She paused and listened just before reaching the nearly closed door. By the sounds Kitty knew he was in there, but whether or not she would be welcome was another matter. In the well-remembered past when Barry was beginning his body-building kick, visitors had been unwanted.
That was four years ago, she reminded herself, feeling an eerie light-headedness at being home again. Her brother was behind that door and another was at school and Mommy and Dad were at work and all's right with the world. Everything the same--but everything different.
Welcomed like a heroine home from the wars, the week since her return had seen everyone treat her like Joan of Arc. The last thing she needed was the pedestal routine and, if she could just keep her nerve, she knew her planned intrusion on Barry would change all that. She glanced down at her bikini and felt the tingle of the illicit. Taut nipples etched the level of her excitement against a snug white halter.
"Harrruupp!" The familiar explosion of air as Barry pressed the hundred-pound weight to his chest, then high above his head. She'd heard that sound each day since returning, but not till this morning had she been up for the risk of barging in to watch.
Kitty peeked through the crack and barely restrained a delighted gasp. Her brother, skinny beanpole of fourteen when she left, was a sleek Adonis. Powerful back, narrow waist and arm and leg muscles that showed hours of conditioning had paid off in a superb figure.
"Ohmygoodness!" Her hand covered her mouth too late to muffle delight as Barry turned slowly toward the door, still pressing the weight at arms' length above his head. Her awe deepened at the sight of his front ... not his broad chest or his slim hips ... but the evidence of formidable power at his groin.
"Hey, that you, Kitty? Come in." The weight was lowered casually as she pushed open the door.
"Won't stay." She wigwagged a hand apologetically, catching his quick survey of what four years had done for her own bod. "I know Barry Carr's room is off limits during his body-beautiful training and may I say it has really paid off!"
"Come on in, big sister. C'mon! C'mon!" He grabbed her hand as she started to turn for the door. '"I'm lots less self-conscious these days." He surveyed her figure as she let him spin her in a light pirouette. "You're stacked wider than ever. Glad your rotten ex didn't wreck your shape."
"I'm glad, too," she agreed. "Still 119, but now I've gone to a 40-29-39. Chalk up an inch at all points."
"Nothin but an improvement. Lemme try you like you're a super-size dumbbell." He bent and scooped an arm under her thigh, hefting her quickly to shoulder height with a supporting palm at the small of her back.
"Got the right name for me ... I'm a super-size dumbbell and I got scars to prove it." Delicious erotic pinpricks teased her cunt lips as Barry's free hand drifted to the top of her thigh to steady her and lift her to full arm's length over his head. "Wheel No one would believe you! Put me down before I have cardiac arrest!"
"There's my nurse sister talking." He dropped her lightly to her feet, coloring suddenly as his hand brushed her breast.
"So, let me see what you've made of yourself. I must say, I can see just about everything." She flicked a pointed glance at his groin. "What is that tell-all you're wearing?"
"Guys call it a sling-shot. Kinda your mod jock, I guess." He shifted self-consciously as she circled him speculatively, outwardly appraising the musculature of his body, but covertly staring at the clear outline of his generous endowment in sexual parts. "I'm not usually on display," he said defensively, his voice tight in sudden tension.
"You should be." Impulsively Kitty stepped close to him and threw her arms around his waist, burrowing her head into the hollow of his shoulder. "It is so good to be home again! I've missed you."
It happened before either could break the embrace. Stung from quiescent lump to instant arousal, the phallus ground hard against her tummy, diagonally across his sling-shot in a quivering ridge, warm and long, sending glorious sensations through Kitty's yearning body.
"My gosh, I'm sorry, sis!" Barry wrenched against the scissor-squeeze of her arms and she exclaimed in pretend shock as she arched back to stare down at where their bodies were cemented.
"Part of you isn't sorry, at least, and "I'm certainly not. Your sling-shot is very elastic, isn't it? So show me what else you practice to give you that body." With an impudent hip accenting her disinterest m continuing the tight embrace, she danced away from her brother to perch prettily on the corner of his bed.
"Like this?" He gave a pained look down his front
"Exactly, why not? It's a beautiful part of a man." She shrugged. "Of course, if you'd rather I..."
"No!" His eyes pleaded. "I ... I guess I should feel different ... brother and everything ... but I can't help myself, Kitty. Jeez, I really show it, don't I?"
She studied the clear outline of cock and balls jammed against the white elastic sling. "We both do," she said soberly. "And I really like your show, Barry." Hands on her hips, on tiptoes and with chin high, she spun before him, shoulders back to accent her proud breasts and jutting nipples. "So, now we're even. Show me twenty-five chin-ups."
As if offered pardon for a capital crime, Barry leaped lightly to the chinning bar suspended above his bathroom door. With the vanishing of self-consciousness, the rigidity left his phallus as he hung fully extended to prove he used no short cuts for leverage. Dedicated to dramatizing his strength to her, he pulled through seven quick chin-ups, eyes closed to concentrate on the exercise.
"Beautiful!" she enthused, breaking her count as he lowered from the seventh. "It's really great 'cause it's a turn-on for you, isn't it?"
His eyes remained tight closed as he pulled easily upward. "Eight," he grunted, "and that's a He."
"Your penis puffs a little each time you go up." She moved very close to his fine of descent, her plan in mind. "And you're starting to cheat ... you wriggle a little, forcing your way up."
Body stiffened with uncertainty, Barry let down to a full extension of his arms, feeling the whisper of her hair brush lightly against his front as he lowered, then the tantalizing pressure of saucy breasts, firm and full. "Gun ... golly, sis. Whatcha doin'?" His eyes were wide and bewildered as he hung before her, undecided whether to drop to the floor or go for the twenty-five she demanded. , She stared directly at his chest, then closed the two-inch gap between her front and his. "Now I keep you honest, brother mine. No squirming your bod for leverage, right?"
A delightful euphoria took Barry as he got the message. The girl he'd worshipped as a faraway sex goddess, whom he'd always believed never knew her brother was even a male, liked to excite him. Fantastic! Who had better right to some harmless kicks than Kitty? Her marriage had been over now for more than three months, and from all she'd told the family she'd had no real sex from the day she married the bum who called himself a doctor. He looked down across his chest at the face of innocence framed by lovely dark hair. She might be twenty-two, but Barry was ready to bet he'd had as much sex as his sister in the years she was away.
"Go!" Her head tilted down as she gave the order and he knew what she saw. Inches away from her sweet lips was a man-chassis, the likes of which she'd never seen.
He felt the maddening insolence of her bold boobs barely hidden in that prickly halter. Across his midriff, urgent against his flattened belly, and oh, God! Now her firm globes were pressed brazenly against his private parts and he could feel a pointing nipple right through the light elastic of his ridiculous pretense at cover. What compelled him to continue the pull upward to the bar Barry didn't know, except that he was determined to show his total self-control, even under the deliberate torture she had set up. He needed to buy time to think. His sister was really changed. She wasn't just admiring the man he'd become . . . she wanted the man he'd become.
Somehow he managed it, touched chin to bar, then dragged himself by trembling brute force still higher till his weight rested across the bar and he had his moment to think. Only now all he could do was feel, and what he felt was centered in his groin. He looked down and her smile was maddeningly taunting. She knew she'd gotten to him and she knew he had to come down. Years washed backward and he was again the fourteen-year-old and she was eighteen, only now he wasn't the skinny adolescent kid he'd been when she began nurse's training. Her eyes said she meant every word about how attractive he was to her, especially where she was looking right now. Deliberately he focused the straining muscles to put stress through his groin.
"That's wild!" Kitty backed away a step and stared up at the intoxicating sight of her brother boasting a full erection under the sling, glaring down at her from his unstable perch. "I told you chinning was a turn-on." She turned smugly toward the door as if her mission to his room had been satisfied.
"Wait, damn you!" The fury in his voice stopped her pretense of leaving. "You know who's the turn-on! Baby, I gotta surprise for you. You like my muscles? Here's the best one of all! You been turnin' it on for years!" His fingers found the edge of the sling and ripped violently, sending the shredded protection sailing at the stunned witness.
"Barreeee! Oh, my beautiful baby brother!" She reached both hands for the maddening assembly of fiercely erected cock and loaded balls, but they were barely beyond her fingertips. .
"Like it, don'tcha?" His eyes were wild with panic and she read his dilemma when his fist wrapped around the swollen cock barrel, then instantly released.
"Do it, sissy!" she hissed. "Don't pretend you've never jerked off over a girl before."
He dropped from the chinning bar with a resounding crash that echoed down the hall outside, but neither of them heard. Gripping his turbulent phallus, he stalked brazenly toward her, flagging the formidable length like a bludgeon as he neared. "No pretend, right, sister mine? And you want to know who I like to jerk off over best? Do you wanta know?" he roared.
"Who?" Shivering with delight at the wildness she had unleashed and uncertain what to do with it, Kitty grabbed feverishly for the hard-on, slapping his fingers from their tight hold and yanking him by the extended handle close against her front. "You mean you masturbated thinkin' about me?"
"A bunch!" he panted. "Least till the coach sold me a bill on thinking clean thoughts to stay in shape."
"Then along comes your kinky sister back home to mess up all that clean thinking." The fingers loosened his organ.
Pure panic flared in his voice. "Didn't mean it like that!"
Her fist clamped tightly to the middle of his shaft and she squeezed. Violent warning signals charged now and he could feel the cock-trapped blood pulsing against the tourniquet of her fingers. Trying to make it even bigger, thought Barry, and it's already a mile long! She began a rhythmic stroke and he rocked to her pumping.
"Gonna get me in trouble doin' that!" he gasped.
"I'm not doing a thing," she protested, her voice quavering, but she never looked up from her preoccupation with his erection. "You're doin' it. Oh, you man, you! You're going to come ... right now!"
"Yeah! YEAH!" He arched violently against the charging orgasm and flung a desperate arm around her shoulder as she jerked frenziedly, gawking down at the happy surprise in her eyes as she took the full cannonade of his ejaculation in her face. Lips ovalled, head thrown back, and dark hair tumbling gaily, she stared in unblinking delight at the rapture of her brother's expression as he climaxed.
"Ohmygod!" he moaned, crumpling to the rug at her feet. "We're a couple of nuts! And I got it good for that little trick!"
"Why?" She bent over him, resting her weight on a palm, and smudged the sparkling droplets that had splattered to her breasts. "What do you mean, you got it good?"
"Musta pulled a ligament in my groin or somethin'," he lied, needing something, anything, to cool what had so unexpectedly charged into an illicit fever between them.
"Barry, really?" The hurt in his look convinced her, and she caught under his shoulders to prop him to a sitting position. "You're not just ashamed of me for what I did to you?"
"Heck, no! Betcha lots of brothers and sisters take care of each other that way."
"I don't care if they do or not. I wanted to take care of you, as you say it." Her eyes glittered defiantly.
"Ohhh, Lord, that hurts!" he groaned, grabbing low on his middle.
"Come! On your back on the bed. Let your nurse sister get some moist heat on you, quick."
Here it goes again, he thought, letting her help him to the bed ... that fast and I'm ready to do anything to show myself off to her ... at least I'm shot down from the frig. He folded over onto his back on the bed as she hurried off to the bathroom. Seconds later he heard the water running and, twisting farther up toward the headboard, he could see the luscious female leaning over the sink to soak a towel in the hot water. .
There was no way he could stop the thickening of his penis as he looked at Kitty's fabulously stacked body, its fantastic proportions almost as nakedly displayed as his own. Dark hair lay casually across the gentle slope of her shoulders as she bent to the sink and, when she straightened, her breasts, slightly too large for some critics, thrust explosively against the white halter. He wondered how long her nipples were ... even from twenty yards he could see their eager pointing.
"Damn!" He smothered the epithet, wishing he could turn away from his lusty study of her contours. "Look at that tail!" he whispered to himself, wondering how much it had been ridden in Kitty's twenty-two years. Maybe not once by Arnold Graber, who, for all his medical training, was probably nothing as a man.
She squeezed the towel of its excess water and, as 13 she turned to come back, Barry stole a last look at the invitation of her wide hips. Built to fuck and fuck and never stop ... my God, she's my sister and I've made myself that way again!
Kitty smiled quietly when she reached his side and, ignoring the thunderous new erection, she looked him squarely in the eyes. "Put your hand where it hurts most. Is it up here in hernia country?" Her fingers walked casually around his ramrodding phallus and pressed lightly along his hip line as if the hard-on were perfectly normal.
A mad rationale burned in Barry's brain. He was hurt; at least he felt like something was pulled ... she was a trained nurse ... if something got fouled up with his sex equipment while a trained nurse was working on whatever muscle was pulled, well, that was just part of the occupational hazard of being a nurse ... not his sister! ... this was a nurse, and if her scanty attire did what it was doing to him, that was her tough luck!
"You're cute," cooed Kitty, putting the hot hand towel on the place he indicated with his hand as tender. "You're to he perfectly still while I press the towel to keep the warm coming through."
He made a last pass at pretending not to approve his personal lust for his sister. "God, Kitty, I don't know what to say ..."
Wide and indignant brown eyes glared as she exclaimed impatiently, "It's the nicest compliment I've had in months." Her study focused directly on the upraised penis standing at quivering attention. "It's the biggest one I've ever seen. Is that really its normal size when you're hard?"
He started to push to an elbow and she pressed the 14 heel of her palm against his chest to hold him prone on his back. "Don't move. Here ... tell me ... does it always get this long?" Her fingers grabbed his and drew them along the hot shaft.
A flush crawled from the base of his neck as he suspected a put-on. "Normal, I guess." His words were brittle with tension and his senses started to swirl as they had while he was chinning and she was playing with him.
"But feel how thick! I'm serious!" She forced his hand to the base of his erection and, momentarily hypnotized by the sight and feel of her so bold with his cock, he let her form a fist with his fingers. Unexpectedly she covered his hand with her own and jerked in sudden insistent strokes.
"Don't!" He snatched his hand away and stared at the drop of semen which oozed through the eyelet of his cock crown and glistened in happy announcement that there was more not far away.
"Do!" Her expression said she was completely in earnest. "I'd love to watch."
"No way!"
Dainty fingers again clamped tightly to his shaft, but with the first stroke he slapped her hand away. "Such a nice feeling to touch it," she sighed, scooping up the towel and starting for the bathroom again. "If I had one, I'd always be trying to get it hard so's I could play with it. Do you play with it lots?"
"Me? Play with myself? Hell, sis, what do you think I am?"
For long seconds she was quiet, standing with regal pride at the door and looking calmly at his aroused organ. "You're my brother, that's who, and we're the oversexed ones in this family, thank heavens." She turned to walk down the hall and he gaped at the rear view of impudent ass cheeks firmly cushioned. Knowing he was watching, she repeated, "How often, Barry?"
"Couple of times a week, I guess."
"Barry!" Her tone was total disbelief. "Truth time with big sister."
"So ... I do it every day. That so bad?"
"No." She turned from the sink and returned carrying the fresh towel. Tall and voluptuous, head tilted in curiosity, a defiant turn to her chin as she sensed his watching. "I do myself that much."
"G'wan! Girls don't!" He was dumbfounded at what he was sure was a lie and wondered why she had said it. No sign of a smile as she sank to the mattress edge.
"This girl does it and loves it."
He decided to test her. "Did you this morning?"
"Not yet." Her gaze was very steady on his groin as she positioned the cloth and then leaned forward till her lips were just a breath away from his turbulent prick. He watched the mesmerizing beauty of her delicate profile. Perfection at every point . . . hair, eyes, nose ... but it was her satiny Lips, moist and puckered, that hypnotized the frightened, delighted Barry.
She pressed a lingering kiss to the tip of his cock, then savagely tongued a freshly-appeared semen drop, licking her lower hp sensuously and turning to look at him.
"Has a girl ever ..."
"Uh-unnnhh."
"I'm going to." Smiling at his speechlessness, she twisted to give him full view and brazenly cupped her hands under her halter. "You have to help the first aider," she said quietly. "There's a snap at the back there." She angled her shoulder to make it easy.
"Awwwhhh ... look, we ... listen, Mom's coming back most any time and-"
"And I don't care. Undo me." It was the way she said it. Not a request. A command. His hand crept to the snap and, even at eighteen, he knew the moment he stripped her cover it would be a turning point that could never be reached back for again.
The white halter sprang from her tempestuous breasts and, seeing his glazed admiration, she drew her shoulders far back and smiled at his incredulous expression. "Mmmmmm ... feels so good to get out of it. I ..." She stopped suddenly, feeling his fingers at her hip. "I dare you."
She stood slowly from the bed and the teeny bikini panties remained in his hand as, hand on her hip, she posed for him in stripper brazenness. He gawked at her-from the taut nipples mounted on gorgeous globes to the prominence of her pubic mound, and he fought the need to reach and touch.
"I know what you're going to say," she whispered, sinking to his side and bending low across his middle. "It isn't right for me to suck my brother's cock."
"Golly, Kitty, I... I... ohhhh, yesss!"
She took the dark swollen tip of his prick little by little into her oral port, nibbling with torturous deliberateness, spreading the soft satin of the cap to grotesque distortion as her fist dragged down on the shaft to prepare the victim penis just as she wanted it. A million hysterical nerves trembled inside Barry, begging her to go on. Sensing his want-agony, she ovalled wider to accommodate all the fiercely distended cap. As she began to suck him, her saliva dribbled warmly down the length of his shaft and slithered into the nest of pubic hair.
Without warning, she spewed the penis from her lips' and her eyes begged as she asked, "You help me!" She seized his hand, guiding it to the curve of a breast. "Devil me!"
The tempo of her contracting cheeks as she resumed the fellatio matched the sensuous wriggle of her hips and the animated heaving of her boobs.
All that female perfection writhing in wanton delight as she mouthed his organ ... the deep erotic lightning of her siphoning lips was too much. "Suh . .. sis . . . you buh . . . better . . ." The surge was on him, charging wildly up the horny length, rushing freely into her welcoming mouth. Frenzied vibrations wracked her body as she took the full charge of his ejaculation, and he knew even in his orgasmic blur that she was in climax, too. For long seconds after the torrent had stopped, she continued to milk his penis, siphoning for last drops as her lower body continued to convulse. Finally she let the shrinking crown slip from her lips, soaked and gleaming with the mingle of her saliva and his cum. Leaning to rest on a hand, she looked into his face with bright and predatory eyes.
"Wild!" she whispered, visibly swallowing the last of his semen. "Girl could get hooked on that!"
"C'mere!" He grabbed her wrist as she moved from his side and dragged her down beside him. "You must be out of your tree and I got to be, too, but lord, Kitty, I loved it."
She was cuddly, nude, molded against him, one arm flung across his chest, her cheek pressed against his cheek as they embraced. "Thank you," she murmured, voice sultry with new desire. "You're a very special brother to let me do that"
"Got a special sister, you mean!" He squirmed and their fronts cemented in sudden urgency. Feeling his cock flesh* stretching anew, he made no move to break their embrace.
Not till it was. fully hardened, angled in hot urgency along the crease of her pressed-together thighs did Kitty act. With no movement above the hips to warn him, she lifted her leg just enough for the eager cock to spring into the valley between her thighs, then, with a triumphant exclamation, she snapped her legs together. "Gotcha!" She puckered a kiss to his lips, and her subtle thigh action push-pulling on his trapped prick suggested just one thing.
"Barry?" Her breath was warm on his earlobe and he was sure she was going to ask him to go all the way.
"Look ... I ... Kitty ..
"Shhh!" Her fingertip touched his upper hp. "You don't know what I was going to ask."
Inside she was a bubbling volcano, ready to orgasm simply from the pressure of that hot erection just outside her yearning passion center, and she panted an irresistible question: "Did you really mean you didn't think girls ever played with themselves?"
"I didn't know ..."
"Don't move now." She crawled quickly across his hip, her thighs spreading delectably as she straddled his waist. She stroked sensuously across the pubic curve, then down across the vulva, toying in deliberate self torture along the delicate flesh of her pussy cleft. "Have you seen many girls down here, Barry?"
