened eyes.
"Fuck me, Bobby! Fuck your mother! Fuck your mother!"
He seemed to catch fire all over again. He wrenched her hands off him and pinned them to her sides, holding her hips motionless with all his strength.
"I'll fuck you. I'll fuck you," he said with suppressed rage. "I'll fuck you till there's not an ounce of come left in your body."
"Take it! Take it!"
He rammed his prick into her again and again and again. He stooped and then slammed up into her with all the strength in his legs. He did it again, and again.
She had her first orgasm. "Bobby!!!! OOOOOhhhhhh!!!! Yes ... yes ... yes ... YY YYYYYEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!"
He didn't stop-he couldn't stop. He drove it into her, he jammed it into her, he banged it into her. She came again.
"OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" Her head was waving back and forth, his hips were ramming up and down. He worked his hands between her buttocks and the tile wall and shoved a finger up her asshole.
"SSSSHHHHIIIITTTT!!!!!"
She was coming constantly now. He lost count of her orgasms. But he hadn't lost count of his own. His was coming up right now, and it was going to be his only one. For some reason he knew it was all coming out in one shot. Way down at the base of his ass, at the bottom of his cock, he could feel his ejaculation coming, forming a tight fist, ready for the punch.
June had raised her arms and rested them on Bobby's shoulders. Her whole body had relaxed-only the muscles of her ravaged cunt continued to clutch and contract.
Now it was Bobby's turn. For some miracle, probably because of all the fucking he'd done the night before, his sperm hadn't spilled sooner and denied his mother her full pleasure-now it came boiling up like a jet of blood.
For one single, brief second, Bobby stopped his pumping thrusts, then with a force that almost broke June's back, he heaved his meat into his mother's hole and sprayed her cervix with his incestuous seed.
Now he had her, now she was his, totally his.
They stood for a time in each other's arms as the shower of water continued to fall against them
Chapter Fourteen
After their first frantic fuck in the shower, June and Bobby stepped out and dried themselves. The boy opened the door to let some of the steam escape, then went over and stood over the toilet. His mother wrapped a large, white bathtowel around her wet, exhausted body and came over and held his penis for him while he urinated. He pissed dark-yellow. When he was done she didn't shake him-she went down in front of him and licked the last drop of amber liquid from the end of his prick.
"MMMmmm," she sighed, "doesn't taste bad at all."
He giggled, but pulled away from her when she began to work at his prick once more.
"Not now, please," he said apologetically, "it really smarts."
June frowned. "From one orgasm?"
He didn't want to tell her about Barbara, not yet. "I'll be all right later, okay?"
June remembered her original reason for fucking him. Don't act disappointed, she told herself. She smiled up at him. "That's a promise, right?"
"Right," he said, relieved.
She looked at herself in the mirror, which was beginning to clear of steam. "I look ten years younger," she said with sadsfacdon, "don't I?"
He looked at her as he dried himself with a towel. "Twenty," he said.
She beamed with pleasure and looked back into the glass.
"Do you really think so?" "Uh-huh," he said.
It was true. She was radiant. Her make-up had all washed off in the bath, but her cheeks still glowed with a youthful flush. And her body had not felt this good in a year at least
"You know, I think you're right. I was getting so old and staid." She giggled like a girl. "I'd say I've discovered the real fountain of youth."
Fountain is the word for it, thought Bobby, holding his tender prick.
She came over and kissed him, her cloth-covered breasts brushing against his naked chest, her long, slim fingers tickling behind his ears. "I want you to know I'm very proud of my little Bobby."
Suddenly he was a child again. He hugged her chastely, as any boy hugs his mother.
"Now, go into my room and take a nap. You must be tired. I'll be in as soon as I dry my hair.
He obeyed her. A half-hour later, when she went into her room, he was asleep. She dropped the towel on the floor beside the bed and, pulling back the sheet, joined him.
It was hours later when Bobby awoke. He felt hands pressing his legs apart. He felt something warm and wet close over the head of his cock. He looked down; his mother's gray-streaked black mass of hair was bobbing quickly between his legs. A wave of warmth washed over him. He lay back and enjoyed it. He didn't say a word. No use opening his big mouth and spoiling all the fun.