Barry gaped helplessly. "Never. Too scared to try, guess. You're pretty there."
"You mean it or you just being nice?"
'It's wild-beautiful! Don't know how to say it, but it just looks like love lives in there. Do I sound crazy?" Beads of perspiration marked his forehead when he heard no answer and he hurried on. "It's sunshiny pink and where the opening is looks soft and tender and sort of darkish ... like ... like it's hiding a secret. Is it?"
"A big secret. Tell me if you want me to stop, but I have to do this ..." She wilted back against his legs, folding all the way down and crushing his erection under her shoulder blades. All that remained visible to Barry was the magic at the meeting place of her thighs.
If he felt pain, he was not about to admit it, lest he spoil an incredible moment. He was spectator to his sister's most personal place and he knew few had seen the wonder of it before. Her pubic mound seemed even more prominent as he looked across the curve of her love triangle, and he fought the impulse to stroke the dark down that covered part of the hillock, to see if it was as light as her hair. A trembling of the labial lips caught his eye and he watched her fingers creep over the curve of her thigh to drift to the visibly quivering slit.
"Show me," he whispered hoarsely. "Show me inside."
Eager fingers splayed the labial gates and he saw the shadowed mystery of the threshold to her vagina. Urgent now, she spread the lips wider and he saw the nubbin of her clitoris, its almond-shaped sheath far more visible than he'd ever believed it could be.
"It's so big!" Awed, he reached and was slapped , away. "Is that really your trigger?"
"It's my clitoris." She sighed. "And right now it's unhappy. Watch it get bigger." She finger-stroked in gentle circular torture around the point of mounting frenzy.
"Gosh ... it's more'n half an inch!"
A low-throated sob choked inexplicably from Kitty as she slowed the self play to nearly full stop. "I've got to tell you one thing, Barry ... I can't he and you may not like me after, but you're too good to deceive. You may think maybe no one ever saw what you're seeing."
"Please ... you don't have to tell me."
"I have to! I had a beast for a husband and for some of his kicks, he made me ..." Her throat filled and she paused, then hurried on. ". . . made me masturbate myself in front of a whole gallery 'cause he knew I've got this awful need and ... oh! ohhhh, Barry, watch me do myself then throw me out. I'll go!"
Her fingers were maniacal in their quest to burrow deep into the cunty tunnel, as if to escape the real target of her wanting; then he saw one finger dart from hiding and strum the taut clit in a fury. Instantly her body was a violent, pulsing frenzy, grinding against his as she finger-whipped the crazed clitty through her orgasm. Abruptly her seizure ended and she rolled quickly from his front, almost making it from the bed before he snared her wrist.
"Don't go!" he snarled in pretend anger. "I have to do something " He threw her unceremoniously to her back and spread her legs, indifferent to whether she would permit him or not. She watched through tear-filled eyes as he bent to her crotch and then, like a touch of heaven, his lips pressed full and warm against her cleft.
"I love you, Kitty," he said, raising to look across her quivering torso. "I respect you more than anyone I know and someday I'm going to punch out Arnold for hurting you. But can I show you how I respect you?"
"How?"
"By kissing you here. I don't care who else has ... I'm kissing it with love from me."
"Oh ... Buh ... Barry ..."
Lips confident and bold burrowed against the yielding labial flesh and a tongue bold and demanding speared into her cunty threshold. Murmuring delightedly, he tasted the moisture from her self-stimulation, then licked avidly to claim a sweet honey he had never savored before.
Kitty moaned gratefully for the strange erotic bonus. Barry's happy incoherent muttering as he tongued sent deep vibrations into her hyper-sensitized vagina. It was a new and tantalizing torture and it deviled her with a special rapture. Others had played with her as neophyte Barry was, some of them with skilled lips, some more from fear of Arnold than from passion ... but none had touched this special note.
With a squeal of sheer ecstasy she caught the sides of his head and immobilized him as his brazen tongue found the clitoris. For long moments of deliberate torture, clearly determined to explore every nerve and enjoy every sensation radiating from the tumid clit, he licked and nibbled and sucked lightly at the seething nubbin of passion run wild.
Never showing it was his first adventure in cunnilingus, he drove her to total rapture with a sudden frenzied tonguing of the tip of her ecstasy trigger and, for wild seconds that felt an eternity, she was enmeshed in chain orgasm that wouldn't let go.
"Baby doll ... you can't be my brother!" moaned Kitty, curling into his arms when he wriggled upward to wrap her in a loving embrace.
"But I am," he whispered, holding her tightly as he molded his mouth to hers. His tongue, rich with the light fragrance of her spunk bath, drove deeply and she dueled with it, finally forcing it back.
"Be careful," she warned. "In about two seconds I'm going to forget that some things are still off limits." Tiny after-spasms rippled low across her tummy. "You know lots more about girls than you pretended, Barry Carr."
"I do not," he protested softly, mulling the warning about "off limits."
"I'm not a virgin, if that's what you mean, but I never did that before."
"Oh, you're hard as a rock again!" She squirmed against his front, then forced her arms between them and beat a playful resistance against his chest "Let me go, brute!"
Then, without warning, tiny pinpricks of alarm sent waves of apprehension through her. She sensed the change in her brother and if it was a silent change, it was no less a real change. He was all at once different ... no longer boy ... no longer naive male youth ... he was a man ready to assert command. It blasted all the hypocrisies of her bedroom scheming without a word's being exchanged between them. Alone in those first days after her return home, she had fan-tasied sex play with her brother with certain clearly observed limits. They had just reached the outer limits of what she had predetermined she'd dare, if he wanted.
"Let's." His eyes staring deeply into hers said the rest
"No!" She shuddered against the power of the suggestion and her voice trembled. "It would be incest."
That's just a word." His phallus was moving in a gentle friction between their pressed-together fronts. A delayed after-spasm of his tongue love traveling low across her tummy was felt by both. "See. You really want to."
He rolled suddenly to his back, carrying her with him in a startled spread-eagle, her arms and legs out-flung in surprised vulnerability. His rampant erection charged violently through the opening of her thighs as they wrestled, only this time she wanted no part of the trapping game that had been such fun minutes earlier.
"Barry! BABREEE!" She writhed frantically against his effort to cram the head of his cock through the lips of her vagina, broke free of his one-armed grip and almost escaped him entirely. "Let me go, Barry!" She squirmed against the hand clamped to her calf, then with a sigh rested back against her heels, studying the passion looking up at her. It had come all unglued, her clever plan for fun-and-games-with-limitations. She groaned silently at her stupidity in thinking that her brother was just automatically a normal male who respected centuries-old rules of in-family no-nos.
"Remember what you were darin' me a minute ago?"
"What?" Her heart-race was slowing at the quieter sound of his voice.
"You asked me if I played with it lots and dared me to show you."
"And you chickened." Kitty saw unexpected light for the black insanity she had created which had whipped nearly all reason from her brother. She smiled accusingly at his monumental tower of cock soaring in red-capped eagerness at her. "You let me, but you chickened."
" "I'll do it... but you gotta cooperate."
"How?"
His eyes were moist with remembering. "Million times I dreamed you were right where you almost are now. Kneeling over my big penis, bare-breasted and sleek-skinned, with your beautiful legs clampin' the outside of my thighs. And you just stared and stared while I frigged myself up at you."
"That's sweet!" exclaimed the relieved girl, inching forward as he grabbed his prick and began to stroke. "Was I here in your dreams?"
"Farther up," he panted, his masturbation intensifying as he gawked at the intoxicating curvaceous body. "Way farther up!" His free hand caught hers and she leaned forward to his tugging, feeling that heady lightness of losing control of the situation, but drawn by the desperate appeal in his eyes.
"Wow!" she panted. "Some dream!" He had lured her with the boyish helpless look till she was straddled almost directly above his pumping fist, his erection's crown so close to her tender pussy-flesh she could feel its heat. A maddening itching stormed her cunty lips and she fought the seething passion that swept her. So near and yet so very far. She would never! She couldn't! It was blind ignorant selfishness that had persuaded her that limited sex play with Barry would be fun. No risk of too far. No ...
"No ... ohhh ...NO... BARREEE, don't!"
He had lip-lodged the tip edge of his thunderous cock just inside her baby-soft labial flesh. Lightning quick his hands had leaped to her hips and immobilized her attempt to fling herself away. His arm muscles scarcely flexed as he tightened his hip-hold and forced her torrid, trembling body down ... a half inch ... an inch....
Her soft cunty lips were spreading to admit the swollen corona of his brimming phallus and horror charged Kitty. It was evil and the evil felt so good! "Guh ... God, Barry, you don't know what ... what you're ..
There was an instant of electric silence as the cry died on her lips. She was sure the folds of her pussy-flesh could stretch no farther, yet she felt no pain, only the certainty that nature had conspired to give him a maddeningly oversized cock-crown.
Barry gaped at the magic link that connected their bodies. His penis had penetrated to the very edge of the protruding ledge of the cap. The tender quim lips seemed distended to maximum extremity and Kitty's eyes were panic-dilated.
"Too big, Barry!" she gasped. "Too big for me!" She saw his smile and knew he didn't buy the lie.
"Shut up." His command was low key. "Listen!"
In the trembling quiet, knowing nothing would stop his determination, she quivered breathlessly. The sound was barely audible, a whisper of flesh sealing with flesh as he urged upward and drove the thick glans fully into her cunt threshold.
Head thrown far back, a scream silent on her parted lips, eyes staring at the ceiling as if to pretend what was happening wasn't, Kitty presented a spectacle of totally voluptuous female to the possessed boy. Her breasts appeared to explode from her glorious front and the outspoken cherries said she loved what she protested. Her middle, quivering with a sizzling mixture of guilt and desire, was a harmony of dazzling curvaceous female in whom, strangely, an involuntary spasming of want was now taking over.
His fierce gripping of her hips eased as he tested her resistance. There was none. His hand drifted to the curve of her buttocks and stroked across the small of her back. It said in the only way he knew how that she was free to break the coital link ... to run from him. He stared at the snug clamp of pink and slightly puffy quim lips, as if to memorize forever how it looked to have made it this far with his sister.
The movement began slowly atop his impaling shaft. Subtle squirming of surrendering love-flesh as she urged against the invader. Still not looking down, she rocked lightly and felt the relaxation of her vagina. A weird rationale crept into her thinking ... he's already inside ... we've already done it, at least as far as anyone demanding to know would care ... Barry's cock is in me! ... Why not take it all the way ...? No lightning out of the blue struck us dead with it just the least bit inside and the least bit inside is like doin' it!
"Ohhhh, Barry!" She wilted across his front, her hands cupping his face. He was sure she was going to tear herself loose. For shuddering seconds she clung to him, then before his disbelieving eyes she straightened, still mounted on the scarcely buried prick.
"Do it!" she whispered, her voice rising. "Do it . . . do it!" Her body accented the demand in a writhing invitation as she ground against the piercing joy.
"Yeah!" He clutched her tail cheeks and guided the descent, urging himself upward and feeling the fantastic claim of clasping cunty muscles. A kind of quicksand clasping raced the length of his cock and, feeling the too-quick charge of his crisis, he steeled himself against letting go, determined to feel her completely mounted on his love spike.
She was a woman possessed as she felt their bodies grind at each other, and she knew she had to have the full length of her brother's massiveness the first time. Not really right if she didn't have it all. As one body they rolled to the side, legs and arms entwining, lips sealing the passion running so wild between them. His deep-throated cry of warning came just as her orgasm overwhelmed her and tore the ecstasy shriek from her mouth. The rapture rolled and thundered and whipped them in coital mania and slowed very reluctantly to a pulsing afterglow. Seconds became minutes before their breathing slowed.
"Soften," she whispered into his hair. "Soften, damn you! You've had enough."
"No way." His voice was hoarse, but his fingers were tender as they traced her ear. "I love you, sister."
That word! He'd used it on purpose. She took a deep breath and let the tremor pass through her body. Time to test his awareness.
"We've committed incest," she murmured, nibbling the baby flesh of his ear lobe. "You fucked your sister."
"Uhunnnhh. I loved a beautiful girl who loves me. I'm going to do it again ... now!"
Her thighs scissored tightly around his hips as their copulation thrusting began. Inside, a tumble of bizarre thoughts did end-over-ends through her cock-crazed mind. Incest gave the whole act a wild and frenzied special madness. Illicit-before whom? Vivid images splashed her mind as Barry arched upward, weight on his hand to stare down at the passion-maddened body writhing under him.
She saw her father ... her mother ... her other brother in her imagination. There, crouched on the bed, watching Barry do it to her. Wild! They were naked ... all of them ... naked and aroused and applauding the happiness she was giving and getting. Savage return to reality as a cry burst from Barry, synchronized with the shower of his semen charging deep into her vagina, launching her instantly into her own orbit of climax rapture.
Then the bedroom was quiet. Soft inarticulate murmurs of gratitude between them as the man-organ in her body lost its steel. Kisses to mask the sadness each felt as the penis slipped, glistening and limp from its tender trap. For what seemed hours they simply lay motionless holding each other, neither willing to venture a word, flippant or serious, about what they had just done. Deep within, both felt some life-shaking decision had been made between them, but a way to speak of it just wasn't in them
"Can we talk about something, sis?"
"It's a little late." Her tone was surrendered contentment.
"I mean about something else ... Graber." She stirred impatiently. "You sure know how to 29 hurt a girl. Whatever is there to talk about?" She propped to an elbow. "It's so not worth talking about I'm even changing my name back to Carr so's I won't remember I ever was Mrs. Arnold Graber."
"Great." He sounded apologetic. "I was just lookin' for a reason for us to stay cuddlin' like this."
"That needs a reason?"
"So what was it like with Arnold?"
"You wouldn't believe me."
"Try me."
Kitty sighed. "I'll never forget when I discovered how weird rotten he was ..."
CHAPTER TWO
She was silent for several seconds and Barry knew he had touched painful memories. "Arnold showed me how it was going to be from the very first night we were, married. I should have run right then and kept running."
"Why didn't you?"
"I was a fool, I know, but I thought I loved him. Anyway, I thought he was honest, even if he was weird when he begged me to go along with a 'Bund-stag.' Said it was a Graber Bavarian family tradition for the newlyweds' first night and he wanted to have some 'very dear friends,' as he called them, come start our honeymoon for us."
"You're kidding! On your wedding night?"
"I wish I was kidding ..."
The chalet at the top of the mountain was an idyllic honeymooners' retreat. It had a beamed cathedral ceiling and flagstone fireplace in the living room. No formal chairs and tables, just great cushions and a pile rug so deep it could double as a mattress.
There was a bedroom with wall-to-wall bed and, except for a very plush johnny and a corner kitchenette, that was the chalet. Definitely designed for the couple who had one thought in mind and custom tailored for the scene Arnold had pre-planned for his bride.
They arrived two-by-two during the hour after Kitty had been informed of the Graber "tradition." All members of a certain Bavarian line had a Bundstag on the first night, Arnold had insisted. They brought food. They brought drink. They brought their pretty bodies with appetites whetted for what they had seen of Dr. Graber's Kitty, though that wasn't a part of Arnold's last minute briefing.
"Kitty, this is Paula and Pete Horst."
". . . and this is Angie and Hal Turnbottom."
"... and this is Frank Turnbotten and he's Ted. Don't mind Ted-he gets that way at the least provocation. We Bavarians are very earthy and direct," Arnold had said.
Kitty found her voice as she fixed the tossed salad. "I thought you said couples, Arnold."
Her groom chuckled. "You mean Ted and Frank? They're just good friends in Pathology, darling. Begged to be allowed to come along."
"They all look at me so strangely. Like I'm one of their diseases. Even the two females do."
"Darling, here, have a drink. They're staring because you're so beautiful and because you're one of them now." He pulled her hands from the salad bowl, wiped them carefully with the towel and then wrapped her in a bear hug. She felt the eager erection in his tight slacks that let anyone who cared to know see his condition, and a roar of approval went up from the spectators at the first sign of intimacy between bride and groom.
"Notice Arnold, the careful patho, wiped her itsy-bitsy fingers before letting her touch him," teased Paula, the flame-haired assistant at Merriweather Lab. "Some kind of love life she's going to have!"
"And that's why you're all here." Arnold broke from Kitty to face the others. "Paula, you and Angela are to take my darling to the bedroom to prepare her for love."
Feeling oddly detached from all that was swimming around her in the living room and wondering how two drinks could affect her so, Kitty let herself be led away. Two females she had known less than an hour suddenly seemed dear and needed friends as she caught the predatory stares of five males.
"What's a Bundstag?" she asked nervously of Paula who led her past the massive bed toward the bathroom as Angela closed and locked the door against intruders from the living room.
"What did Arnold tell you?" Paula's hand rested lightly on Kitty's hip and there was a strange intimacy in the way she caressed slowly across the curve while they waited at the door of the room-size johnny for Angela to join them.
"Said it was a kind of smorgasbord."
Hysterical laughter burst from Angela at the suggestion and Kitty swung in annoyance to stare at the stacked platinum job who Kitty needed on her honeymoon like a hole in the head. The look in the bride's eyes got the message to the two guests, and there was moisture in a corner of Angela's eyes as she hugged both Kitty and Paula in impulsive apology.
"I'm sorry. It really is a land of smorgasbord, I guess." Angela broke her embrace and stepped into the bathroom. "Do you know what the Oktoberfest is?"
Kitty shuddered and nodded. "It's sort of orgy-time in Germany, isn't it? When a woman gives herself to anyone who wants it?"
Angela's light hair swirled as she shook her head in a vigorous negative. "It's more than that, but for a lot of females that's what it boils down to. Bundstag in Bavaria is just exactly the opposite of orgy with everyone."
The bride lifted a puzzled eyebrow. "I don't understand."
"It's a very special family way of beginning a marriage. The groom invites those in he considers his family, not necessarily blood relatives, and presents to them the girl he has taken for a wife. It is for them to show the bride their loving welcome into the family and it is for the bride to show them, well ..." Angela's voice broke and she looked toward Paula, who stepped from Kitty's side and opened her arms to the curvaceous blonde.
"... it is for the bride to show them not only that she loves to be in this family," Paula winked confidentially at Kitty, "... but that she wants them to know she has no inhibitions in her love."
Kitty opened her mouth to ask how a girl showed that, but the question never came. She stared in awed surprise as the two happy-go-lucky ones who had appointed themselves her family, clutched each other in an impetuous embrace. As they hugged, Kitty saw Paula's fingers creep to the zipper of Angela's tight cocktail sheath. As if it were a sign, Angela fingered under the roll of auburn hair for Paula's. The two dresses slithered to the girls' feet, and that they were now almost nude never seemed to be noticed by either.
They gathered the bride into the midst of their embrace, and an overwhelmed Kitty, too startled to resist, felt that same odd lightheaded detachment take her that she had experienced as the three of them left the room It was as if she were a doll to these two who no longer seemed strangers, but shockingly intimate family members who loved each other in a special way. They kissed sensuously, satin-rich lips pressed together, visibly tongue dueling without the slightest embarrassment that Kitty was watching inches away. They separated and smiled at their new family member. While Paula's sleek fingers traced up the back of the white satin street-length bridal dress, Angela, bra and panty-clad like the redhead, bent to the tub faucets to run water. '
"It's as big as a swimming pool," giggled Kitty, wondering why she felt a sensual tremor as she looked at the contoured Angela leaning over the edge of the step-down tub to test the water.
"Tepid is just right" Angela announced, straightening and turning her back to Paula. "Do me, darling."
Angela's breasts seemed to explode from the prison of her bra when Paula released the final snap, and Kitty had to stare when Angela calmly played her palms across the nipples while Paula knelt to remove her panties. It was fiercely intimate, and yet it all seemed so natural now to the newcomer. "You're beautiful!" gasped Kitty.
"Oh, that is so nice!" murmured Angela when Paula, still kneeling, nuzzled into the triangle of her sex while she drew the pale yellow panties down her friend's thighs. "Kiss it just once, please...."
Paula cooed an unintelligible something and Kitty saw the stiffened dart of her tongue spear against the under-curve of Angela's pubic mound and splay through the top of the cunty cleft. It was clearly a game they had played before. It was also a game that lured Kitty, watching from the side, wondering why on her wedding night she would feel so-a mingling of frustration and wanting.
Frustration from needing Arnold, only hours ago become her husband, and wanting for some inexplicable reason to feel the tenderness these two deliciously caressable bodies of her own sex were sharing with each other. Kitty had never been touched by a woman before the way Paula had touched her when she first led her into this bathroom. Frustrating that all Paula's attentions since had gone to torrid Angela.
] "Oohhh ... you better stop!" Angela caught Paula's underarm and drew her to her feet. Somehow bra and panties disappeared from the redhead's nubile frame, and she was as caressably nude as her voluptuously stacked friend with the silver-light hair.
"I hate you both-you're so gorgeous!" snipped Kitty, glaring at the mirror and catching the incongruity of the two strangely alluring females who were so innocently naked, while she was still fully clothed.
Angela's breasts, thrusting hard-nippled and full, were impossible not to stare at, and Paula's pert and animated boobs were special magnets which, though small, were huge in their excitement to Kitty. She wondered what madness had commandeered her senses to make her feel an attraction for her own sex which she'd never known till this day-and, at that, her wedding day!
"Paula, I do believe our newest sister is deformed!" squealed Angela, staring at the body-molding bridal dress. "Let's get her out of her gown and see."
A hand fondled" under the dark hair at the nape of her neck and Kitty felt the zipper slide and then the dress was slipped from her shoulders. No longer in the least self-conscious, she stepped clear of the white satin and, feeling them watching, she proceeded to kick off her pumps and then quickly removed her nylons, bra and panties. There was a murmur of admiration as she straightened and, confident of her nudity, looked from one to the other's reflections in the mirror. Kitty and Paula were gaping in unabashed admiration at her dazzling contouring, smiling at the state of her nipples and then impulsively hugging each other as they continued to inventory the chassis of the newest "family" member.
"I think it's the other way around," observed Angela soberly. "We should hate her. She'll drive our men crazy. How big are they?" she demanded, staring pointedly.
"I'm a forty-D cup, isn't that awful?" Kitty looked down at herself apologetically*
Slimline Paula shivered. "I'm just a teensy thirty and Angie is thirty-nine, so I hate you both."
"Who are you, really?" demanded Kitty, liking the pair more and more. "I mean, you're like family ... but..."
"But we are family," interrupted Paula. "And we're your maids-in-waiting here to prepare you for the bundstag. First we bathe...." her hand traveled slowly across Kitty's hip as she spoke. "... and we both get to know everything about you as we get you ready for Arnold."
"But... I ..."
"Everything," echoed Angela, moving up to flank Kitty on the opposite side, smiling reassuringly. "Just remember one thing, doll. From the moment you came into this family you put behind you every inhibition and all jealousies. Every one of us wants your happiness as much as we want our own. Some even more ... like the two of us. There's one rule amongst us Graber family people...."
"What's that?" Kitty tried to ignore the sensations from the pressure of her booby against her upper arm.
"The desires of the body and the wants of the men must be fulfilled first and foremost."
"Come then." Both girls took her by the hand and the three of them stepped down into the bath.
For silent moments the trio lolled in indolent nudity, letting the warm water soothe. Quite unselfconsciously staring at each other's ivory-skinned perfection, Angela and Paula openly toyed with each other's breasts, with Kitty watching enthralled at their innocent openness; then the two reached beneath the transparent waters of the bath to find the target on each other that intrigued them most.
"Watch your maids-in-waiting do each other," cooed Paula, not looking at Kitty but staring at the meeting of Angela's perfectly tapered thighs. The bath water rippled to the movement of her arm and broke the clear view the spectator had of the cunty cleft.
"Kitty likes to be a voyeur," whispered Angela, head thrown back over the rounded ledge of the tub and seeming to look at no one as she gave herself over to the playful fingers teasing her cunty lips. "Bet she's never seen another woman come from bein' masturbated."
"I ... I never ... duh ..Kitty stumbled, fascinated by the way Angela could continue to stimulate Paula's vulva, even as her own excitement was soaring.
"Kiss me, quickly," Angela panted, eyes suddenly open and fixed on Kitty.
It happened before the bride knew she had responded-an impulsive leaning to Angela's lips, and then feeling someone's fingers play with her breasts as she bent across the writhing front. Then the moan slipped from Angela's lips and Kitty broke the kiss, looking down at Paula's finger play at Angela's crotch. Two fingers were driven deeply from sight, and clearly the lovely platinum blonde was about to climax. Impetuously, Kitty leaned to kiss fiercely hardened nipples that seemed ready to leap from Angela's breast.
"Oh my God, yes!" squealed Angela, sweeping an arm behind Kitty s head to press her to the booby.
Head swimming with sheer joy at a thrill she had never known, Kitty tongued the taut cone and felt the warm wonder of another female's breast for the first time she could remember. Inside she felt wants for an unknown sexual fulfillment swirling, and distant outside--she heard the sound of voices; deep, guttural, and excited. It occurred to Kitty they had to be male voices, but in the weird captivity of Angela's passion-screams and Paula's answering shrieks of masturbated orgasm, the arrival of men on the scene didn't register. The water of the tub was splashing feverishly and the delectable bodies of her self-appointed maids-in-waiting were the most important things in her life at the moment. Even more important than her bridegroom.
With startling suddenness the frenzy of the two girls was gone and they lay passive beside her, each cupping an arm across her middle and watching her quietly.
"That was wild!" breathed Kitty, looking surreptitiously toward the bathroom door and feeling the mystery mount of the now clearly remembered male sounds. There was no seeing the door through the wide-leafed tropical plants that fringed the great tub. [
"More fun than doing it yourself," giggled Paula, twisting to look with sudden intentness at Kitty. "Do you . . . often?"
"What? Play with me?" Kitty puzzled about honesty for a moment. "Yes, of course. It's nice and it helps." It felt uncomfortable for the first time since they had entered the bathroom and she stirred against the fondling hand that crept down across her tummy suggestively.
"Let's dry our bride," exclaimed Angela, snatching her hand from Kitty's body and catching her fingers. The three stepped from the water and Kitty noticed the door was now wide open. Had there been some of the men watching? She wondered why she almost hoped so. Tenderly they toweled her body and, as she relaxed to the loving caresses concealed by the pretense of drying her, she felt the seductive impact of the two even more powerfully than before.
It seemed to be the most natural thing in the world to let them lead her from the bathroom to the gold satin chaise at the side of the great bed. A vanity table stood beside the lounging chair and when the two stretched her full length on the chaise, she noticed the bedroom door was slightly ajar. No sign of any males anywhere, spying on this totally feminine moment. *
"She's too lovely to touch," she heard one of the girls whisper to the other and simultaneously she felt the brush of a palm across her midriff as one began anointing her with a lightly fragrant cologne.
Paula was the anointer and Angela held the little vase, smiling quietly when Kitty opened her eyes at the first touch of Paula] fingertips. "What is that?" she asked, trying to identify the familiar scent. "I like it."
Angela puckered her lips suggestively to the edge of the tiny porcelain container, then traced the opening with her fingertip. "It's called 'Surrender,'" she replied.
The soothing penetrating fragrance touched every pore ... the anointing became massage and, as the kneading fingers probed the under-curve of her breasts, Kitty again opened her eyes to watch the predatory glaze in Paula's staring as she played maid-in-waiting.
"I adore them," Paula whispered. "I wish I had them but I love looking at them on you, Kitty." The fingers probed down her body and massaged across her pubic mound, around her hips and along the taut cheeks of her buttocks, sending stabbing messages of intense sexual want through the bride.
Distantly she heard whispers around the room and they were not all girls' whispers. Again the sounds of males somewhere near and now she was unable to open her eyes. Unwilling to open them, lest she break ' the spell.
"Little cocks pointing," she heard one say. "You can see her love-flesh twitch," said another. "Look at her squirm!" This voice was panting. "Think she's going to come?" Too soon."
Kitty was again helplessly transported into a dreamlike state where persons and words and actions were no more. Only feeling, and the feeling was runaway desire. A desire to be used and to use-to love and be loved-to be possessed and to^ possess these two lovely creatures doing this sensuous thing to her body. Fleetingly the fact that it was her wedding day-that she was thinking such thoughts and had never had a sexual experience with another woman before touched her mind, then left.
A fantastically light touch, unidentifiable, drove little cries to her lips, then, grabbing at the torture-something deviling her breast, she felt the long feather. It escaped her clasp and Angela swept her hand away, then returned to the titty torture. .
"Oh, please ... I don't think I can stand it!" she moaned.
"You aren't supposed to stand it," cooed Paula's voice from somewhere low on her body. "Let yourself go as we kiss you."
Uncontrollably, her hips responded to the summons of desperate want, as she felt warm lips press against her palpitating pussy-cleft. Then the lips were gone and other lips, even hotter, took their place. Gentle nibbling of sweet satin fullness, maddening the labial flesh, then unwilling to stay outside, tonguing impudently through the crack to bring another cry from a surrendered Kitty. Another mouth was at her most secret place, and passion-mathematics suddenly added up to the realization that there must be three persons making love to her down there.
Her eyes, wide and startled, opened to stare at the ring of faces that surrounded her. Five men and the two girls were crouched over her prostrate body, all enamored of the most intimate part of her. None seemed the least surprised when they saw she had opened her eyes. And no one appeared about to continue the oral love Angela and Paula and one of those men, maybe her husband, maybe not, had begun.
"Do it for us." It was Arnold speaking and his face 42 was strangely contorted. Unlike the others, Arnold was not pretty, his cheeks were blotched with red and white spots and his eyes were dilated almost maniacally. "Play with yourself I Let us see how big it is!" Her bridegroom's voice was almost hysterical.
The awareness crept over Kitty even as she felt her last defenses collapsing, that this man had been a terrible mistake. All the magic of intellectual brilliance that seemed to surround him at the lab, all the continental self-assurance and Ivy League sophistication Arnold may have once had, was gone. She knew instinctively he was not going to be her husband, even if by law he already had just become that.
"Watch!" Kitty cried suddenly and the force of her cry made Arnold back away in surprise. "I want you all to watch what my love place for my husband looks like and what I can do to it ... what you're making me do to myself I"
Her fingers lay across the curve of her pubes and for a brief second were motionless. Then her legs were opening and the girls at either side were making room. The tender lips of her cunty gate were spreading to her fingers and every eye was focused at that one point of her body. Gasps broke from the spectators as she splayed the sunshiny-pink flesh just under her labia majora and exposed a tumid and jutting clitoris. Her love trigger was on, full display and the sensation that electrified it to be on exhibition to five men and two girls were like nothing Kitty had ever known.
"Make yourself come before us," urged Arnold and his busy arm, barely noticed by a now-possessed Kitty, said he was playing with himself. She wanted to look to see, to beg him to save himself for their lovemaking, but she was paralyzed with a greater want. An audience was waiting breathlessly to see her do it.
She squirmed and wriggled to force her calves under her thighs and lift her lower body from the mattress, then, arching brazenly to present herself, she spread her cunty lips wide and fingered inside.
"Look at it quiver!" exclaimed a hoarse male voice.
"Man, that is out of this world!" gagged another.
"Masturbate it!" Arnold croaked. "We want to see it make you come!"
"Yes!" gasped Kitty. "I will!" Her finger was strumming in busy torture of the stiff clitty. "And when I come, then you've got to hide me from all the staring!'" She stared directly at Paula and Angela.
Kitty's finger moved in a slow light touch of the hyper-sensitized clit, then, unable to restrain the need, she speeded the pace and maddened the taut trigger. Her breasts, rich and firm, were thrust in ripe exuberance from her front, and the two men at either side of her shoulders, unable to resist, dropped to the prone position to kiss the animated boobs. No one tried to stop them and Kitty was too far gone to protest.
"Uhhh ... oohhhh, yes ... OH!" She was locked in her orgasm and, for a few frantic seconds of coming, she was alone in a world that her fingers-had created. Then as she passed the crest and felt the emotion draining, she sensed a new assault-on her vagina first, then at her breasts. It was Paula, bending across her waist holding a tiny syringe, spraying a light mist which felt like a cooling balm in her furnace-heated cunty threshold.
Before Kitty could understand the sensation, it was misting across her breasts and seemed for a moment to tranquilize the feeling the two brazen males had stirred in her nipples. But the soothing was only for a moment. As the moisture evaporated, a million pinpricks of raw female want maddened her clitty and the tenderized boobs. For a last second of coherent thought Kitty wondered if the spray held an astringent, and then she had no reason power left at all, only overpowering desire.
"Oh, God . . . Arnold!" she wailed to a husband she knew must be near. "I need you!"
"After the others have you, my dear," came the thin reedy voice from the back of the circle of faces.
Kitty's arms flung wide in invitation, even as a deep hurt at Arnold's words burned in spaced-out thoughts. "Everyone of you ... kiss me to death!" She found Paula's eyes. "Put your pretty tongue inside me and make me come ... you, too, Angela."
Delighted males watched the two differently stacked, totally tantalizing girls crouched at Kitty's wide wonderful hips, stretching sensuously to obey her plea. Platinum-blonde mingled with flame-red as Angela's hair tumbled sexily across Paula's in a kind of veil, covering the lesbian moment.
The men had stripped themselves, and kneeling directly behind Angela was Paula's husband, Pete. He caught the. eye of Hal Turner and there was a short, jungle-like, fragmented second of uncertainty as the men looked at each other. Then Hah crouched at Kitty's forehead, grinned as he saw Pete's massive cock angled toward his wife's unprotected ass.
"Fuck her out of her mind, Pete," urged Hal, kneeing closer to Kitty whose eyes were squeezed tightly shut. "I'm going to be sucked by a bride."
All eyes turned quickly to Arnold to see how the groom of the most beautiful female any had seen before in their weird play would take it. Arnold was naked-wild and too preoccupied with wriggling for position to watch Paula and Angela play with his wife to even hear. In his hand was the squab-like monstrosity of aroused man-flesh which was Arnold Graber's only distinguishing mark. Somehow it seemed unfair for so thin and frail a body to boast so massive a play-organ.
When Pete nudged his prick against the luscious under-tail of Hal's wife, he was committed. This delectable platinum witch had eluded him for years and she was too locked into her girl-play with wild-bodied Kitty to know. He shoved and there was a brief stiffening of Angela's body, but no resistance. She was far gone in lesby-loving the bride. With a bullish cry he seized her hips and drove into her vagina from the rear, lip-lodging his cock-crown, readying to pump into her in the awkward coital angle.
For one startled moment Angela lifted her head from the taste thrills of Kitty's cunt and saw her husband staring intently at her as Pete urged his cock into her cunt. There was a bemused smile on Hal's lips and Angela glared angrily at him in the last split second of self-control. "Watch, Hal!" she shrieked. "I'm committing adultery right before your eyes and I'm loving a sweet virgin at the same time!"
"Yeah-yeah!" shrilled Arnold, a bridegroom beside himself with sheer delight at the momentum his friends were giving his wedding-night orgy. He watched the expression on his bride's face when her eyes caught his at that instant. Kitty was passion-maddened and at the same instant resenting the trap he'd made for her.
No way to tell her before that these were friends and not family ... he had counted on her gullibility to make her believe it. Just as he counted on her lovable nature to forgive him later and let him continue the games he was setting in motion tonight.
It had to be done on their wedding night. Arnold had determined that much earlier. One day later would have been too late. He had to hook Kitty on multiple sex and kinky sex and his sexual play the night she was wed. It was going well. , "Do it, Hal!" Arnold squealed excitedly as he watched the attempt of the male kneeling at his wife's forehead.
Hal Turner boasted a top-heavy organ and now, kneeling as close as he could get to Kitty, her lovely hair a dark backdrop to his tumultuous erection, he gripped the shaft and wigwagged it across her face. Her eyes followed the track of the pendulum swing of his cock, then closed as if disgusted. The truth was, she was shutting out all sights, giving herself totally to feeling and the feeling taking her at that instant was Angela's tongue, busy in her cunty threshold.
Angela, in a delirium of sex-joy, being fucked in clitty-crazing shallow thrusts even as she tasted sweet Kitty's passion-flesh in lesbian love, felt orgasm surge as Pete speared into her cunty threshold. Unwilling to surrender her play with Kitty as climax claimed her, Angela seized fiercely at Kitty's hips and burrowed frantically into her cunt to suppress the want to scream.
A cry of unwonted ecstasy broke from Kitty's lips, forced by Angela's tongue dividing her quim lips and driving her to the brink of orgasm. It was the signal to Hal, poised and ready at her head. One last hesitating second as he gawked at the angelic innocence of her face, eyes tightly closed against her passion, lips ovalled in surprise at the violence of her emotion. He angled his prick downward at ruby-rich lips and the gleaming crimson crown seemed wider than Kitty's mouth.
With a bullish grunt he shoved the horny penis cap into an unsuspecting oral port. The cry on Kitty's lips was stifled and her eyes flew open in disbelief. There before her eyes ram-rodded the cock-shaft. A hot gamey hugeness was filling her mouth: the proffered crown of all this delicious man-meat. The words "wedding night" kept tickling her mind's delirium. She knew now she was being used by Arnold's friends, but at the moment there was only simple want, filling her for love from whomever-friends ... family ... female . .. male....
Action all around her stopped, and only the playmate at her crotch continued the lesby-torture while the rest stared at the fellatio-frenzy that had taken the bride. Hands cupped to the sides of the shaft to keep it from leaping from her mouth, Kitty munched and siphoned Hal's cock.
To a watching Dr. Arnold Graber it was a dream coming true. For a year he had wooed Catherine Carr, R.N. in all the conventional courtship ways. But from the moment he'd seen her as a new nurse in the halls of Lebanon Hospital where he was resident pathologist, a homely and often hurt Arnold had dreamed of the day he would show his friends Kitty, his passionate bride. Show them he wasn't a character to be pitied.
Angela, Hal, Paula, and Pete had taken him into their sex-fests which they called "bundstags." While they had insisted they liked him, kinky as he was, he suspected they liked him most because they were his underlings at the hospital.
Now, equipped with wife, this-his wedding night-was to Arnold Graber the night he moved into equal status with the rest of them. He had brought to their games the prettiest body any of them had ever seen, a luscious, craving innocent with the grown-up female form and the childlike nickname "Kiddie-carr."
To Arnold his bride was the summa cum laude of all his pathology exhibits. Kitty, he intended, would from this night forward be offered to his friends in the wildest exhibitions of the root meaning of "pathology"-a study of passion. He gaped at the enflaming curvaceousness of his bride, her nude body bent, and contorted in passionate response to the clitty-loving of platinum Angela, even as she sucked the penis of Angela's husband, stuffed into her pretty lips in stiffened ripeness. Kitty's fabulously overdeveloped breasts leaped in rigid-nippled response to the sensations she was taking. Her torso, buttermilk flesh of unblemished perfection and straining curves, writhed to the taste of Hal's cock and the touch of Angela's tongue-a sea of sex-motion.
For one glazed second Kitty's eyes opened wide and filled with disbelieving wonder as she stared at her groom. Flame-haired Paula lay coiled at Arnold's side, helping him masturbate his grotesquely thick phallus, not one foot away from the startled face of his wife of less than six hours. It was at that instant that Hal's orgasm gripped him and the first racing drops of his semen charged into Kitty's mouth.
Unable to put the crazed jigsaw of her emotions together-with Angela tongue-crazing her clitoris, and Arnold actually being masturbated by another woman whose slim lower body had been twisted rudely to give a strange male full coital exposure of her cunt-Kitty suddenly dragged the ejaculating prick from her lips and aimed it directly in her face.
"Is this what you want, Arnie?" she screamed, pumping Hal's discharging phallus with a viselike grip as she gaped at her groom. "That's mine ... mine!" she shrilled as the first sparkling drops of Arnold's cum flew.