June had almost forgotten the flavor of cock. She closed her mouth tightly around the tool, savoring the pungent taste. She had always loved fellatio, had never been one of those females that shied away from it-she considered them half women. Ever since she glimpsed her first prick, she was irresistibly drawn to the act; she had delighted her husband immeasurably on their wedding night when she'd continued their lovemaking after their first connubial fuck by sliding down on the bed and taking his still hard, blood-tipped member between her lips. She did not even wash it first; she licked the organ clean of her own virgin blood.
That was the tone of their marriage for the first ten years. They were never prudes-though she kept her maidenhead until her honeymoon, June was never afraid of sex; she had simply been taught by her liberal but religious mother that it should not be indulged in without the sacrament of marriage. Once the vows were taken, June considered anything permissable. During their first ten years together, she and Martin experienced nearly every conceivable variation of the love act. It was only then, after a decade of companionship, when they came to feel that all the possibilities were exhausted, that their physical relationship began to decline. They were an intelligent, imaginative couple for whom the idea of sex was as exciting and fulfilling as the acts themselves. They soon grew weary of the repetitions. This was their downfall.
It was ten years later that Martin, obeying the dictates of his passion, made love to his daughter Liz and, unknown to either himself or his wife, set the stage for a new drama that would bring them closer than they had ever been.
At the very moment that June sucked in and swallowed her son's semen, Martin was turning the car off the Expressway and onto the road that would take him to his home.
"Did you enjoy that?" Bobby's mother asked him as she returned from the bathroom with a washcloth and began to wipe her saliva from his dripping organ.
"Ooooooooh, so much," he sighed.
She smiled at him. "You know, I was only going to do this once, but now seems it might be nice to make a habit of it, don't you agree?"
Bobby lay back and enjoyed the feeling as she cooled his warm loins with the wet cloth. "I sure do," he said dreamily. He was not even fully awake and he had already shot into his mother's mouth. He tried to get his bearings, but gave it up. After everything that had happened that week, he thought nothing could surprise him, but now he had to admit that his mind was really blown. Oh well, he thought, if I'm going crazy I might as well give up and enjoy it.
"There's just one thing," she went on, "I don't want you to mention this to your sisters. Let's just keep it as our little secret, okay?"
This was something he hadn't expected; it brought him out of his reverie. "Why not?" he asked.
June was playing the manipulator. Just as she was keeping secret from Bobby her new relationship with Liz, she was trying to conceal from her daughter the fact that she was also making her son-the better to enjoy them each privately. Having never had sex with more than one person at a time, she was unaware of the advantages of orgy.
"Because," she lied, "if you tell Liz or Barbara about us, one of them might tell your father. If he finds out that you and I are fucking, he'll take me to court and I could well lose possession of you children. If that happens you and I won't be able to see each other any more. You wouldn't want that, would you?" She lay down on her back and drew him on top of her, wrapping her legs around his hips and working her tongue around the inside of his mouth. His prick was erect and pressed against the top of her hairy mound. She went on tonguing him and worked one hand down between their bodies. She wrestled his standing prick down between her legs and into her cunt. She was still wet from the fluid that had flowed in sympathy to the blow-job. He slid in right up to the root.
"GGGaaaahhhh!" she grunted as she felt herself consumed by his staff.
He knew he wouldn't come again, but he remembered how good it felt to give her an orgasm. He started humping, driving his stake into the heart of her pleasure. He hammered it in until she expired from ecstatic convulsions. He thought that was enough and began to withdraw, his cock drooping.
"Do it again! Again!" she pleaded.
She grabbed his buttocks and would not let him escape. Her nails dug into his asscheeks. Pain went through him like a lightning bolt, recharging his passion. He redoubled his efforts. With blinding speed he humped her body, banging his rod repeatedly against the back wall of her vagina. His renewed energy brought her fresh discharges. His power seemed to flow out of him and into her, only to build to a new climax and be released. Her come-fluid seeped from her like acid leaking from a discharging battery.