A cannonade from both cocks sprayed, taking the distraught bride across cheeks and chest, sprinkling sperm drops in her lovely brunette hair. To the spectators, it was two-man passion for a woman displayed in a never-before-watched way. Two orgasm-driven pricks were discharging their cum in open frenzy for this new member of the Bundstag. Angela, lifting her head from its burrowing deep into Kitty's crotch, saw the bride's quivering lips oval to readmit Hal's erection and claim that last of his ejaculation.
Then it was done and the bedroom was totally silent, except for the labored after-breathing of the playmates. It was Paula's Pete who moved first, disengaging himself from his coital bind with Angela and drawing her from her embrace of Kitty's lower body.
"It's time to share her," he murmured and there was no mockery in his voice as he hugged the woman he had just tried unsuccessfully to bring to climax while she loved another woman. He ground his penis, already at freshly-inflated readiness, against Angela's tummy as he brushed tumbled platinum lengths from her cheek. "I didn't bring you on, did I?" he whispered.
"How'd you know?"
"Because I fired off a volcano and you only quivered for me, but when Kitty started to come, like WOW!"
Angela's eyes dropped. "I loved our doing it, Pete," she murmured, almost inaudibly. "Specially in front of my horny hubby. But, I don't know, Kitty's so sweet and her clitty is like baby-hard. Like a baby boy's prick. It's a pricklet." Her voice rose. "And it's for everyone in the family. Right, Arnold?"
Arnold made no response. In a sudden sentimental after-attack of remorse for trapping his bride into such sexual chaos on her wedding night, he was crouched at her side, staring down at her beauty. Long dark lashes concealed her eyes; unsmiling lips parted slightly in a suggestion of pouting let a little drool of Hal's semen slither down the curved perfection of her chin to her ivory-perfect throat. She lay there nude and conquered, breasts heaving in slow, quieting post-orgasmic yearning. The nipples stood proud and turgid, nearly transparent in sunshiny-pink freshness, almost as though they had known excitement for the first time. But not satisfaction.
Her restless writhing against an invisible antagonist told the story of her lack of fulfillment in the action just finished. Kitty's pubic mound, a prominent hillock at the meeting of her smoothly tapered thighs, seemed to pulse, and her lovely legs, spread without modesty before the audience, opened to spectator view her love-lips. The pussy-cleft seemed to move visibly in palpitating readiness. Arnold threw an arm across her midriff and dragged his frail body partially across her hips and his hard-on pressed body against her leg.
A whisper from her husband opened eyes that had been closed against whoever was next to take his place and Kitty stared bewildered into Arnold's face. "I need you," she moaned, hugging the man in fierce possessiveness. He was ugly naked, but in that moment Kitty knew if he would end all this he would be forever beautiful as her man. "Please, Arnie ... cuh ... con ... sonnn ..."
"What, darling?" he bent to mouth juicily at $he protruding nipple just under his chin. "What do you want me to do?"
"Ohhhh, Arnie ... could ... couldn't we consooo . . . consummate our . . . our marriage?"
"Yes, Arnold, do it .�." Angela's eyes were wet with tears of mixed feelings. Pity for a girl who had drawn Arnold Graber, M.D., for a husband and hope for herself that after once with Arnie, Kitty would want anything but her husband. "Take her, Arnold!"
Graber twisted atop Kitty and glared at Angela. "And spoil the Bundstag? Never! First she shows love for all my family and you ..." He grabbed Angela's wrist with one hand and Paula's with the other. "You two will be her love pillows!"
He wrenched Angela and Paula over onto their backs, heads-to-tails to provide a field of action if the girls wanted each other, then, cackling shrilly, seized Kitty's arms and dragged her unceremoniously on her back across the succulent eagerness of the two female forms.
"Show her glans clitoris to this austere assembly of the medical community," ordered Arnold in a voice cracking with emotion at the sight of the three outspread nude dazzlers displaying their wealth to five males.
"Show them, Angela," hissed Paula, her hand creeping around the wide contour of Kitty's hip and moving toward the crotch.
With a kind of jungle savagery, the two splayed Kitty's labial flesh and exposed an erected clitoris, standing with all the fervor of a cock, projecting its need with the same sweet eagerness as her nipples.
"It's a pricklet! Play with it again!" demanded Arnold, wriggling on his knees to a position that would give him the best view of all three females.
Robot-like, surrendered to the inescapable truth that she had married a freak, Kitty's fingers found the hyper-sensitized nubbin of her clit and began to strum, even as she began to chant in echo of Arnold's clinical pretense.
"This is my glans clitoris . . . it's really my prettiest part ... this is my glans clitoris ... it's really my aaahhhh....!"
Her body was an irresistible invitation to the male spectators as the finger-triggered orgasm stormed every muscle in her body and turned Kitty into a writhing inferno of female want atop the gorgeous flesh-mattress of Paula and Angela.
"I want her first," howled Pete and, still agonizing at his failure to bring Angela on, he threw himself across the bride and without warning stuffed his erection through the yielding quim lips.
Paula, turned on by the sensual madness of husband Pete's being first to take the bride in intercourse on her wedding night, dove between Angela's legs for comfort. Quick return of the affection as Angela, wriggling to position under the copulating pair atop them," found the moist and fluttering vulva of her favorite playmate.
Once mounted, Pete abruptly slowed his pumping thrusts, determined to milk his love of Arnold Graber's wife to the fullest. Graber was a guy whose guts Pete had long hated for his superior attitude in the hospital lab, and his weakness in a full sexual role. He grinned evilly at the maniacal longing in Arnold's eyes as he watched Pete slowly drag his, sopping dick from Kitty's vagina.
"Lookie, Arnie old buddy," he crowed. "I'm takin' virgin cunt. Your wife's! Goddamn it man, she has the sweetest snatch a man ever fucked into! Look at it!" He had withdrawn the long shaft of his cock almost to its extremity, the bulbous protruding ledge of the purplish crown just beginning to show. His eyes were baleful as they stared into Arnold's. "Look at her twat jump for wantin' me!"
"Darling! Darling!" squealed Arnold, pounding his uncontrollable erection as he threw himself across Kitty's hip and wormed between their bodies. "Pretty Kitty's pussy is all puffy!"
The incredulous guests of Arnold Graber s wedding night watched the kinky pathologist lick voraciously at the wide-stretched cunty flesh, while Pete held himself braced away from Kitty's trembling frame.
"Oh, my God . . . Arnold . . . I'm coh . . . cuh . . . cominnggg!" wailed the tortured bride, unable to stand the pressure of Pete's swollen corona against her clit and the inflammatory licking of her husband's tongue.
Arnold barely escaped being crushed as Pete dropped across Kitty's frame with a bullish roar, plunging full cock-power to the hilt and letting his ejaculation fly wildly into the frenziedly clutching vagina.
Behind Pete crouched Hal, and then Frank, and after Frank, Ted. One after another they ravished the reluctantly surrendered glories of Kitty Carr, each showing new ecstasy stars to their trapped playmate. In the sensual whirlpool of assault by four coitally-wild men, Kitty loved them back with abandon, feeling an irrevocable contempt for Arnold grow as he played with himself time after time, refusing to take her in the many opportunities presented.
"Catherine Carr is Kitty Carr and she's a kiddie-car!" chortled happy Hal when he disengaged a second time and knelt to watch the next in line. "And is she ever a ride!"
"But she's a Graber now," laughed the newest male mounted atop the bride. "That's pronounced Grabber ... not Graber. God, what a tight box! She really is a virgin, Arnie, baby!"
No more, tumbled the cock-delirious thoughts of Kitty. She remembered what now seemed incongruous and silly-that she had held herself chaste through years of temptation, going only so far in her sex play on dates. And all that self-control had come to this.
By morning light the chalet was deserted and she lay in the massive bed that was to have been the heaven of her introduction to life with Arnold Graber. Now, looking across at the slender wisp of a kink who had disgraced her and himself in the name of something called a "Bundstag," she knew she was looking at a dreadful mistake.
For two years the mistake went on. Each meeting with the Horsts and Turnbottoms and their friends and their friends' friends was worse and more personally humiliating to Kitty, once the orgy wonder was past. At last, without a word of warning, Kitty took herself to the attorney, quietly declared her intention to divorce Arnold, and warned him if he tried to stop her she would embarrass him at the hospital. She had to get out of this pretense at marriage some way.
Not once in the two years had Arnold ever had a normal one-for-one heterosexual experience with Kitty. In at least thrice-weekly meetings he had put her on display as a nymph who couldn't do normal things but had to exhibit her glorious body and make others watch her get her kicks. All of it was a he and a cover-up for Arnold's personal problem. He had gotten what he wanted-status with his friends as having been able to produce a gorgeous female as his wife-a wife who was to be his slave and the dumb object of his autoerotic play. Until the divorce.
"I'll kill the sonofabitch!" growled Kitty's brother as she ended the account of her misery.
"Don't, please . . ." Her arm shot across his middle. "I never thought we'd do what we did a while ago, but I never thought a lot of things ... and I ... I want you to fuck me very hard with that giant." She stared at his muscled magnificence. "You could kill him, I know, but then they'd send you to jail and ... and, well, it's all over now and it's awful to think of you wasting away in a cell someplace." She glanced across the bronzed and rippling power of his torso and stared fixedly at his fierce erection. "Besides, ifs all over with Arnold now. Just today I went back to my maiden name so I'm Kitty Carr again. God, Barry, I've got to ask something."
"Ask." '
Her fingers crept to the base of his turbulent cock. "The minute I started tellin' you all the devil things Arnold did, you got hard and huge. What would you have done if you had been at the wedding night ... like ... you know, at that Bundstag. Would you have taken me the way the other men did?"
Beads of perspiration broke suddenly on Barry's brow. "Gosh, sis, I don't know. Arnold was a rat and I'd like to punch the bastard silly for makin' you do those things, but honest, I don't know. I could see you just the way you looked with each one of the guys and jeez, I can't help myself, I guess. I'd like to have been any one of 'em, or Angela or anybody who got to kiss you and ... well, damn it ... to fuck you out of your skull."
Kitty shivered visibly and her fingers crept up the thick white stalk of Barry's phallus. "One reason I love my brother is he's honest Yd he if I pretended it wasn't fun, but that's where I'm mixed up and part of the reason I'm home, I guess. I feel like a failure as a wife to Arnold. Even if he is a creep, it hurt my ego not to make him want me as his lover more'n anything. So, I guess I just feel likea failure as a wife for any man ever."
"Gosh, Kitty, don't!" he exploded. "Any halfway normal guy'd go outta his tree loving you. He wouldn't make you exhibit your clit or play with yourself or screw all his friends or hang you by your heels while he-"
"Whaaaatt?" Kitty pushed to a sitting position and stared down at the suddenly red-faced Barry. "How did you know about ..." Her voice trailed off to silence as she thought back. How could her brother have known about that freakish series? "Okay, brother mine, 'fess up! You're hiding something."
He gave a savage exclamation of disgust at himself and, giving a gentle shove, toppled her to her back, mounting her in one continuous motion. "There's only time for a quickie before the others get home, so I'm goin' to tell you how I know, while I give you something to sleep on. Kiddie-car ... that's a helluva name!"
"Oh, dooo," cooed Kitty, snuggling her thighs together to block the entry of Barry's cock-crown. "Little brother, confess."
"I snuck around your place one night up there in the village. I'd heard you were goin' nuts with this creep Graber and I guess I came to find out if you needed help."
"You saw?" She tightened her thighs and fought against the sweeping of lightheaded dizziness that wanted to let the phallus in.
"Damn right! I was hiding in your hall closet when this bunch of clowns arrived. Then Arnold led you, all covered in that loose-fitting Hawaiian thing 'luau' gown he called it-straight to the middle of your living room."
Her eyes were saucer wide. "You were out in the hall watching?"
"Behind that big tropical plant. I should have busted in then, but you had that look on your face that made me wonder if you wanted to play. What'd Arnold call it, 'suck roulette'?"
She nodded. "It was his idea, that harness that held me upside down suspended from the rope from the ceiling. He had a real horsewhip and once, when I refused, he gave me a taste of the tip of it and I never refused again till I ran. He'd spin me slow and round and round I'd go in the middle of a circle of at least twelve males. It just drove them nuts and me nuts, too, once I gave up and did it. I must have looked like a witch!"
"A sexy witch," grunted Barry. "Your hair is so long it almost touched the floor and your breasts stuck out even more'n usual and that's what stopped me. You really had titty hard-ons while they made you do it"
"Titty hard-ons," mused Kitty. "That's what it felt like. You know, those games went on most of a night. Arnold wouldn't let me down till I had sucked off every one of his guests. And if I stopped in front of someone I'd done before, even just done, I had to do him again unless he let me off. But whaf'd you do the night you came spyin?"
"I went out of my mind," he admitted. "You had me confused and I thought maybe you'd flipped and, well, hell, I went Peeping Tom. I pulled it out of my pants and I jerked myself off and then I snuck out the way I came."
"Just once?"
"Huh?"
"You only jerked off once over what you saw?" Kitty's eyes twinkled mischief and her body under his squirmed to open a passage for his copulation. "Truth time, brother."
"All right, so I did it a bunch ... till I wore myself out."
"How many times."
"Who counts?"
"I count," she giggled. "So far tonight I count only one true heterosexual act and I'm afraid you're all wind."
"Damn!" His body English ground the epithet into the mattress along with the wriggling rapture-driven Kitty. In fast demanding thrusts he drove her lavish contours against the firm resistance of the Seeley and, in quick mounting excitement, they reached together for their ecstasy.
"Oh, Barry, I'm home! I'm home," moaned Kitty moments later when they lay separated and holding hands in the semi-darkness. "Oh, thank you for getting by my hang-ups."
"Mmmmhh." He seemed preoccupied. "So, what do you figure Princeton has to offer now that you've come back?"
"It has lots. I'm going to enroll in Merriweather and take my Masters. An R.N.M.S. can just about pick her work."
"What's your pick?"
"Promise you won't laugh?" She waited for his nod before going on. "I'm going to take grad study on the subject of libido and virility and fertility in the male. See, they have this great lab at Merriweather and I've already signed up. They seem to like me and I'll be part of the Testing Clinic and Center experimental staff. Lots of privacy to do my own research on the subject."
"Like what's to be researched about male virility? Thought they knew all."
"As long as they don't know what makes an Arnold into a man hung up his way or what makes another male unable to produce sufficient motility in his sperm flow, they don't know much. I want to learn and maybe that's selfish. Next time round I intend to be a lot more choosey and know what turns a man on, too."
"Baby, you already know all that." Barry rolled to his side and let her see what was happening anew at his groin. Her eyes brightened, then dulled. k
"Damn! I just heard a car turn into the drive. Must be Mom'n Daddy and Dennis back."
With an oath Barry grabbed for her hips as she tried to slide from the bed. "Quick! Let me shove it in real fast and give you something to dream about."
"Go way!" squealed Kitty, dragging herself from his clasp. "Tomorrow. Everyone will be out before nine and I don't have to be at the hospital till ten. See you. Bye-bye." Snatching her bikini pants from the floor, she dashed for the door, then paused just before exiting. "And thanks, big brother. Barry ... don't!"
He was spread-eagled on the mattress, his phallus fully inflated, begging her return to its horny invitation. No reply, as he stared at the stacked nude poised at his door and pounded fiercely at his cock. "This is what Dennis does a bunch over you, too!"
"Damn you!" she cried, dashing from the temptation and deliberately leaving the door ajar to make his self-play complicated as the sound of the kitchen door opening reached up the stairwell.
"Everyone asleep up there?" called Dixie Carr to her two oldest children.
There was no answer from the second floor.
CHAPTER THREE
"You mean I get this room for my work along with others in the class, of course." It was a little hard to grasp, and Kitty looked quizzically into the eyes of the Director of Graduate Studies at Merriweather Hospital.
Henderson Windham smiled and shook his head. "No, Catherine, it's all yours. You may on occasion have to share it, but you brought with you a cum laude record from Lebanon Hospital and that's a sort of Johns Hopkins with honors in the nursing field to us here at Merriweather. We want to keep you with us and we want you to be comfortable. Your only responsibility will be to the lab chief and to me. He will monitor your samplings and your chemical analyses."
"Well, thank you very much, Dr. Windham."
"Mister will do nicely, thank you. You know Princeton; you've grown up here. We don't use the formal; the 'Doctor is just assumed among academic people. As a matter of fact, when you feel more at ease in your environment, you may call me "Henderson or Hen...." The white crew cut bobbed as he chuckled. "... or just H.W. You're with friends and you're involved in a very much misunderstood study. So good luck and don't let anyone push you around. Just call for help." Even as he spoke, Henderson felt the headiness of the new adventure. His reputation for sternness with all grad students stood to be blown to atoms by his informality with this new one. But something about her dragged the words from him, "Just keep it formal in the hospital corridors where the patients and the other students hear."
"Thank you." She couldn't find the courage to call a man thirty years her senior by any of his suggestions and, feeling a trifle foolish, put her hand weakly into his. It was then she noticed what her nervousness to make a good impression had made her overlook. Dr. Henderson Windham was showing a pronounced bulge directly under where their hands met. "I am really looking forward to my research and you're very nice to give me such a beautiful place to work."
Her glance moved round the room deliberately and slowly, to give him a chance to adjust his slacks and hide what had swollen even more. He saw her look at the tiled counters and the racks of test tubes; the day-bed in the corner and the exam table in the little alcove over by the sink. "Thought this layout would get you started, but you just call the building super if you need other gear or things rearranged. Tell me, Miss Carr, and it stays 'Miss Carr' till you tell me it's Ms., or call me Hen-What precisely do you think you will focus study on in your lab work? The areas of virility and fertility and libido are very broad."
She looked at him, wondering if it was a trap question to see if she was serious in her study of male sexual problems. 'To be honest, I haven't decided, but I believe I'm going to focus on sperm fructolysis, perhaps get the lab to let me use some of their migrameter equipment and make the first inquiry into sperm motility."
Henderson nodded thoughtfully and she smiled to herself at his move to put the examining table between them to hide the state of his groin. It didn't seem to bother his concentration, she thought, admiring the Ivy League cool.
"It would be a fine thing," he observed, looking calmly into her eyes, "to have a really imaginative study of some aspect of human sexuality going on at Merriweather. It can be your Master's thesis almost without formal class hours required, I suspect. Your background is superior in academic things," he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry to note you were married to Arnold Graber."
"As a total ass." Henderson flattened his hands in a sign that meant the subject was closed. 'Tell me, do you think you might stay with this inquiry into sexuality of the male for more than the two years required for the degree?"
"I don't know," admitted Kitty, laughing lightly. "Maybe we can bring the center of sexual studies out of Chicago and away from Masters and Johnson. I'm very interested."
"You'll have carte blanche to all equipment, Miss Carr . . ." He chuckled, though the laugh was a little tight, she noticed. "... and where will you recruit your donors for the necessary ... you know ..."
"Sperm?"
He slapped his thigh. "I like that about you. You're very direct."
It was time to take a chance. Kitty gambled that what she read in his eyes said it was right. "I'll get it from various sources. There's a stranger donor section in the artificial insemination experiment lab over at Rocky Hill, but I'd like to get it right here."
Windham frowned thoughtfully. "You'd ask discreetly, of course."
"Of course." Kitty rounded the table, heart pounding at the chance she was taking. "Like the lucky dollar for a new business, why don't you be my first donor of a sampling for good luck?"
His face flushed darkly and her heart skipped. "You know, I just might." He looked mysteriously over his shoulder to be sure the door was closed. "I could know your routine then. How do I get the sampling to you ... I mean, it's not exactly a urinalysis."
She giggled irrepressibly. "You have to masturbate it into this."
Aware of his choked reaction, she turned to the sink for a test tube, handed one to the man and headed for the door. "I'll just wait outside the door. Now if I'm not mistaken that button by the. cot is a nurse call button. Flip it on when you have my sperm specimen." Swinging airily away from the nonplussed Director of Graduate Studies, she strode to the door.
It was less than five minutes before the red light showed over the door and Kitty hurried back into the room. Henderson Windham, blushing and clearly embarrassed, grinned sheepishly. "I never have been much at doing it like this. I hope you believe me, I would be honestly honored to be your first experiment and also to see what you discover of my sperm motility. But I can't seem to."
It called for daring and Kitty was up for it. "You must be my first experiment, Dr. Windham. Now, let's see ..." Her voice drifted, then her eyes danced. "It's easy. We're both in science and we're going to keep it clinical, except for my encouragement"
"Encouragement?" He leaned against the examining table and the bulge was back, but this time he made no effort to hide it.
"Yes." Her fingers found the belt buckle and then the zipper and without waiting permission, she slid the limp penis into the open. Ignoring his sharp intake of breath, she milked the organ in deliberate stimulation and watched it climb in steadily surging eagerness. Remarkable in a man of sixty plus, she thought. She ignored the inarticulate gagging sounds.
"Now, that's fine." She shrugged from the beige three-quarter length coat and, as if it were a daily routine, stepped to the clothes tree by the closet to hang it carefully. "Just use your imagination any way you want. I'll work around so you won't have to feel embarrassed with me in the room while you're doing it. Don't forget, I need the sampling in the test tube. Think of me as your wife."
"Yes ... yes, of course. You're awfully nice to do this." His urgency with his prick could be heard in pumping flesh sounds, and Kitty fought the urge to turn and watch.
"Ridiculous of me!" grunted Windham. "Must have stage fright."
"Can I help any way?" Desperation stormed into her thoughts. A misstep could hurt her or even drive her from Merriweather Hospital and opportunity, but she sensed that this was a man with far more than clinical interest in her work. Taking a deep breath, she made the move, arms extending high above her head as she drew her sweater up from her shoulders. "I think we must be willing to stimulate the contribution," she said, dropping her skirt and moving around the side of the room "Tell me what you see."
"Miss Carr, I wouldn't dare," came the croaked answer. "Try!"
"You want to know, young lady? I'll tell you then. I see you walkin' around with flesh-colored bikini panties and a see-through bra and your pretty ass curved and begging for it!" His voice went shrill and high and she tensed in surprise. "And I want to see more! Shove those gorgeous tits right in my face!"
She acted on the impulse to do his command, turned and walked slowly toward him, watching him grip his cock, pounding with one hand, clutching the test tube in the other.
"I ... tell me what you see!" he demanded, when she stood before him.
"I'll tell you," she said sultrily. "I see your huge shiny prick sticking straight out and aiming at me. That beautiful thing is ten feet long and three feet wide and you're jerking it off because you love my seeing what a gorgeous thing it is and you've always wanted to fly in a girl's face!"
"Yes!" screamed the passion-driven doctor. "Yes, I have! I have ... all these years I've wanted to blast all over a beautiful girl, right while she was looking and wanting."
His fist pumped at a furious rate and suddenly his groan sprang at her. "Ohhhh, Miss Carr...yessss!"
Before she could duck, the discharge caught her, spraying and cascading, then trickling down her astonished eyes to her cheeks and dripping to her bra. With a cry she leaped for the test tube in his fingers, just missing the last drops. She had completely forgotten her experiment and lost the specimen!
"Oh, dear!" She leaned against the wall feeling very stupid. What could be the aftermath of such a fiasco that pretended to be the start of a graduate study program? It could kill all her hopes. Professional status in jeopardy, she stepped proudly from the corner, ignoring her scanty attire. "Come here." She said it in a quiet, clinical monotone, motioning to the examining table.
She glared at the pendant muscle dangling now from his front with disgusting laziness. At sixty-plus what chance, she wondered, of bringing it to a head again?
"He's such a sweet little cock," Windham heard her murmur when he was seated. "All curly and shriveled. Even that way he's pretty. And he's not going to cheat me out of my first experiment that way ..." Her fingers massaged along the limp penis and squished the jellylike form. She stroked back and watched the foreskin peel away from the crimson cap.
"What I am going to do may be all wrong, but it's all in the interest of science." Not looking up from her preoccupation with shriveled glans, she commanded, "Sit up on the examining table."
He hoisted backward and perched at the corner, looking down at the raven dark hair tumbling over the sleek slope of her shoulders.
"Isn't it amazing?" she murmured, seeming to ask it of herself. "All the blood pumps like crazy down into this little dead end street." She wiggled the rubbery cock. "And it grows and grows a mile long and stands straight up...."
Windham gawked at the exciting curve of her back and the wide flare of her hips, noticing that she was bent across the corner of the examining table at an angle that drove the curve into her crotch. It was that which sent the jolt of sensual madness into his still quiescent dick and stirred the puffy response. He gawked at the feminine fingertips playing along the limp flesh and saw the thickening start. Casually she straightened and strolled to the sink for the discarded test tube and he took it silently when she returned, hardly daring to hope that one so beautiful would find him interesting enough to masturbate personally.
Her face turned back toward his groin and, lips puckered, she bent forward to kiss the elongating organ. Windham was dumbstruck. Never in his life had a woman, not even his wife, ever touched him there with her lips.
Kitty pulled back silently, looked up the length of his body slowly, mischief dancing in her eyes. "I am probably saying good-bye to you and to Merriweather, Doctor Windham, but I will be going honestly. If I stay, to tell you the truth, I may have to do this and more with some of my clients who are reluctant with samplings. And I will not he and tell you I hate reluctant men. I love it when they're shy and I know what to do about it. Purely clinically, of course." She never smiled, obviously committed to go for broke. "First we have to get our organ properly readied for the secondary ejaculation. Only one way to do that."
Her finger slipped under the man's penis and he gaped at the bold way she let it bend over her forefinger. Lush ruby lips parted and she paused momentarily. "Informal sterilizing,'' she whispered. "I'm going to put him inside and see how long it takes before most of him comes bursting out."
Henderson Windham couldn't believe the sight. Her warm lips closed around his curled penis and he felt her tongue dart and weave boldly around the now totally engulfed cock. Hot saliva bathed it freely as she munched and chewed on the flaccid phallic tissue. Then the tingling began and her head ducked as she felt the puffing inside her oral port and knew his erection was seconds away.
"Dear God I" he panted. "Do turn your head, Miss Carr ... let me see!"
She tilted, and simultaneously felt the swelling torture going on in the cavity of the mouth. His cock, thought an overcome Windham, in the mouth of this creature! He saw it ripen and rise and then her head tilted again and obscured the point where her lips sealed against the base of his cock's attachment to his body.
"See ... I wanna see!" he gasped.
His head swam at the vision of loveliness crouching before him. Kitty turned her forehead upward and it was incredible. Inch by swelling inch the horny gristie ballooned and seemed to back from her luscious satiny lips-till six inches of rock-hard penis were exposed ... and the rest ... the rest was planted right in the middle of her sucking mouth. His body trembled in violent spasm and Kitty spewed the glistening prick from her lips and stared, worried.
"Are you all right, Doctor Windham?" Her hand dropped from the shaft and she drew back inches from the quivering hard-on.
His glance flew toward the door. "Must be mad!" he gasped. "That door could open any second."
The witch in nudie panties and bra saw genuine fear in his face and gambled she could make the fright work for her. It could. And there you are! Everyone in the hospital would know that Dr. Windham's big phallus was driving a female nutty down in the grad wing." Even as she taunted, she grabbed the sopping white cock and waved it defiantly. "Look how scared he is! You got a whole inch longer and bigger on the end just thinkin' you threw away your job letting me play with you."
Windham stared at the change in his organ. Just as the wild one had said-he was bigger than ever before in any other remembered arousal.
"I . . . dare . . . you. . . . Let me . . . suck . . . you ... off ... Doctor ..." The challenge came very slowly and Henderson was her captive. For a second, to give him a chance to flee, she diddled the swollen darkness of his cap across the satiny curve of her lower hp, then, impatient, she ovalled just enough to force the wide-rimmed corona into the warm and moist cave of her mouth.
Kitty's eyes were wide and filled with wonder as they fixed on his with unblinking intensity. They sparkled in sheer delight at the feeling the suck-off was giving her, and Windham wished he had a camera. His prick! Plunged squarely into the face of the prettiest female he ever could remember. Now her cheeks were expanding and contracting as she went to work m earnest on the fellatio, her green eyes darkening as she tasted, and never once leaving his face.
"Baby, yeah! Suck me, Kitty ... oh, suck me!" He saw her hips moving convulsively as she ground her crotch against the corner of the table to stimulate herself and he wondered almost hysterically if he should warn her that his climax was coming close.
Kitty had her warning. Frantic pulsations were trembling along the man's phallus and suddenly, savagely, a rain shower of semen charged into her mouth. She spewed the prick from her lips and grabbed his hand, holding the test tube to angle the glass to position.
"Ahhh ... ohhhh!" He was caught in the paralysis of orgasm and fought the frantic need to shove the prick back at her face, somehow letting her jerk him into the tube, pumping frenziedly to catch her specimen.
Windham knew he never would forget her final act Once she had the cc's she needed for the specimen, Kitty dove back to the distorted and swollen crown and munched for the last drops. Wild, wonderful sight to see her trying to finish herself against the corner of the table which he knew had to be far from a satisfying stimulation, while she siphoned furiously on his final discharge.
Abruptly it was over, and she stiffened as a quickly softening prick slipped from her pretty lips. Slowly she straightened and stood before him, studying the milky-gray substance he had ejaculated into the tube, apparently unable to meet his eyes.
Finally, with a sigh, she turned away and walked slowly to the container on the sink. "Well, that's that. I know I just zilched my chances at grad school but at least I'm going to leave an honest woman. Goodbye, Doctor."
His face was sober and his eyes calm when she finally looked up at him. "Do you know, Kitty, that is the most beautiful thing that has happened to me ever! And you want to know something? I've got lots of survival instinct, but there I went crazy with excitement, being afraid I'd get caught. Don't you dare talk of leaving! Just be sure you pick your experiment subjects carefully. And have Ben, the sexton, put a good lock on that door."
Kitty's eyes were moist when she reached for him and flung eager arms around his waist. "Doctor ... I ... Henderson .. . Hen . . . thanks ... oh, thank you!"
"Don't," he exclaimed impatient that he couldn't do what his need wanted to try to do. "I want a full report on my sixty-two-year-old sperm. Let me know if I can father a better world, and if not, let me know how I can get the most mileage out of the fun stuff in me." He chuckled. "Unless, that is, you want a regular volunteer for your program. That'll be the most damned fun I could think of."
"You're signed up right now." She dashed for the table and took the card she had prepared for her control group of male volunteers willing to give her regular sperm specimens.
He shook his head sadly, studying the frequency of visit asked for in the program. "I could contribute everyday, but I'd cause a crisis by my inordinate interest in a student as lovely as you. Let's just say I'll make periodic inspections, and you will be responsible to me on those inspections for a report of just how you are progressing with your fructolysis study."
"You're beautiful," murmured Kitty. "How can I thank you?"
"Pick someone better than an Arnold Graber next round," he grunted. "And by the way, pick a few very young men for this series of tests you'll be running.
There must be some you could get with safety. Perhaps some of the Princeton Tigers. They'll have lots to offer and most of them are gentlemen."
"I think that's a great suggestion," enthused Kitty. "I can work it out and if you have any names, let me know."
He stood. thoughtfully at the door, reluctant to leave. "You must be most careful. You're a lady, but many will be ready to brand you a tramp for caring about the sexual fulfillment of the male. I'm a man who has been touched by you, my dear Catherine, and I'll never be the same. But do go carefully, for all of us."
"Thank you, Hen." Only after the door closed did she look down at herself and realize she had never put herself together after the runaway experiment. What would he think later, she wondered, to have left his newest student standing by an examining table, a supposed professional nurse, her body on full display. He'd love it, she knew, and maybe ....
Feeling like a walking automaton, Dr. Henderson Windham never heard the greetings of students or faculty colleagues as he made his way back to his office. His thoughts full of this gorgeous creature newly arrived at Merriweather, totally uninhibited, he was scheming over the ways and means to come back to Room 5 in the Advanced Studies' wing for more and more of the same.
"Divine," he murmured half-aloud, as he fumbled his key ring to get into the sanctuary of his office and mull over what had just happened, feeling a tremor at the thought of the risk he'd taken. "What a way to go!"
For a long time after the door closed behind Windham, Kitty sat alone by her lab table staring at the glass test tube with the grayish liquid in the base. Scarcely more than a teaspoonful. She mused idly that what was the normal ejaculation of a man in his prime felt like a barrage spraying drop by drop.
A renegade droplet had dried on her lower hp and she collected it with her tongue, shivering to the tart-sweet flavor. She studied the wire rack that would contain more than forty such test tubes and wondered if she would be collecting all her specimens of man's sperm in such fashion. A needling guilt traced through her thoughts when she admitted to herself that she honestly hoped so.
Honesty time, she concluded, leaving the high stool and going to the walk-in closet beside the sink where Henderson had told her she'd find smocks and other garb for the lab. Quietly she slipped into the formless smock, started to button it, then caught her image in the mirror above the sink. It was devastatingly sexy to be clinically garbed on the outside while leaving a peek-a-boo show in the shadows behind the gown folds.
"Too sexy!" she breathed softly, wondering at the violent change in her perspective on sex in just the few weeks since returning to Princeton and the family. For a second she posed before the glass, examining the effect of smock closed and smock open. Then with a sigh, she opted to hook a large paper clip to the smock buttonhole to have an emergency restorer of modesty if someone strange walked into her lab.
The lab table was easy to roll to the position she wanted in the corner of the white tiled room best lit by a skylight. It also placed her before the full wall mirror that someone equipping the lab had thoughtfully installed for better light.
"Catherine Carr, you're a narcissistic witch!" she scolded herself aloud, assessing the torridly stacked near nudity under the blue shapelessness of the lab smock.
For nearly an hour after she had finished her experiment in the fructolysis count of Henderson Windham's sperm offering, she sat moodily silent, staring at the smear of semen on the glass slide under the microscope. Her thoughts were far from the scientific aspects of her graduate study. They were focused on what she had concluded about men and their sexual needs.
"I know," she exclaimed abruptly, straightening on the lab stool and staring in amazement at the mirror. "Why didn't I know it all the time?" She grabbed the fined pad on which she'd scribbled her chemical analysis of Dr. Henderson's ejaculation and looked at the last equation. "C6Hi20g equals . . . fructose. Hmmmhhh ... all in those cute little sperm cells. Male gametes. Now let's see ..."
She jotted S+A+C+K = Super Sex. "Hmmmm ... Sex plus Afraid plus Conscience plus Kindliness equals super sex! That's it!' she exclaimed to the empty room. "If a male has some guilty feelings, like Barry did about incest, or if he is afraid a little bit, like Henderson was, or if he's kinky some way like Arnold was, then that's going to make super orgasms. I'm right oh, I'm sure I'm right!"
Clutching her arms across her middle to contain the excitement, she stared at her formula for the most dynamic male climax. "What if you combined all three in one act," she said. "Have a male who has sin-guilty thoughts, is frightened and is maybe a little weird-kinky while he does it? Sex plus Afraid plus Conscience plus Kinky = Super Sex! WOW!"
She mulled over the possibilities of setting up tests of different parts of her formula SACK, as she decided to nickname it. What would she learn from using university guys in such a program? To a native of Princeton, the Tiger undergrads were accepted as wild men in the town. It would be hard to find types there who would be any more than just happy-go-lucky fun guys. That'd be nice, but not for her research.
Just then she remembered her promise to Dennis. A patient fourteen-year-old, he had obeyed parental instructions not to bug his big sister while she was getting settled at home. But at breakfast when she announced it was her starting day at Merriweather, that she would be likely to be getting a study cubicle for her graduate work, he was impossible to hold down.
"Gee, sis, you suppose I could see where you're going to be working soon's you get settled?"
"Aw, lay off her, Denny!" snapped Barry. "She's gonna be busy."
"Well now, maybe after awhile," suggested their mediating mother, and she winked at Kitty across the table. "You know, Denny plans to go into medicine some day."
"I'll call you soon's your school day is over, if I have anything to show you."
"Heck, they don't let babies in the hospital!" grunted Barry, who hated seeing any competition for her time.
"She was a candy-striper over there at my age,"' snapped Denny. "I'll betcha there's something I could do, too, if I wanted."
"Yeah, bedpans," chortled Barry, cracking his kid brother across the shoulder.
It would help her get her mind off what for the moment was at a standstill in her thinking, Kitty decided, walking to the wall phone.
"Hi!" Denny's eager voice answered the ring. "That you, Kitty?"
"It's me. Denny, would you really like to see what they've given me for a study lab down here?"
"Sure would! Can I come right now?"
"Right away. I'm in Lab 5 in the Graduate Study wing. Come in your old clothes. I can use a little cleanup help. No bedpans, I promise."
"Great! I'll bike it right down. Be there in ten."
When she returned to the gray tiled work counter, Kitty crouched over the microscope for a minute, then pushed the instrument to one side and buried her face in her hands. She couldn't shake the image of Denny hiding in the walk-in linen closet of the bathroom two days earlier. And now, deep in her heart as she anticipated the imminent arrival of her no longer "baby brother", she knew cleanup help was the least of her interests.
As she bathed, Dennis had cracked open the door of the bathroom linen closet, sure he was hidden in the shadows, but unaware of his sister's keen powers of observation. Luxuriating in the privacy that wasn't hers, Kitty was aware of the faint sound of shortened breathing in the dark room somewhere. A glance from the corner of her eye and she caught a glimpse of a gleaming white shaft-a mountainous erection. Her first thought, Barry, was dismissed quickly, for he was still at gym. Daddy? Never! It must be Denny. But with an organ like that... at fourteen?
It was no time to risk confrontation and she busied herself with her bath, stretching indolently to deliberately expose her breasts, proud and pointing above the bubbles of Estee Lauder Plus and Foam Erotic bath froth. Humming happily as she gave her sneaky voyeur an extra thrill, she finished her bath, then toweled leisurely, her naked back turned to the closet door. When she had finished and reached for her robe, she saw the door tight closed and knew she was again alone.
Ever since then she had studied her youngest brother quietly when he wasn't aware of it. He was different from Barry. Not the muscled athlete type with a handsome face and Adonis body, Dennis was a homely, tousle-headed adolescent, shy and slim, but very direct. His eyes were much like her own, large and dark and, like her, he had dark hair and dark eyebrows. It was the part of him yet unseen directly that intrigued her now as she thought of Barry's grudging compliment to his kid brother-that he was all stud and part ram. Questioned, Barry refused to go farther with the comment.
CHAPTER FOUR
"Hi!" Dennis burst through the door of Room 5 and strode excitedly toward the lab counter where his sister was again busy with her microscopic study.
"Hello." She snugged the smock together with the paper clip and turned to him, arms extended in welcome. "Come here."
When she had left home for nurse's training a few short years earlier, Dennis would have disdained the opened arms of a female. Now he strode confidently to his sister and gave her an exuberant hug.
"Oops, sorry!" he exclaimed when they broke and he saw his bear clasp had torn the clip holding her smock together. "Lemme find it." Face coloring, he dropped to his knees to search and she caught his arm and pulled him to his feet.
"Silly, you've seen me in practically nothing at all lots of times at home." She caught his "gawking at the goodies poorly hidden under the smock. "Let's show you my workshop."
After a thorough tour of the lab, including a bounce testing of her daybed and a try at the instrumentation for measuring and grading chemical components and a jump on and off the scales which told him he was too thin, Dennis spied the broom and pan.
"You go ahead and work, sis. I'll sweep the place up. Looks like no one has been janitoring the joint for a year."
"Thank you, Denny. You're a dear." She patted a Kleenex to her forehead. "No one has checked the air conditioning in here for longer than that, it feels like.
You mind if big sister works in her unmentionables? I've just got to finish my experiment before supper."