Their fucking brought back memories of her first intercourse, of that wild, almost unbelievable sensation when her husband broke through the wall of her virginity. What she remembered about the experience wasn't a thought or an emotion, though her wedding night had certainly been an emotional event, but rather the almost physical fact that this sensation existed. Later, after Martin fell asleep, she lay awake for hours, wondering how this world of pleasure could have existed within her for years without her knowledge of it. She had awakened to sex at an early age, having spent all her teenage years in private girls' schools. At thirteen she had never lacked girl-friends-there was always someone who wanted to finger-fuck. At fifteen she was introduced to cunnilingus by none other than the headmistress herself, a lovely gray-haired woman of fifty; and from then on June had been popular with students and teachers alike. But it wasn't until college that she met Martin Reynolds, fell in love with him and left lesbianism behind. It wasn't until her twentieth year that she felt a cock inside of her, and it turned her on so much she never even thought of going back to girls. But last night, after Liz coaxed her upstairs, silentiy stripped off her nightgown, and then sucked her off, June couldn't help herself. She was glad now she hadn't. Things looked pretty good for June Reynolds, even without a husband. Still, she thought, haven't I been doing the very thing we split up over? She still loved him, but she knew what he had done was a spontaneous thing. If he ever found out how cold-bloodedly she had seduced his son, he would be horrified. She knew he wouldn't come back on her terms, and she wasn't about to give up what she had now with Bobby and Liz, so . ..
June's words and cries of encouragement to Bobby drowned out the sound of the car pulling into the driveway. Martin was at the wheel with Liz beside him and Barbara in the back seat. After lunch he had taken them to a fine clothing boutique where Liz had bought a leather miniskirt and insisted on wearing it home. All the way home Martin had found it hard not to stare at her long legs, but it was difficult to keep his eyes on the road.
In the dressing room of the shop Liz told Barbara about the night before, and also what she hoped had happened today while they were in the city. As they got out of the car both girls were tingling with anticipation.
"I'll bet they're doing it right now," Liz whispered in her sister's ear.
The redhead shivered at the thought. "I hope so," she said. "Wouldn't it be wild if we could all do it together?"
Her older sister winked and pursed her lips in a suggestion of silence. They followed their father up to the house.
At the front door Liz stopped and said, "Do you hear that?"
"What?" Martin said, putting his key in the lock. Even with June out of town he felt a little anxious being there, as if his wife had left behind a ghostly presence to haunt his return.
"SSh!" Liz and Barbara were stock-still, listening.
Martin looked at his daughters uncomprehendingly. "What are you two talking about?"
Liz gave her sister a look as if asking her if she should tell him something he did not know. Barbara went along with the game and nodded.
"It's Bobby," the brunette said.
"I don't understand."
Liz glanced at Barbara again. The redhead smiled encouragingly. "Tell him the whole thing," she said.
"All right," Liz said. She looked at Martin. "I think Bobby's upstairs with his girlfriend."
The truth began to dawn on him.
"You mean, in bed?"
Both girls nodded.
This was certainly a surprise. The last time Martin had seen his son the boy had only two interests: football and more football. Girls had been no more a part of his life than classical music. Martin shook his head. He realized how long he'd been away.
Liz took advantage of his moment of confusion. Unabashedly she seized him by the hand and pushed open the door.
"Let's go in and wait for them to finish, then we'll scare the life out of him," she said.
With devilish looks on their faces the girls dragged their father into the house. Once inside Martin also heard the sounds of fucking filtering down from above. The three intruders went quietly into the living room and sat down.