"Sure, go ahead." He hummed "The Stripper" as she peeled the smock, but his voice cracked when he saw the form he thought he knew so well. Housed in the transparent bra, her fantastic breasts were twin globes of luscious girl-meat to the fourteen-year-old. She angled toward him and he fought to catch air as he took in the sense-dazing sight of dark bull's-eyes, the centers of which jutted hard against see-through nylon. His glance, dropping, swept fabulous turned hips and the devastating prominence of her mound.
"I'll work on my slides for awhile then," she said quietly, not missing the urgency along his slacks leg as she settled onto her high stool.
He brushed ferociously at the floor and the action simply aggravated his problem and his self-consciousness when once he saw her look into the mirror, very directly and solemnly observing his fierce bulge.
"Want to see my study program?" she asked, nonchalantly beckoning him to her side.
"Yeah, hey what is that?" He stared through the microscope at the swimming forms in the blob on the slide glass. "About a thousand to one magnified, huh?"
"More than that. Do you know what it is?"
"Uh-unnnhh."
"Semen."
"Ahhh ... no kidding? That's ... wow ... why you studying that?"
Kitty looked thoughtfully into saucer-wide eyes. "It's to understand the male responses better. To understand all men better. See, no one has done much research on the male sexual responses and the Merriweather Hospital Graduate Committee has granted me a scholarship to do this."
"Wow! Far out!"
She arched worried eyebrows at him. "Except for one thing. You won't think me awful if I ask you to keep a secret between us?"
"No way you could ever be awful." His eyes pleaded to be trusted. "What's the secret?"
"I need a young male for the key control figure in my study and research and I don't know where to get one with no hang-ups and no wrong ideas."
"What kind of young male?"
"About your age."
"What's he got to do that would give him wrong ideas?"
There was an electric silence as Kitty let the tension build, swiveling slightly to partially face her brother. She could feel the same sex-dynamic vibrations pulsing from him as she felt each time she was near Barry. Her hand reached to his wrist, paused, then drifted slowly to his crotch and found the ridge pole that extended painfully swollen against the in-seam of his slacks.
'The wrong ideas could come from my doing to him and demanding of him to really let himself go. Of course, he would be paid for his work and he could think of it as being my employee."
"Paid?" It was a crack-voiced squawk that broke from Denny's astonished lips. Too passion-stung through all his fourteen-year-old frame to move when her hand touched the denim covering his erection, he simply stared. "Paid for what?"
"The grad school has a grant. Want me to show you where?" Her eyes, sympathetic with his panic and ready to understand if he should react negatively, looked quietly into his. Large and dark and totally innocent. "You don't have to do this, Denny." Low sultry invitation to leave.
"Oh gee, I think I want to. I do want to. Show me." He crossed his arms and stared down his front at the fingers fumbling with his slacks zipper. . "Our secret then," she murmured. "About everything we do here and about your being on the payroll."
"It's nobody's business but ours, right, sis?"
"Right." Her thumb and forefinger had the zipper lock and quickly she opened the fly, talking as she did. "You know, you don't seem like Denny to me anymore. You're more than six feet and you're much older looking. It should be Dennis."
"Guh .'.. golly, Kitty, that's ... gosh!"
Her fingers prowled through the fly and under the elastic edge of his jockeys, finding the stiffened column of his cock and forcing the painful hardness toward freedom.
"Dennis, that's not really you!" She released her light-fingered clasp of his erection the instant it sprang into view and he saw her hand dart to her mouth in unpretending surprise.
"I know," he admitted glumly. "I'm really disfigured. I get plenty of looks in the gym showers, so I know I'm kind of freakish looking."
"Whatever are you talking about?"
"Well, look at it." He glared at the horny hugeness bolting from the darkness of his fly. "I'm almost a foot long like this. Betcha Barry isn't even that gross!"
"Gross? Dennis, that is just about the most beautiful penis I have ever seen."
His eyes danced happily. "You're kidding, but thanks." He yanked his tee shirt over his head and reached for his belt. "You won't even admit you know me when you see what a skinny rail I am and how this thing of mine looks against my bare naked body."
"Show me." She pushed him toward the corner with the daybed. "I'm going to go lock the door and then I'm going to come see what a malformed brother looks like."
At the door she pretended to fumble with the lock, then called over her shoulder, "Ready."
"You'll be sorry," he warned.
Very slowly Kitty spun on a high pump heel and focused on the daybed. There, prone on his back, slender-bodied, with arms and legs akimbo, sandy-haired Denny watched intently for her first visible reaction. It was explosive admiration.
"You absolute doll!" she squealed, moving with deliberately suggestive sexiness across the room and standing directly at the side of the cot. "You are gorgeous, Dennis!"
He beamed. "Don't think I'm a ridiculous beanpole?"
"Anything but." She reached for the right words to put him totally at ease. "You're athletically slim and you remind me of those Olympic runners in the statues in Athens. You have what every man wishes he had in trimness of build and in . . . oh, goodness, Dennis, every male in the world would love to have all this." She sank to the edge of the cot and cupped under his loaded testicles, hefting upward to accent the massiveness of his equipment.
"Careful!" he exclaimed. "I ... I'm sure you're going to think this is spacin' out, but I ... I ..." He was panting. "I can wing it without even touchin' myself."
"Now you're kidding," Kitty accused, nevertheless releasing the well-swollen balls and gaping at the aroused youthful lust. The prick, with its frantically distended cap contorted like a swollen mushroom and dark red in color, was indeed a freakish asset on her brother's front. The testicles, nestling now like twin sacks of chamois loaded with precious diamonds, rested in the crease of his thighs.
"Sack!" she whispered aloud, staring at the balls. "That's it-S ... A ... C ... K!" . "So? I got two of 'em. Guys call 'em balls." Dennis . was obviously feeling much more at home with his sister.
"No, I was thinking of something else-it doesn't matter. But I don't believe you ... about the winging it without touching yourself. You mean you can actually ejaculate by spontaneous combustion?"
"Want proof?"
"I want proof," she agreed, going to the rack for a glass tube. "And when you wing it, as you call it, I want some of it in here."
His gaze had a kind of hypnotized disbelief as he took the tube in his hand; then he stared fixedly at her crotch.
"You've seen many girls almost naked, haven't you?" Kitty asked him.
"No, sir ... ma'am ... hot dawwhgg! Sis, you're somethin' else!"
His thin frame visibly tightened and she saw him arch against the first mattress, the middle of his body lifting from the cot as he gaped. "Gonna show you I don't he. Watch him ... now, watch him!"
His phallus, darkening still more with the pressure of the aroused blood trapped in its length by tightly squeezed groin muscles, was a formidable tower of bristling cockflesh. So brimming ripe to display its capacity, it quivered lonely and untouched in a trembling pendulum swing. Each arc of the stallion-like prick made the protruding veins and arteries that laced its length stand out even more prominently.
"You really can't mean it will reach climax without-"
"With ... out... nothin' ... seeee!" Palms pressing from under his slim buttocks, Dennis urged his body into a contorted arch the instant he felt the charging semen. Unnoticed, the test tube dropped to the mattress as he ogled his sister's body, enthralled. The ejaculation shot in sparkling arrogance from the stud-length, its first bolt leaping several feet from the penis and slashing across Kitty's shoulder.
Her dumbfounded disbelief was stung into action with the feel of the warm cum. "Test tube! Test tube!" she squealed, then, not seeing it, she dove for her brother's middle and, unwilling to let the gorgeous fountain of youthful sperm spray aimlessly, aimed it at her mouth.
Incredulous, Denny heaved to his elbows, watching in disbelief as his sister ovalled her lips wide to catch most of his discharge in her mouth. He humped against the mattress and let himself go in the most rapture-ridden crest he ever had reached.
She moved quickly from the cot the instant he finished and, panting, he gawked at her sleek ass as she grabbed for another test tube. Only then did he feel the tube he'd dropped that had slid under his body. Kitty let the mouthful of semen drool slowly into the glass, wishing she could swallow it and wondering why she had the strange ecstasy of nearly climaxing herself just at the feel of the spasm-driven penis in discharge. Was it the touch of his erectile tissue against her lips, she wondered, or the spray of his love of her mouth? She knew she was as much a different female as Dennis was a different male.
"That was really quite beautiful Dennis." She walked slowly back to the cot where he lay fondling his genitals unabashedly. "Do you do it a lot?"
He grinned. "S'what I mean about bein' a freak. I can make myself come least five times a day."
"How long have you been masturbating?"
The shrug was a kind of embarrassed cover-up. "Tell you the truth, I'm a kinda late starter from the way the other guys talk. I only began this year."
"And you haven't done it with a girl yet?"
"Honest, never. Most of my friends haven't either." He flushed. "I don't even know how to."
"Would you play with it more for me?" She looked him squarely in the eyes as she asked. "I mean for pay. You'd have to do it lots."
"Wow ... oh man, would I?" There was a creeping, snakelike elongation of the softened penis in instant response.
She toyed light fingertips through his pubic down. "I'm thinking about another idea for you but I want to see if you really can keep what goes on here secret Someday soon I may surprise you, but till then . . ." She rose slowly from the edge of the cot stretching to accent her fabulous contours, maddening Denny's cock to full hard. "Meanwhile, I want samples of as many jerk-offs as you can give me each day here. HI invent ways to maybe make it more interesting, but you masturbate over anything that excites you. If it's one you dig and you want to bang me with it or do funny things to me to turn yourself on, do it. You can't insult me. Just get some of your semen in a test tube each time and label it one or two or five or whichever time it is. Okay?"
"Honest? I get paid for that?" His eyes studied hers for a hint of mirth and, finding none, grinned when she nodded. He groped under his tail for the test tube and mumbled something about misplacing it first time. "Sit down and lean over me," he commanded, motioning to the edge of the cot.
She obeyed and he clasped a fistful of long dark hair. "It's beautiful. Know what I sometimes dream about doin'? I'd like to hold a handful of your hair around it while I frig it. Wow! I'd be careful not to hurt, okay?"
"I said anything goes and I meant it. It doesn't even matter if it hurts a little, just so long's I can see it happening." Kitty snatched the strands of her hair he held and swinging her head she swirled the long dark lengths across her shoulder, catching a handful at the end. "Gimmee!" she demanded possessively, reaching for his erection.
"Whatcha doin'?" cried Denny, delighted as she wrapped his prick in a tourniquet of brunette hair, snugly braiding it at the base of his erection.
"An experiment," she declared matter-of-factly. "Is it a nice feeling?"
"Blows my mind."
She looked soberly at the unhinged passion on the face of her brother wriggling on his back. "You know, back in the old torture chambers of castles?" Her fist tightened on the hair noose, tugging upward, and she noticed that his body followed.
"Yeah ... yeah, what about 'em?"
"I know you're big on history and probably read a lot about how they treated prisoners. Did you ever read about how they used pretty girls for very special prisoners they wanted to die happy?"
"Uh-unnnhh." His eyes fixed briefly on her lips to see if she was teasing, then, convinced, he looked back at her fingers braiding the dark tresses around the full circumference of the base of his tumult-driven penis. "So, c'mon ... tell me about the special prisoners."
"Don't want to frighten you, so stop me, if it's too awful. They all were shootin' their cum when they died."
"Oh ... jeez!" His prick went steel hard against the braided brunette and the vermilion of the cap darkened several shades as the tip ballooned visibly.
It was obviously a cum-on and Kitty saw the perfect way to produce some of Denny's most potent responses. A "late starter" he'd called himself, not yet able to control the persistent desire to play with himself and still not educated in the act of coitus, Dennis Carr was the perfect adolescent male. And as a bonus, he wore a cock fully as big as Barry's.
It meant that in Kitty's family there were two stallions whose main thoughts every day were centered on her. What it would be, she thought, to be able to teach this tower of erected flesh how to copulate! What it would be to maybe even sometime have both Barry and Denny on the same day stuffing their impossible erections deep into her vagina.
The sudden flash of guilt attacked the lust. Coitus with Barry was in the family and it was his idea not hers, she reminded herself. Even if she was doing it happily with Barry now, she herself couldn't dare involve Denny in going as far as incest. Never!
"Tell me ... come on ..." Denny pleaded, breaking her thoughts and dragging her from the future to the present. "What'd the girls do with their prisoners?"
Carefully, Kitty completely braided the locks of her hair in miniature noose fashion around the bonelike shaft. To Denny it was a delightful trap, till she straightened suddenly, dragging against his thoroughly bound prick and forcing him to a fast reflex arching.
"They did that!" she snapped and her expression was unsmiling. "Enemy males were turned over to the young girls and, in sending them to their happy hunting grounds or wherever enemy soldiers went, they did this with their hair and this with their mouths." She bent across his rigidly prostrated nakedness and engulfed the fat crown in her lips.
"Eeeyowww!" He trembled violently as she spewed the saliva-soaked organ into view. "That's wild. Like kissin', only lots more."
She raised her head and looked at him, wondering if by any chance her youngest brother was putting her on. "There is lots more," she said. "Back in castle torture chambers the execution girls were each given a prisoner. They could keep him alive an hour, or a day, but never more than a week. Their prisoner wasn't tied, just like you're not tied, except for this long braid of my hair around your ... your big hard penis. Didn't have to because all the prison guards were watching the fun. Only difference between you and those prisoners is your cock was hard when I braided the noose."
"What'd they do?" begged Dennis, visualizing himself in an ancient gray stone-walled dungeon with his gorgeous captor about to do something wonderfully-terribly final to him.
"Well ... what they did was to use their hair noose to make their penises bigger and bigger by tightening the noose on the base of the prick, suckin' them and liftin' them higher and still higher off their cots till it looked like their organs were going to fly right off their fronts."
"No kidding?"
"I'm not kidding. Here's how ..." She seized the braid of her hair close to where it wrapped round his prick and simultaneously spread her lush lips over the broad crimson glans, wringing a cry of delight from her brother as she closed her mouth with viselike determination around the protruding prick ledge.
The delight was mingled with fear a second later when her lips began siphoning and her hand tugged farther upward. Wild tremors rifled Denny's body as he felt vulnerability and lust at the same time. The feverish oral trap that had taken his cock-crown from sight had to be the most beautiful sex sensation he'd known in his inexperience, and the danger had to be the most real a deep animal instinct had ever warned him to run from.
"Oh, God ... Kitty! That's fantastic. What's happening?" His eyes wide and dilated with panic and passion, he stared at his organ buried in her mouth.
She released the tight grip on the braided hair and he sank to the mattress with a groan and moaned protest when she spewed his sopping erection from her mouth.
"What's happening, brother mine, is fellatio. It's what you'll probably like second-best to something else all your life. It's what the prisoners got for one day or one week with the hanging treatment till they had grown at least an inch from bein' dragged upward while they were being sucked. Then when it was longer and hungrier than ever, just when the enemy was shooting his love into the execution girl's mouth, she'd rip hard on the braid, or sometimes just use her clenched fist and tear it right off his front."
"Holy keesmash!" Denny's eyes registered pure horror at such a fate. "That's wild!" , "You'd never get by one suck, sir," Kitty announced as she studied a frenzied new burgeoning of shaft and cap. "You've already grown at least an inch."
His lower hp trembled from the conflict of fear and desire and she leaned to her target. "Thought this big prick could shoot without even being touched," she taunted. "It can't shoot even being woman-loved."
"Scared outta my skull," admitted Dennis.
"You should be. This could be your last shoot in all your life if you were in that prison dungeon. And you can't do anything to stop me."
Youthful imagination and frantic passion for her mouth on his organ overwhelmed any coherent words. He watched, electrified, as Kitty ovalled to his ballooning prick-tip even as she dragged on the braid again. He never noticed her free hand groping for the test tube under the cot.
Her siphoning was slow and demanding now and her tongue devilled in and around the hyper-sensitized ledge of the crown, bathing the tortured knob in a whirlpool of warm saliva as she milked mercilessly.
"Oh ... ahhh ... I'm gonna... yeah ... YEAH!"
Kitty took the barrage of young cum against the roof of her mouth and, at the height of his ejaculation, jerked the braid, snaring the base of his cock and ripping the prick from her lips. A gray-white stream looped into the air and she caught it artfully in the test tube, then, even as his cry of dismay stormed at her, she trapped the penis in her lips again, milking it through the rest of his climax.
"Sis ... oh, Kitty, that was too much ... gee, thank you, thank you."
She let the barely softened phallus slide from her oral trap, and felt the maddening need deep in her vagina begin to climb in that familiar way. It was barely a breath away from the moment of truth, Kitty knew, when, without any visible stimulation, she would do just as Denny had first done. Climax without anything but the fierce seduction of her senses and without any normal route to orgasm bringing her on.
"It couldn't have been that good for you," she whispered, tugging suggestively at die braid of hair still gripping the thickened horny shaft. "You didn't go down much."
"Do me again ... oh ... please, Kitty. Your mouth is so beautiful on him."
"Aren't you afraid?" she devilled. "This time might be the time I jerk the noose and send you to your reward without any plaything."
"I am afraid." His eyes fixed hers as he spoke. "I know you probably are makin' it up, but you could even be telling the truth and you might slip while I'm shooting and I'd be wiped out. Gosh, it's scary, but ... but do me again."
Kitty did. With eyes closed against the enflaming sight of her brother's face as the passion built, she munched and siphoned the phallus, drawing upward on the cock noose as she milked, and feeling his slim body arch more and more deeply in answer to the erotic pain of the pulling. Again, unnoticed, she slipped a test tube from the rack under the cot.
When his climax took him she was steeled against letting herself go, she thought, but suddenly, without warning, the spasms rolled in to claim her. Violent convulsions from a possessed and very empty vagina racked through her hips and -middle and sent uncontrollable shudders through her shoulders. She clung fiercely to the little glass in her hand and let the happy delirium of the spontaneous combustion wash through her.
"What happened?"
She shrugged and slid from the edge of the cot "Just say it's your sister acting the way the Carrs do. I had an orgasm."
"Wow! Girls get a lot more violent than guys, don't they?"
That remark broke the tension built up in Kitty around the desire for total lovemaking then and there. With a squeal of joy, she threw her arms around her brother and kissed him happily on the lips.
"Kitty, I can taste it. Did you swallow me after I shot?" His look was pure awe, "It was my Denny milkshake." She crinkled a disdainful nose at him, undoing her hair braid from his cock. "After all, it was mine to do with as I pleased, once you gave it away, right?"
"Yeah ... gee, you're something else!"
"So are you." She was on her knees beside the cot, lifting the two test tubes from the little wire rack and waggling them before him. "Men are supposed to squirt maybe a teaspoonful each orgasm and look at this."
"What about it?"
"It's about three tablespoonfuls each time." She pushed to her feet and hurried to the lab table to prepare three new test slides while her brother lay worshipfully watching the voluptuous near-nude poised at the edge of the stool, bent to the microscope. Dark hair tumbled loosely, obscuring her profile, but at the moment he wasn't interested in her face. Kitty's body had a peculiar light to it, a kind of a radiance to the ivory perfect flesh. The sleek contours of breasts and arms and thighs, the smooth plateau of her tummy, and the tantalizing shadow of her pubic hair concealing the mystery at her crotch all seemed accented by the glow he could see clearly. He wondered if all females shone like this when they were sexually excited.
That she was excited even while preoccupied with her slides was clear. He knew that much about girls, he thought quietly, studying the pointing cones of her nipples that appeared to stand in a sort of pink translucent readiness even as she worked.
Quietly, he slipped from the cot and moved noiselessly across the tile to stand behind her. She was concentrating on the glass, muttering something to herself and unaware that he was inches from nudging her spine with his newly refreshed hard-on.
"Fascinating," she murmured aloud suddenly, not looking up. "Your first ejaculation wasn't the highest motility of sperm; your second and third are much different. When you were scared a little and still had to do it."
"Go for four?" he whispered, leaning to peer over her shoulder.
"Go for four," she answered, not looking up and fighting for self-control at the feel of his knobby hugeness urgent against the thin nylon panties covering her buttocks. "Denny ..."
"I want to see," he interrupted, hands on her hips and pushing her to one side to take her place on the stool.
"Look. Here's the first." She shoved the slide onto the track and pointed out the mystery elements swimming so actively. "Enough to father a whole city in one discharge, if we knew how to save it all."
Her hand reached over his thigh as he crouched across the scope to look at the second exhibit. "I wonder if it could."
"What? Come again? Dunno. I've done it five times in one day, but never more'n two or three at one time."
"It'd take a super build-up, right?" She squeezed the jutting flesh and tugged to pull him from his preoccupation with the microscope. "It's time for the next stage, Dennis Carr."
As they walked across the room she fingered her bra snaps, and the cover literally sprang from her chest from the pressure of the liberated breasts. "You're going to get a special lesson in a woman's body," she said softly. "Would you like that?"
"Would I!" He dropped to the cot and flagged his cock bawdily at her as she stepped from her panties.
"Ladies first!" She caught his wrist and dragged him unceremoniously from the narrow cot, sending him sprawling on his back. She stepped across him haughtily with pretended contempt, then, standing astride his slim frame, she kicked at his erection with her bare foot.
Dennis could have cared less. He was being treated to a tantalizingly provocative display of a wonder-world he had yet to explore. The woman's center of sex play. Gaping up Kitty's sleekly tapered legs, he gawked at the meeting place of her gorgeous thighs. A dark cleft split the base of her prominent vee mound and he wanted to grab for the mystery.
Sensing his impatience, Kitty tumbled to her back on the cot as Denny scrambled back over the side. "Why don't you go discovering?" she urged, excitement tingling at every erogenous point as she felt his needy phallus.
"You're gonna think I'm silly, but can I do something?" '
"Sure, Denny . . . anything." She caught her breath and started to correct the invitation to "almost anything," then realized that was hardly necessary. Her baby brother, for all his overdeveloped equipment, knew nothing about intercourse and for her everything else with Dennis was permissible. "What do you want to do?"
"I want to study you real close. I mean, well, you know where."
The tremor traveled like a wriggling bolt of summer heat lightning. "Do whatever you want," she encouraged, in a voice low and sultry. "Why not start here?" She arched her shoulders against the mattress to thrust ripe, full breasts, hard-nippled with want for special attention. "Kiss me, Denny ... please!"
His lips, warm and moist, lingered on hers and she drove her tongue against his teeth, felt them spread and make room for the spearing dart to stab suggestively into his oral port.
"That's wild!" His cock, hot and urgent, was grinding against her calf as he took his turn at tongue-dueling.
Hard to believe he was only fourteen when his lips left hers and traveled downward, brushing warm lasses along the taper of her throat, across her shoulder and then diagonally to the waiting cherry at the center of the milk-white globe. When his mouth formed a tight oval at the nipple, a low moan burst uncontrollably from Kitty's lips.
"That is so nice!" She fought back tears of happiness mingling with lust for more, and then the lust was building in spite of her fright. "Denny," she panted as the nipple-love moved to the other breast and his hands became simultaneously involved in a light massage of the boobs.
"Denny, you aren't the only one with spontaneous combustion," she warned. "Curl your body so I can play with you while you do that ..." She stretched her arm as far as it could reach and couldn't quite touch the eager hardness grinding hotly against her knee.
"No way!" he whispered, and now he sounded less like an adolescent. "We haven't got any test tubes here and you know what you said ... get it in a glass."
She writhed under his mock accusation and felt her self-control slipping quickly as he continued to love her breasts. Erotic electricity darted to every corner of her body with each tongue-strumming of a nipple, and her hand crept across the trembling flat of her belly.
"What's that?" gasped Denny, twisting from his play with her boobs to stare at the palm cupped across her mons. "What are you doing?"
"Girls like to do it, too." She closed her thighs over the in-driven fingers, self-conscious at his stare at her masturbation. "Stop looking!"
"You wanted to look at me." He propped to an elbow and all she could see was the rumpled hair and the slender shoulder blades as he craned to watch her self-play. "It's beautiful . . . your fingers are way up inside your... your ... wow!"
Her body seethed in savage climax convulsions, hips writhing so feverishly that he was humped from his elbow and lay sprawled across her midriff as the wonder of her climax held him transfixed.
"Gee, you really blow your cool when you come, don't you?" he demanded, still lying across her middle and watching the curious spasms of after-orgasm travel lightly over the taut flesh of her tummy.
"It's the way every woman is," murmured Kitty, feeling the new lure of his eyes studying every muscle contraction and wanting him to study more. "You can look closer if you want."
"Gee ... thanks!" He wriggled across her legs and when urgent fingers pried at her thighs she let him spread them wide enough to permit his kneeling in between. The certainty that he was still erect had no place in her thoughts as he bent very close to stare at the pulsing pudendum and to finger tenderly at the folds of her cunty gates. It was a curiosity that shouldn't be suppressed, she reassured herself, remembering her own curiosity in graduate study was little more than an advanced state of the same interest.
"Can I put my finger through?" he whispered hoarsely.
"Gently." She urged upward slightly from the mattress to make it easy. "See the tinier folds of flesh just under the bigger slit? That's a woman's labia majora and labia minora ... and ..."
"Yeah ... yeah, I get it ... bigger opening and smaller opening, huh?" '
"Well, kind of." Her laugh was brittle with tension as his fingertip at that instant brushed her clitoris tip. "That! Right there ... know what that is?"
"Golly ... no."
"That's where most scientists believe a woman's most intense passion-feelings are centered. They say the clitoris is where the most satisfaction in orgasm is developed and even when she feels it to her tippy-toes, the clitoris is where it really peaks."
"This is the clitoris?"
"OOoohhh ... yes! Be careful!"
"But I thought a man was supposed to go way down a hole and all the girl did was take it and like it."
"That's ancient." Her eyes sparkled with the eagerness to clear a myth from her brother's mind. "There is a kind of "hole,' as you call it, but... here! You can touch." She caught the base of his hand and guided him away from the clit to the threshold to her vagina. "Just push one finger along into that place you can't see ... what do you feel?"
"It's warm and kinda wet-like and wow! It sorta grabs my finger." He kneed his way deeper into the valley of her legs, but she never noticed, as the fight against a surge of climax became almost overwhelming. "Thought you said the clitoris was where the feeling was." He gawked at the glazed stare fixed on her face.
"It ... really is ... it ... there's little sensory nerve endings in the vagina, too ... but the clit ... the clit ... Denneee! I'm going to have to come!" Her lower body was in wriggling surrender to the passion claiming every pore and nerve of her body from his finger stimulation. Eyes closed against the paroxysm of her orgasm, she didn't notice the change in her brother's body angle to hers.
At the first grab of her cunty walls against his deeply buried forefinger, Dennis had completed his sex education. He knew. Beyond a shadow of doubt, he knew that that was why cock had been put on a man. To go into this part of maddening woman-flesh. It was a savage, wonderful end to guess-work which shy Dennis never had dared ask either Barry or his father to tell him about. Now he knew, and as he deliberately simulated a tiny cock with his finger and listened to his sister's come cries, he knew he was ready.
Her eyes squeezed shut, her lips parted and her head thrown far back over the edge of the daybed, "Kitty was out of this world in a private joy orbit brought on by his finger strumming. He angled stiffly and awkwardly and gaped at the daring which aligned his rigid penis directly toward the quivering pussy slit. Pink and lovely, it was an open gate to cock-heaven! With a gasp he thrust forward at the instant he withdrew his finger and the conical tip of his prick disappeared like magic through welcoming cunty lips.
"Oh ... oh ... OH! Denn ... Dennis, you're fucking mel Oh, please ... don't!" She made an effort that was little more than a token resistance.
The arrogant cock stuffed urgently through the yielding folds of her passion flesh and the climax that had been rolling freely to his finger stimulation was now a cresting thunderous claim on every point of her ready body. His cry ricocheted from the walls of the room and his ejaculation battered angrily into the . waiting trap of her unfilled cunt. The climax had come too fast! The monstrous cock was only halfway into the convulsing vagina before her spasms against the in-driving hard-on had forced it to orgasm.
"Damn!" moaned Dennis, wrapping her tightly with his arms, lest she try to escape, then feeling her legs scissor snugly at his waist to let him have the message of her rapture. "Gosh, Kitty, I couldn't help myself. I just had to do it to you."
"We both had to," she murmured, nuzzling into the warmth under his chin and feeling the steel of his phallus softening. "Anyway, it's your way to learn and now I've taught you something, maybe." Somehow it made it feel all much more academic and almost as if it was right for it to have happened right in Merriweather Hospital's grad school quarters. Write it off to research, she tried to rationalize ... forget that she had led another brother to demand incest
"I didn't learn much," he mourned. " 'Cept how super it feels to be inside you and to feel you coming crazy like that. I should of made it go lots longer."
"We'll just call you 'preemie,' like they do in hospital nursery," giggled Kitty, wishing the slightly collapsed cock was roaring Hard and driving crazy wild into her ready quim again.
"What's preemie? You mean like premature?"
"What's premature for one man may be fine for another and we both loved it, right?"
"Still came too fast and, my gosh, after three other times. I'm really a freak!"
"Oh, brother-dear, you are a freak-a lovely, oversexed, sweet freak and don't you ever dare change." She squirmed under his body. "But we better break this up. Some people don't approve of it"
"Hah! I know that much anyhow. I read about all of it in Spanish history and in some older stuff, too. This is incest when it's doin' between two in the same family, isn't it? That's why old Miss Eldwood blushed when I asked her what that word meant."
"That's what it means. Lots of people who don't think they're ancients would really condemn us for being like this. And if we were doing it to have children, I'd condemn it myself."
"But we're not, right?" His eyes were wide with sudden uncertainty. "Gee, how do you tell?"
"You wear protection. I'll tell you how later. Anyway, I always have protection and I'll tell you about that sometime, if you want to know."
"Yeah ... I want to know everything." His eager young body was stiff and now it began to relax and mold against her succulent contours. "I can feel your nipples in my chest and it just feels like we're one body, not two."
"We really are one body, Denny. And we're getting more one all the time. I do not believe you! You're getting hard and huge inside me all over again."
"This time we take lotsa time ... oh, damn!" He ripped himself violently from her arms and left the cot on a dash to the lab counter for a test tube. "Remember ... gosh, my boss is forgetting!" His eyes danced. This time when I shoot I'm gonna get some of it into this."
That I've got to see." Kitty squirmed under his return, her appetite out of control at the sight of her naked brother's slim frame darting back from the lab counter, boasting a top-heavy prick, its bone-white barrel glistening with their mingled cum excitement.
"Gotta keep your legs apart, so's I can get free," he demanded when her thighs crept round his waist to seal his cock in her need-filled passion-sheath.
He ground slowly into the welcoming vagina, stuffing every quivering inch of his erection from sight and steeling himself against too quick a finish when the urge to pump frantically swept over him. This time he wanted to savor every woman wonder, to build both of them slowly and to become fully male and far more than a hand-led adolescent
"Denny, I don't think I can wait much longer." Her plea was music to his ears. It was declaration of his success as conqueror and lover and hungered-after male. "Please, Dennis, it's too beautiful ... I'm going ... I'm going to cuh... come!"
"Hang on. You're actin' like a preemie!" he taunted, letting the thrill of victory sweep through him and finding it something he could do if he braced muscles in his groin which he didn't even know about against the sweep of demand that he climax.
She was locked in end-over-end orgasm and he savored the full emotion that took her, letting the little screams she couldn't repress accent her seething surrender to his deeply buried prick. Abruptly the game was reversed and Denny's controls were blown to the commandeering of her vaginal muscles, clutching and snapping against his hardened tissue.
"Gotta, Kitty... I got to... to ... ahhh!"
He wrenched violently against her attempt to wrap him with those gorgeous legs and the effort reminded him of the test tube still clutched in his hand. With a grunting incoherent babbling he dragged his sopping cock from her frantic passion-maddened vagina and aimed the discharging organ at the test tube. One bolt missed, the next splashed squarely into the glass and he gave a hysterical cry of male-in-extremity as her fingers found and dragged his organ back to her demon-driven pussy-cleft
Their bodies cemented together in a mania of interrupted coitus begun-again and, as she took the full final blasts of his ejaculation, Kitty locked arms and legs around his body to claim every drop of his discharge.
In the room adjoining, Henderson Windham, M.D., stared through the see-through mirror from the concealment of the secret observation room he had put there when Room 5 was used in psychiatric programming at the grad school. He gaped at the unhinged passion on the daybed, possessed with a need to respond to the sight but driven by an all-consuming jealousy of Kitty's play partner.
"He's no more than a boy!" gasped Henderson, when the tousled head of Kitty's playmate lifted from its burrowing. "My God, it's her own brother!"
Dennis Carr had been frequently around the hospital corridors long before he had reached the admissible age for minors and more than once Windham had seen a nurse or attendant usher the eager youngster from the hospital corridors when he'd been too pushy in asking to be allowed to help around the place. "Lord, the size of him!"
The pendulous prick, its iron gone but its dimensions still impressive, slid wet and satisfied from Kitty's cunt. "Thanks ... gosh, thanks," muttered Dennis. "Here... here's your specimen."
He seemed suddenly self-conscious and, when there was no response from his sister, he slumped over the edge of the daybed and sat disconsolate beside her, feeling the cool linoleum against his tail in sharp contrast to the heat he had just known in their embrace.
"I'm terrible," murmured Kitty. That could be habit-forming and it's only for education. You understood that, didn't you?"
The listening Henderson felt his heart pound furiously against his chest and what he had braced himself against doing when he first slipped into the hidden room to spy, now commandeered all common sense. He pounded his erection mercilessly as he stared at the nudity spread on the cot; all the female wealth in the world seemed housed in that wanton voluptuous body. Thoughts of her incest with her brother were a million miles from Henderson's longing to be where Dennis had just vacated. He gaped at the sight Kitty had the leg farthest from his viewing bent and the other outstretched, offering a full view of her still parted quim lips.
"Little bastard bruised her!" muttered Hen, gawking at the puffy slit and noting the reddened pussy tissue. The cunt lips were puckered in a delightfully inflaming invitation to mayhem and the long-denied Henderson Windham wanted to burst through the separating glass to get at the girl. If she had to turn to her baby brother for sexual satisfaction, she was as frustrated as he, even if in a different way. He had sensed it when she posed for his effort to give her a sampling of his masturbated best, and he'd known it by the convulsive grinding of her hips against the examining table when he was coming into her lips. That she would go all the way hadn't occurred to him seriously. And now it had been demonstrated. By her own brother.
"Baby doll, you're going to meet a man-damned soon!" gagged Henderson seconds later when his orgasm had passed. "Son of a bitch! I'm worse than the kid!"
His eyes caught the line-up of test tubes on Kitty's counter rack. He moved behind the wall mirror, confident that he was invisible from the lab side and grateful for her rearranging the lab furniture to place her work counter so close to the see-through glass. He could enjoy the total room from his hiding place, and when she was at the examining table or the work counter staring into her microscope, he was less than two feet away.
"Number one specimen. Hummmhh, that's me," he speculated aloud, knowing that, while he could hear from the lab, they could not hear him. "She was studying my semen when the boy showed. God, four test tubes. The little bastard fired four times for her and I'm the dull shit who told her to get a young man in for her study. She's gotta be hooked!"
"Hooked" was a fairly accurate word for the feeling riddling every sensitized nerve of Kitty's body as she dragged the formless lab smock over her nakedness. Her thoughts tumbled from Dennis to Barry and back again. All unexpected, she insisted to herself, was the copulation with Denny. She had no deceit inside about the hand-play, and the oral play was understandable. But not the fornication. It had simply come and again it was Denny who, for all his innocence, had started it. How beautiful and how wrong, her emotions screamed. Yet quietly, overriding the sense of guilt, there was a new intense curiosity inside her discontented body. For no understandable reason, the image of her father, Stewart Carr, was vivid before her eyes as she settled down on the lab stool. Stewart Carr, the only male in her immediate family she hadn't been intimate with. The one man in her life she had always wanted to lock into her bed.
"Anything I can do, sis?" inquired the fully dressed Dennis, standing at her elbow.
"Just one thing. No bad feelings. Nothing but happy feelings, right?" She smiled into his eyes. "You've made your sister a very happy woman, and if you want to quit working for her down here, you do it."
"You kidding?" He grabbed the broom. "I haven't done a lick of work and you're firing me."
The listening Henderson Windham began to add it all up. She had brought her kid brother onto the scene to be the youthful experiment Windham himself had recommended. To cover it at home she was making him her clean-up odd-job boy. Clever.
"Denny, you're amazing!" Kitty looked up from her scrutiny of the slide specimen of his final ejaculation. "You wouldn't believe it, but there's so much motility in your last discharge you can hardly tell it from the others. It's down a little, but not much."
"Horny little shit!" grunted Henderson enviously, as he turned away from the sight of the intriguing grad student, vainly trying to conceal her sensual impact by fastening her smock closed with the ridiculous giant clip. He had a board of directors' meeting in five minutes and only that could tear him from remaining at his voyeur post for the afternoon.
Scheming about ways to get back to Room 5 by the next day, Hen Windham hummed quietly to himself as he headed for the board room. In spite of her loose morality, he had the strange feeling she could possess any man she wanted at the snap of her fingers. Inside, he knew she had already possessed nearly every waking thought one Director of Grad Studies was to have for a long time to come.
CHAPTER FIVE
Dixie Carr heard the light tap at her bedroom door and called, "Come in."
"Hi, Mommy. You busy?"
"Kitty! How nice. With the men out for a change, I'm the un-busiest I've been in weeks. Wasn't Barry awful at supper?"
"Nerves, I guess. This is the elimination meet for who gets to try out for state championship in Class C weight lifting."
Dixie appraised her welcome arrival interestedly. For the weeks that she spent at home and during the time when she began graduate work, she had hoped her daughter would come for a girl-visit. There was no use in hurrying her; the two of them were as different as day and night-her platinum silver and Kitty's near black hair was only the beginning of the difference. One thing was fierce between them and that was a tender love seldom spoken of in Kitty's twenty-two years, but quietly acknowledged.
In moments the two were engrossed in a long delayed conversation about the intimacies of the nightmare of Kitty's two years with Arnold. When her mother broke down in tears with the recounting of the wedding night orgy, Kitty herself dissolved, and for the first time since she walked away from the kinky pathologist, let herself go. For long, wonderful reuniting moments the two women clung to each other, letting the tears flow and giving vent to the intensity of their feeling for each other. When Kitty pushed from their embrace and started to leave the bed, Dixil caught the sleeve of her daughters peignoir and begged her not to go.
"Oh, dear ... I'm sorry!" The yellow satin gown pulled open as the sash cord gave, and before Kitty could catch it the robe spilled from her shoulder. "How lovely you are!" exclaimed an admiring Dixil. "Don't leave ... we needn't talk about Arnold any more, if you don't want to. It's just so good to have you home."
Kitty smiled. "You don't know how good it is to be home and not have to be putting on a show for a man who doesn't love you. I get wild inside feelings since I've come back to all this love in my family and realize I left it to be with that creep. I don't even feel like I have to hide my body around you and when the boys see me runnin' around in my scanties, they whistle, but it's a nice whistle."
Dixil reached to cup an arm across the naked shoulder, tracing a lock of hair, then sensuously walking her fingers up her daughter's back; "You know, when you were talking about those two girls . . . who were they ...? Angela and ... Paula ... I got all goose bumps listening, even if they were part of an awful wedding night. But they weren't awful to you themselves, were they?"
"They were really pretty sweet. In fact, I found that I like a woman to touch me and I don't even feel strange in admitting that it bothers me."
Dixil pulled her hand away from its gentie caress of Kitty's shoulders. "It's so different, your generation and mine. You're so honest about things that we . . . well, we weren't always honest about."
"Such as?"
"This." Dixil's hand drifted to the button securing her peignoir and the translucent shortie gown drifted open, exposing her front to Kitty's wide-eyed surprise. "I really think it's the first time except around your Dad that I've ever been seen like this. It feels strange."
"What a waste!" exclaimed Kitty. "Everyone should see how a woman can stay ravishing after forty."