Liz knew it could only be her mother and her brother making those noises. She felt a fine flush of victory sweep through her. So even her mother was vul- nerable to the temptations of incest. She knew that in her own case it was her body and not her identity that had attracted her mother; if June had wanted a young girl, it would have been difficult for her to find one on her own-therein lay her desire for Liz-but a man she could have found anywhere, even a young one. It must have been that casual remark she'd made about Bobby being queer-that's what must have done it. As she mixed a drink for the three of them she smiled to herself: so her mother hadn't been so difficult to convert after all. Now all that was needed to bring the situation to a head was to bring her parents together and expose the truth. With luck, her father would bow to circumstance and join the fun, if not- She handed Martin a martini and sat next to him on the couch. She hoped to get a couple of drinks into him before the confrontation to loosen him up a bit. He was obviously uncomfortable as he sat on the sofa and quietly sipped his drink.
"What's the matter, Dad, shocked by your little boy's behavior?"
He frowned at his elder daughter. Her blouse was tucked tightly into her miniskirt, fitting snugly around the twin globes of her breasts. He remembered the day they made love. He recalled how it had felt to lie between her firm thighs, to sink his tool so deep into her tight quim. He thought back to how her tiny tit-tips had tasted. He knew she wanted him. There were ways of telling. He figured that was the real reason she had asked him out to the house, to have him in her bed again. After all, don't all daughters desire their fathers? And wasn't that desire reciprocated by every man? The reason for his divorce had never leaked out, thankfully, but more than one of his friends had expressed an interest in his long-legged daughter. He couldn't blame them. She was beautiful. A regular knockout. And God knows she's good in bed, he thought. And why shouldn't she be? Wasn't she a woman first of all, before anything else, including a daughter? And wasn't he a man? Did it really matter so much if they enjoyed each other, so long as no one suffered for it?
Pleased with his reasoning, he sat back and tried to figure out how he could have the best of both worlds: his wife and his daughter.
Liz repeated her question.
"Oh," he said, startled out of his thoughts, "no, I'm not shocked at all. You seem to forget that I was a boy once myself, and that Bobby is my son."
"I haven't forgotten," she said, fully realizing that he would not understand the hidden meaning in her vague remark. "In fact, how would you like to see how his technique compares with yours?"
The gin was beginning to take effect. Before he could stop them, the girls had hustled him halfway up the stairs.
"Now wait a minute!" he said, but Barbara put her finger to his lips before he could finish.
"Be quiet," Liz ordered in a whisper. "We aren't going to barge in on anybody, we're just going to observe from the door."
They led him down the hallway to the master bedroom. Liz went down on her knees to spy through the keyhole, but the room was at such an angle that she could see nothing. Barbara stood beside her father, her arm encircling his waist, her luscious boobs pressed wantonly against his arm.
The older girl opened the door a crack and peeked in. Before Martin could resist, she had thrown the door open and yanked him into the room behind her. Now he was mad; he didn't like being manhandled this way, even by his own daughters. He was about to turn his anger against Liz when his glance involuntarily fell on the couple in bed, and the truth slapped him full in the face, stunning him speechless.
June had rolled over and was bouncing joyfully on her son's prick. As she rose and fell, her hair came down and broke like a wave on the shore of her shoulders. Her pleasure pounded through her body like a heavy surf. Suddenly she was aware of the intrusion, of the existence of others in the room. She twisted about and stared at the door. Her daughters were standing there, their faces twisted with perverse delight, and between them, tall, handsome and uncomprehending, stood Martin, her husband.
She threw herself off Bobby to the other side of the bed, and pulled the covers over in a ludicrous attempt to hide herself. For the full quarter minute that Martin watched his wife before she had realized her discovery, his conflicting emotions mixed together into a soup of confusion. Now, in response to her low-life comedy reaction to the situation, they all came spilling out in laughter.
He laughed at everything: at June's thoughtless try at escape, at the look on Bobby's face, at how he had so easily been tricked by his scheming daughters. He laughed at his own stupidity, at June's hypocrisy, at Bobby's embarrassment. He couldn't be angry with the boy; after all, his mother was a beautiful woman. In fact he felt a certain pride in Bobby's conquest. He couldn't even be angry with June. He didn't know why, it was simply true. He wasn't mad at her.
After a few minutes of bewilderment over her husband's good humor, June's smeared lips cracked wide into a smile of relief.
"I'm glad you're taking it so well," she said.
He laughed again. "Don't you see," he said, gesturing a reversal of their positions, "this is where we came in, only it was the other way around."
June looked at her daughters. "You didn't go shopping at all, did you?" she said accusingly.
"Of course we did, Mother," Liz said, striding forward with her hands on her shapely hips. "That's where I got this terrific skirt that Dad has been staring at all the way home."
Martin smirked lecherously. "I wasn't staring at the skirt, for Christ's sake."
"Oh?" Liz said, sauntering over to him.
"No, I was staring at your cute little ass." He took her in his arms and kissed her full on the lips. For an oblivious moment they twisted in each other's arms. Martin reached down and pulled up the hem of her skirt. He worked it up to her waist until her whole pan-tie-covered bottom was on view for all to see. And every one of them enjoyed the sight. June ran her tongue across her lower lip in recollection of the texture of that silk-soft skin. Barbara and Bobby did the same, but the boy was thinking more of her cunt, and the heated clutchings of her vagina.
"All right, all right," June said, smiling, "break it up and bring some of that over here."
Liz, with her arms around her father's neck, looked at June. "Do you mean him or me, Mother?"
June shrugged. "How about him first, you next?"
Martin paused. "Are you sure all's forgiven?"
His wife threw off the covers to expose her magnificent and mature body. She put out her arms in welcome. "Darling, if we're all guilty of the crime, I guess the crime doesn't exist."
He went to the side of the bed and embraced her. After a long, lingering kiss they turned toward the girls and Bobby, who had gone over to join his sisters. All three of them were watching their parents feverishly.
"Well, go ahead Daddy, fuck her," Barbara said.
The two girls ran over and began to help him out of his clothes. They pulled off his coat, tie and shirt. Liz pulled out his belt and threw it to Bobby.
"Here, muscles, if they won't do it beat them with this!"
"We'll do it. We'll do it!" Martin cried as they pulled his trousers down and off.
June took care of his undershorts. Soon he was as naked as his wife.
When Barbara saw his prick spring up to life she breathed a long whistle. "Wow, I never s*aw that one before."
Her mother smiled and hefted it up in her hands. "Do you like it, honey?"
"Shit yes," the redhead cooed. "Can I try it when you're finished with it?"
"Certainly, but let me have it first. Remember: age before beauty." She pulled her younger daughter's face down to her and kissed her on the mouth as Martin used his tongue over her hard nipples. "Your father's mouth on my tits is making me so horny ... go over there with your brother and sister and amuse your- selves while we occupy the bed. When we're finished you're going to get a chance with both of us."
Barbara clapped her hands with delight and ran over to join Liz and Bobby, who already had their clothes off and had started a sixty-nine.
Martin looked down into his wife's face. "Well," he said, "are we going to disappoint the children? It seems they've gone to a lot of trouble to bring us together."
June smiled. "You'll never believe how much."
He put his arms around his wife and laid her down jn her back. He climbed over her. The touch of her body was familiar, yet at the same time there was an exciting foreign feel to it.
She drew him slowly into her, appreciating each inch of his swollen stalk. He looked deep into her eyes.
"Remember me?" he whispered.
She twitched her hips bewitchingly. "How could I forget?" she said.
He held himself above her on his extended arms and ground his pelvis slowly, rhythmically against her open crotch. She ran her fingers across his barrel chest, teasing his nipples.
"MMMmmmm, nice," she giggled.
"But not as nice as yours," he said, bending down to take one distended dug into his sucking mouth.
She searched out the side of his head and slid her tongue into his ear. He growled with pleasure and began to buck. She responded knowingly to his fuck-thrusts, matching his rhythm identically, bouncing against him at a frantic pace.
"OOOOOhhhhhh, you still know how to do it, don't you, Martin?"
"Yes ... yes ... yes ... yes."
With each word he took another step toward orgasm. She followed close behind. In a matter of seconds they had discharged together.
Martin closed his eyes at the moment of ecstasy. He filled her vagina with a pint of warm come. She seemed to swallow it down with her nether-mouth. He felt her vaginal muscles contract and relax as if gulping for more.
He opened his eyes and was surprised to see that June was staring at the other end of the room. He separated from his wife's body and turned to see what was so interesting.
On the floor by the door were the Reynolds children. Bobby was almost invisible under the bodies of his sisters. Each girl was kneeling over a part of his body: Liz over his crotch, Barbara over his face. The girls had furthered the fun as well by each placing a finger over the other's clit. This added spice made the position that much tastier. Barbara was off in another world, her shivering body the only evidence that she belonged to this world. Liz, on the other hand, was completely conscious. The sight of her father and mother balling in front of her had boosted her excitement to the danger point, but now that the older pair had come and were relaxing in each other's arms, it was as if cold water had been thrown onto the fire of her passion. She stared straight ahead of her with smoldering eyes, trying to recreate in her mind the image of her fucking parents. She humped ferociously on Bobby's prick, but even his formidable weapon could not bring her off.
With a shriek Barbara seized Bobby's head between her hands and slammed her wet loins down again and again onto his open mouth.
"Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!"
June and Martin watched in amusement as their redheaded daughter commanded the attention of the room with her orgiastic shudderings.
The girl relaxed and rolled over on the floor. Her sister continued to ride their mutual lover. Now, without the stimulation of her sister's finger, it looked like there was no way Liz would reach the climax she desired.
June got Barbara's attention. "Come over here, darling. There's something your father and I would like to tell you."
The redhead crawled over to the side of the bed and looked up at her parents. "And what is that?" she asked.
"Oh, we can't tell you if you're down there, can we dear?" she turned to her husband. He smiled wickedly and shook his head. "There, you see, even your father doesn't think so. Therefore you must come up here right away."
Barbara joined them on the bed. "All right, what is it?"
"This!" they both shouted and stuck their tongues in her ears. Each of her parents grabbed a heavy breast in one hand, each a luscious thigh in the other. Then they rolled her over. She ended up on her knees with her mother below her, the woman's lips flush up against the lips of her hairy cunt. Her father moved behind and brought the full power of his newly stiffened cock against her bottom. She wiggled her hips to assist him; in a matter of seconds he was sliding his tool far into the depths of her vagina.
Neither Martin nor June had been in bed with Barbara before. Now her sexy redhead looks really turned them on. Her father attacked her from behind with his cock, while her mother attacked her from below with her mouth.
Now Barbara was in for a real treat. As her parents continued their combined caresses, rekindling the flame of want that burned within her, she saw before her the miracle of her mother's cunt. A thousand standing cocks could not have tempted her from that sweet mouthful. She sank her lips and tongue into it, sucking up for the first time in her life the drippings of her mother's sex. It was delicious.
After June felt the mouth of (she thought) her virgin daughter on her spilling cunt, it took her only seconds to pop her cork and send the whole bottle of womb-wine sluicing down and out the neck of her vaginal opening and into the thirsty girl's throat.
Barbara got drunk on June's cunt-liquid. She squirmed her ass back hard against her father's prick and bathed it too with a gush of quim-water.
Her father ejaculated squarely into her from behind.
" AAAAA AA AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" he yelled.
It had been a long time since Martin Reynolds had come twice running. And a long time as well since he had done what he just did into one of his daughters' holes.
At that moment he made a solemn oath to himself that he would never again wait that long to enjoy the pleasures they afforded.
Liz was trying to think herself into coming. Her father's cry roused her from her intense concentration.
"Room for one more?" she called over to them.
"Sure," Barbara answered.
"But bring that good-looking boy with you," June said.
Bobby had already come twice into Liz's cunt as she kneeled over him. He was happy for the chance to escape her now that his prick was softening. Maybe on the bed it would get hard again. He wondered where he would stick it next.
June seemed to know where. She grasped him by the hand and dragged him in beside her, kissing him down across his stomach toward his soft cock. She tickled the pisshole, irritating the raw nerve endings with her tender tongue. She fitted her mouth around the entire penis-head, then slid the motherfucking member into her eager throat. She thought, for a moment, that the damn thing would never stop going down. She was surprised by her own disappointment when it did.
After a few loving strokes her son's cock-shaft was as strong as ever. It was times like these that Bobby was glad he was only a horny fifteen-year-old. Imagine a woman wanting you, and not being able to get hard, he thought to himself.
With the tumescence of Bobby accomplished, he and his mother rejoined the party. Liz was humping Barbara's bare bottom from behind, while with the fingers of both hands she mixed the stew of juices in the redhead's cunt; Martin had been finally reunited with the long-lost brunette-he had his prick up her cunt from behind.
June fitted herself under them all. It was her favorite position: from beneath she got to suck everybody. On their knees on the bed, their legs formed a perfect bridge for her to slip beneath. Her tongue flowed swiftly from one crotch to another.
Bobby wondered where he was to come in. For a few minutes he feared he was to be ignored, but once his mother had settled herself and had begun licking the genitals of her family, she moved him right into the action. She motioned him closer. He obeyed, moved right up between her legs. He thought she wanted him to fuck her again as he had been fucking her all day. But he was wrong. She wanted him to fuck her, all right, but not the way he'd been doing it all day. She wanted to try something different.
As he thrust to send his penis into her slimy, gaping vagina, she suddenly forced the head of his cock down. Bobby almost gasped with surprise-his mother wanted him to fuck her asshole! He didn't know whether he could, whether he should. For a moment he thought it might anger his father, but when he looked and saw the expression on Martin's face as he banged his rod dog-style into his daughter's cunt, he knew the man could be anything but angry. At least not that night. Fortunately, June did not give the boy any choice in the matter. She fisted the dank dingus and with a mighty heave sent the whole match shooting up into the bowels of her rectum.
Her legs went up and rested on Bobby's shoulders as the energetic youngster warmed to the task. Soon he was sliding his tool like an anal expert in and out of that smallest of orifices.
Barbara, who still knelt in a sixty-nine position over her screaming mother, with Liz from behind humping and fingering, and their father behind her heaving and bumping, completed the cluster of bodies by leaning forward and mouthing the soiled tool of her brother as it slipped and slid in and out of their mother's anus.
The whole Reynolds family was wrapped up in a huge ball of flesh, and it was a ball they were having!
Martin was balling Liz, his beautiful brunette daughter, from behind while he played with her breasts and their rosy tips.
Liz had her father's prick from behind and the added stimulation of humping the firm, round globes of her sister's bottom. She also had both hands knuckle-deep in seeping cunt-juice.
Barbara bucked and whinnied under Liz's caresses, but not enough to wrench her mouth away from the smelly cock of her brother.
Bobby felt his mushrooming member kissed by Barbara's lips and hugged by his mother's affectionate sphincters which held his phallus in a fond embrace. He also felt his cock being licked by Barbara's tongue and laved by the heat of his mother's steaming anus.
And June, of course, received into her bowels the liquid proof of her son's arousal as her own oral urges sent her tongue this way and that way through the split groins of her husband and daughters.
The fucking and sucking went on and on until the hour of midnight, when, to the chiming of the bedroom clock, each member of the family fired off their last, exhausted round of come.
Bobby was the first to nod off to sleep. Martin lay back on the bed and smoked a cigarette silently. June was combing her hair. Barbara went downstairs for some cool drinks. Liz curled up next to her father and told him the story of her first week home from college, while June listened along and nodded occasionally in agreement.
When the story was finished Martin shook his head.
"I'll tell you something," he said. "Whatever it was that thought this whole thing up, whether God, Man or Beast-whoever it was, they sure came up with one hell of a well-laid plan."
They all laughed as Barbara came in with four tall glasses of soda. "Speaking of God," she said seriously, "We'd all better get to sleep or we'll be late for Church in the morning."
"For what?" Liz interrupted.
"For Church, aren't you going?"
Liz shook her head. "Tomorrow is Sunday, the day of rest. I intend to do just that. It has been seven days since I returned, and my work is completed."
June and Martin looked at each other across the room and smiled. They were not listening to what their daughters were saying.
Liz looked at both her parents. "And you know something, Barbara," she went on.