"Shhh ... I'm staying thirty-five. Daddy hates it, because he's forty-five." Dixil wilted back against the pillow and watched Kitty's curious study of her torso. "I'm getting soft." , "Oh, I wish I could get soft like that! I'm big upstairs and I'm weird downstairs."
"Whatever do you mean? You come by your breasts naturally, but what do you mean weird downstairs?" The intimacy of their conversation was clearly stimulating to Dixil and she wondered if the goose bumps on her arms showed as much as the tumid stiffness of her nipples. Oddly she still felt perfectly comfortable with Kitty's staring at her lower body. She was proud of her care for herself and enjoyed the curious twitching that plagued her cunty lips as her daughter looked at her most intimate part.
"You'n Daddy have been together thousands of times, I bet," envied Kitty out loud. "Do you keep count how often you do it?"
Dixil squirmed leisurely on the satin sheet. "I just count when we don't do it. Your Dad is a very highly sexed man and that's the kind we have got to find for you next time."
"Hummpphh! I'm going to be an old maid by choice, after Arnold. The only men I get any vibrations to are around this house and that's illegal."
Dixil studied her daughter thoughtfully, saw the trickle emerge at the corner of her eye and slide down her cheek, and reached impulsively to hug Kitty close. There was a clear sensual electricity exchanged at the pressure of their breasts, but this time Dixil made no move to break the contact. She tilted Kitty's face toward hers and leaned to kiss her tenderly on the forehead.
"If I understood you, and I did, then I think you have every right to feel the vibrations you do and let them feel good. Is it Daddy ... or Barry ..
Kitty trembled slightly in the cuddly arms and wormed closer to Dixil's body, remembering the fun of the play in that almost forgotten wedding chalet when Paula and Angela led her in to her first lesbian embraces. "It's all of them, Mommy. I look at the boys and I look at Daddy and I feel excited and I get damp even sometimes wishin'..."
"Darling, don't let it frighten you! You ought to let yourself go. Here's a switch from the older generation. I'd love to see you and Daddy get lots closer and I mean that. He'd be so good for you to ... well, how do I not get misunderstood . .. ? it would be just nice to see you get off together, or the three of us cozy up watching TV some night ... and the same for the boys. Darling, you've earned some sweet affection after the beast. Tell me about him some more, can you? Didn't he ever make any normal love to you? You know, just straight copu ... well, I mean, didn't you ever just fuck?"
It was a new word on Dixil's lips that Kitty had never heard there before and it seemed a symbol for the new Mommy she never had known.
"Never once in just man to woman, one-to-one love. It always had to have someone else involved, or it had to be someone else doing it to me while he got his fun with his hand ... or"... or ..." The tears were welling again. "Would you believe, he was the greatest with other girls, but he made me feel like half a woman!"
A long wrenching sob grabbed deep in Dixil's throat at the agony of her daughter and she clung tightly to the shaking shoulders, wishing she could kill Arnold Graber for his offense to Kitty. She remembered the years of wild hetero love night after night with Stewart. The way he was lately abruptly stabbed into her thoughts. Her husband had lost the urgency, and no one had to tell Dixil how that would have felt if he had been like Arnold early in their marriage.
Now she could stand the lapses of interest and blame it on the business problems or on maybe his own aging, but how it must have been for Kitty for those two unholy years! Maybe, just maybe Stewart and Barry and even Dennis could awaken normal passions in Kitty again. Maybe...
A sizzling excitement traveled through Dixil's frame at that instant as Kitty's hand drifted low across her back and caressed lightly over the curve of her tail.
"You have a divine figure, Mommy, and you .know it, too." The hand crept along the crease in her buttocks, then slid over the rounding of her hip and Dixil knew the crunch of desire. Woman-for-woman desire.
Not since that time at college, there in that dorm with her heartbroken roommate, had Dixil Carr yielded to the provocation of another female's body. At college, even as now in her bedroom, another girl was in the depths of despair and reaching for comfort. Dixil had offered it and the comfort had turned to mutual seduction. -
At twenty Dixie had been the prisoner of lesbian passion for eight unforgettable hours. At forty-two she was not about to repeat that surrender that had given her so many restless nights remembering.
"I adore your bod," whispered the voice half-buried in the curve of her breast. "I've always loved the way you sort of exude a 'take me, take me' air, Mommy. Did you know when I stopped thinking of you as really my mother?" Kitty hurried on, lest she be stopped. "When I saw the way you just paralyzed all the men at my nursing graduation ball."
"You're teasing!"
"No, I'm not. You wore that sleek, wet-look floor-length dress and it was as platinum as your hair. And you wore nothing under but a soft bra and everything from your super boobs with your ten-penny nail nipples standin' out at the middle and your gorgeous vee that showed how much you loved to play down there and oh, I've secretly called you Dixie ever since. You aren't Mommy ... you aren't Dixil ... you're Dixie, cause you always make me want to look south of the border."
Peals of laughter split the room as the two rolled in helpless hysteria at kitty's nickname. The thought that her own daughter had looked at her with frank-sexual leanings, that she admired her physically at forty-two, that she had hungering for her own father and maybe at least one brother, was compounded trauma that left Dixil weak from alternate crying and helpless laughing.
"So ... so ... call me Dixie!" she squealed, starting to resist the arms thrown round her shoulders, then surrendering to the disturbingly intimate need of a deeply distressed Kitty. The joke had washed away and they lay snugly entwined against each other's bodies, neither knowing how or when the peignoir slipped completely from Dixil or the satin totally from Kitty's frame. All at once they were moving slowly, rhythmically against each other, pubic mound snug against pubic mound and breasts mashing in delicious provocation.
"Dixie ... I love that," cooed Kitty, feeling that same dizzied sensation she had known whenever she played with Paula or Angela. "Dixil seems mannish and Mommy is for long ago days, but you feel like Dixie."
Deep and penetrating, far into her vagina the vibrations were stirring in Dixil. She closed her eyes and she was back in the dorm in Massachusetts and giving herself to an illicit pleasure, at least, so she had been bred. And now that tingling was back, as fresh as if the twenty-two years since last she felt it were only twenty-two minutes. The power of tenderness from another female, even her own daughter, with its promise of a gently probing tongue and with its present thrill of sweetly bound bodies, proved too much for her.
"Oh, Kitty, darling . . ." Low and powerful the orgasm crept deep into Dixil's loins and there was nothing in her strength of will to stop it. Like some tidal wave, not visibly shoved by any hand, the engulfing emotion was paralyzing a helplessly welcoming woman. To shriek it to a stop, tear herself from Kitty's arms and end what had rolled so fast so deep, would be obscene. She let herself go, feeling the spasms rack her lower body and ripple into the luscious girl grinding in merciless pelvic thrusts to deepen the climax.
"My God ... my God ... oh, I mustn't . . ." The waves of Dixil's spontaneous spunk madness kept rolling and cresting, finally, deliriously slowly, quieting. Incredulous chagrin captured her. She had been in sexual climax in the arms . . . not because of the arms ... of her own daughter. It never had been her intention.
Kitty was staring into her face when Dixil opened her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I made you come, 'cause I felt myself coming. You didn't know it was you who started us both, did you?"
Dixil shook her head and platinum hair moved listlessly as if as much in defeat as its wearer. "Like dominoes, weren't we?"
"You were radiant, Dixie." There was something predatory in Kitty's stare. "Your bod is like a girl in her twenties and when you were winging it you were all pink and sunshiny and your nipples-honestly! They were an inch long!"
"Winging it . . . ?" Dixil's musing look puzzled Kitty. "Where have I heard that?"
"I heard it back with Arnold the kink. He thought he invented it for one of his best gang-bangs for his wife."
"Kitty!" Dixil drew her gown across her shoulders and wished her daughter would do the same. Hard to forget when deep within, the lure was to let go and play lesby wild. She had to control herself, Dixil insisted to her conscience. Her daughter had had a heterosexual debacle and any homosexual play now could for all time destroy her interest in men. "Do you mean that Arnold actually forced you to sex acts with other men?"
"He was very big on displaying me to company. When I refused at first, he was very ready with the whip." Kitty stretched and hefted her right breast at the same time, displaying a fine line just under the curve of the boob. "That one drew blood and I was converted, believe me."
"What did he make you do?"
"He really did call it 'winging it.' After his midnight cocktail party was well lubricated, he'd order me up the stairs to the bedroom and all the guests would gather with their drinks in the huge foyer around the staircase to wave me off. Most of them knew what was coming.
"Arnold would follow in a few minutes and you could hear the cheers from down below. He had this harness which he'd rig under my arms with a brace at the back to be sure, as he used to pretend to care, that I was 'comfortable.' The brace put me in a horrible arch so that all my goodies were-on display. I can still hear him now, there at the balcony edge each time pretending to give a damn, asking 'Ready to wing it, dear Kitty?' Then he'd shove me out on this Peter Pan invisible wire and there I was, showing all."
"How beastly!" Dixil couldn't keep the sensations quiet in her breasts. The thought of gorgeous nude Kitty on animated exhibition was frantically erotic to her. "Is that what he did, wing you around above the guests and let them watch?"
"I should have been so lucky! He had this great game. He called it Kitty roulette. He'd flip the switch that sent me in a slow arc, then angle me down after half a dozen turns to his first target. Later he'd always swear it was pure chance, but the male I'd be aimed at was always red hot and ready.
"The others would strip him and he'd be shrieked at by Arnold to leave his wife alone and that would be Arnold's big jolly. What a weird scene! My husband, warped, skinny, ugly beast, naked with his cock in one hand and his motor control in the other, jerking himself off at the watching guests. My playmate would climb on my bod and jam it into me and away we'd go. That was Arnold's idea of 'winging it'!"
"You poor baby!" Dixil threw her arms impulsively around her daughter and mother love flooded in the embrace; that is, till deep and low the restless movement of woman wanting woman sent sizzling anticipatory tremors through Kitty's frame. "Let's be careful," hissed a frightened Dixie separating quickly and hovering over Kitty with maternal worry written on her face. "I'm afraid we both have a latent volcano inside."
"So what's so bad about that?" demanded Kitty, impatient at the slow disintegration of play possibility with one who had almost converted from mother to lover. "It's better than what Arnold had me do with creepy males."
Tumbling platinum blonde lengths partially obscured Dixil's face but not the sound of her pain. "My little girl! What did they do while you were winging it for him?"
Kitty stared emptily past her mother, remembering. "They fucked me out of my mind, if you want to know. I loved it at first, once I got rid of hating Arnold. It was scary and it was kind of beautiful at the beginning. There I was with a man's prick stuck all the way into my body and all that kept him from falling fifteen, maybe twenty feet, to the terrazzo hall floor were my legs locked around him. Everyone loved that. I have great legs, don't you think, Dixie?"
Dixil winced as she watched her bicycle her gorgeous legs from the prone position.
"You do have gorgeous legs, Kitty, and you're the most beautiful, most tantalizing, most considerate girl ever, and if a man is like Arnold, his aberrations would only be worse because you're all those things."
"Far as I'm concerned, I'm interesting only to creeps and kinks," sniffled Kitty, "and I'm not even aware of how normal men behave, anymore."
"How could you be anything else?" Dixil's eyes sparkled with a sudden idea. "You said you found the men in your family attractive, right? Normal, right?"
"Yes, but-"
"But no buts! You have my blessing to find your way back to normal woman feelings about men with them. Kiss them more; touch them. They won't bite and they'll never rape you. It's a good place to find the hetero life ... and ... and, well truth time now. The lesbian touch is feeling best as your way of love, isn't it?"
Kitty nodded slowly. "But not with just anybody."
Desperation clawed at Dixil, knowing she was suggesting what Stewart could reject in the way of overt demonstrativeness of his affection for wife and daughter. It had the ring of almost inviting full intimacy, but Dixil knew no such thing would ever take place in her family. She'd draw Barry and Dennis into the program, too, and between the three men they would rehabilitate Catherine Carr back into the land of living men. Talk ... touch ... kiss ... anything that felt normal and close. Dixil wondered if Barry and Dennis would be reluctant.
"Well... thanks." Kitty's satin gown was back over her shoulders and she was snugging the cord at her waist. "I love you, Dixie, and I love you wanting to help me. But won't Daddy think it kind of funny if ... well, you know, to talk privately it helps to close doors and ... be alone. I don't know how he'd feel with my going into Barry's room or Denny's."
"Don't worry. I'll pass the word." Dixil blew a loss to her daughter as she paused at the door. "I dare you tonight," she tempted. "Barry's always a late reader and he'll be awake and talkative after his weight lifting when they get home. Slip in. Close the door and chat with him."
"Maybe." Kitty looked unresponsive. "I've got a full day of experiments to work down at the school tomorrow."
"But make time," urged her mother. "It'd be sweet and you'd be surprised how much Barry's grown up in his conversation. By the way, how's the study going at Merriweather?"
"Wonderful. They're all so sweet to me there."
"How about Dennis? Is he underfoot?"
"He's a doll. So considerate and when he gets his chores done he bikes on home. He really may be very good in medicine someday. Nightie-night."
All the way down the hall to her room Kitty fought the storm of guilty afterthoughts for words that sounded so hypocritical. But she had been carried away and so had Dixie ... never again could she be "Mommy." It just seemed to get all mixed up, once she sensed her mother was literally sicking her at the men in the Carr family. What had started out to be a confession turned into a bigger web of deceit, and yet Kitty wondered who she was really deceiving. Dixie wanted no trap of lesbian play to mess up her life with Stewart and she had offered the men inside the family to rejuvenate what she thought was Kitty's flagging interest in heterosexuality.
Half an hour later, lying in her bed she heard the tires in the drive and a scurry of bare feet as Dixil ran downstairs. The screen door slammed loudly and voices at first exuberant quieted quickly and for almost an hour, before anyone came up the stairs to bed, she heard muffled undertones of earnest conversation. Odds were, Kitty bet, that her mother was already setting the stage for the three males to give one returnee from a broken marriage some special attention. She'd know in awhile.
Long after the hall light was off and the house had grown quiet, Kitty slipped Jrom her bed and eased open her bedroom door. Down the hall one door was the crack of light that declared Dixil right; Barry was reading and still awake.
She drew her full length bathrobe from the closet and moved out into the darkness of the hall, making no effort to move silently. At the far end of the hall behind her she heard the tiny familiar squeak of her parents' door. It was what she had hoped for.
"See!" hissed a triumphant Dixil to her husband, peering over her shoulder. "She listened. The poor thing is really needin' some normal male companionship and affection and must know it Look ... she's at Barry's-"
"I can see," snipped Stewart, turning toward his bed and feeling a curious envy that Barry was the chosen one. "So come to bed, psychoanalyst."
When Dixil crawled to the center of their king-sized bed, the state of Stewart Carr made the whole evening worthwhile. For the first time in more than a week, he was erect but never in their marriage could she remember him that kind of erect.
"Baby ... baby ..." she moaned in instant ecstasy at the feel of his hot flesh grinding across her thigh as he positioned himself for play. "This is the kind of man I want our Kitty to meet to make up for miserable Arnold."
"Will you shut up and forget Kitty?" he snorted, wishing he could take his own advice.
From the minute he had heard his wife urging in the kitchen that he and the boys ought to be specially tender to Kitty, that they ought to kiss and touch and even fondle her, if they dared, to make her feel like a wanted woman, Stewart had felt the bite of desire for his daughter. Dixil had sold him such a convincing package that, even as he slipped his horny erection through familiar cunty lips, he wondered if Kitty would feel like this.
He couldn't, reason stormed inside Stewart. No more than his sons would think of it, should he think of it. The way Dixil's suggestion had cracked both Dennis and Barry into convulsions, he obviously didn't have to worry that the boys were thinking his kind of adult thoughts. But that kind of thinking was hardly what Dixil had in mind and he'd have to walk a damned careful line, he lectured inwardly, even as he plunged brutishly into Dixil's very ready vagina.
In Barry's room a strange, silent, .mutual torture was being acted out. When she first entered, he was sprawled naked across the sheets and he was very, very hard. To go through the motions of propriety for the benefit of the two watching, she had tapped, waited two seconds, and opened the door quickly, as if invited in. She hadn't been.
It was one of the curious aftermaths of every weight lifting contest that Barry had to find quick sexual relief for his pent-up emotions. He was pumping feverishly at his erection and staring at a portrait of Kitty on his pillow as he excited himself.
She barely suppressed the exclamation and, closing the door, darted to his bed, stripping the robe as she ran. "Do it to the real thing, the right way," she demanded, throwing herself astride his legs and kneeing quickly to a position that put her cunty cleft an inch above his thunderhead prick-crown.
"Goddamnit, Kitty ... we shouldn't!" He tried to squirm from under. "If someone comes down that hall, they'd hear the sounds."
"We're going to do it the silent way." She fingered under her thigh and found the bulbous hugeness of his ripe prick-crown. A dot of semen oozing from the eyelet moistened her fingertip and she smudged it with disastrous effect across the satin sensitive glans cap.
"Ohhh ... hell!" he arched from the mattress driving his steely penis into her soft pussy-cleft and they were one-that fast! "Who cares who hears!" rasped Barry as the magic of his sister's vagina drove reason from his mind. "Let the whole world hear the prettiest sound ever made."
"Shhh ... that's the easy way." Kitty tightened her vaginal muscles to block more penetration till she had his attention. "We are going to go crazy with each other without a sound. In fact, we're even going to talk about your weight lifting tonight and about my graduate studies and make like brother-sister time, in case someone does come down the hall. Will you try?"
"How do you like Merriweather?" he demanded in remarkably well-faked calmness. "I mean the place is a bore, isn't it, after the big city?" He jammed upward slowly and felt her muscles relax to accept more of his outrageous cock.
"Love it. Let me tell you about the classes they have ..." She let herself be impaled on the bull-like prick, feeling her head swim with sheer rapture and knowing that she was about to be the failure at small talk while a mountaintop experience was tearing at her body.
There was no way seconds later that Barry could continue the charade of a conversation and dropping the attempt, he concentrated on making no sounds at all. The two focused all feeling on the meeting of cock and cunt. No hand play; no hp play to force unwanted exclamations from their passion partner's mouth.
It crept up quietly with the slow, torturous rocking of their bodies and the slight, vertical thrusting of an already totally buried cock. Neither could be sure when their orgasms began and as they felt the loss of any control over their bodies and their minds, they closed their eyes to shut out the animal wildness of their playmate's coming. In locked together silent mania they writhed and squirmed, and Kitty felt the barrage of his cum exploding into her cunt.
"You really dig going back to school, huh?" he asked matter-of-facdy and none too soon.
Outside his door Dixil, glowing with the savagery of her husband's demands on her body, listened furtively. She felt a guilty sense of betraying both her children to slip from her bedroom to eavesdrop, but Stewart had insisted. "You needn't go in," he'd snorted. They're just not going to be having much in common after all these years and you might as well see that trying to involve the boys with her problem is hopeless."
She went and she heard. For fifteen minutes she listened to the animated exchange between the two and then there was sudden total silence.
"It's really sweet to talk to you, Barry," Dixil heard Kitty say softly. "I guess we've been sorta strangers for a while."
"Not strangers any more," he answered and Dixil congratulated herself for a step in the right direction. "Sure nice of you to want to talk."
"I love it. It really helps." Unseen by Dixil, Kitty was stroking the limp rubbery penis, listening intently with her head tilted toward the door. She was sure she had heard the rustle of her mother's robe and it was time to see how far the maternal liberties were intended.
"You have a super bod, Barry. I'm glad you feel comfortable loafing around in practically nothin' while we yak."
"Heck, why not? You trust me, don't you?"
Td better," giggled Kitty and Dixil edged closer to hear all. "Case you didn't know it, you're showing and I think that's great. No embarrassment." She jumped from the chair she'd chosen for the charade in Mommy's behalf. "I'm hot, so if undies aren't bad taste, I'll get out of this robe."
"Look, in my book, you're Miss Perfect and I could care less if you even wanted to be naked. We trust around here. You even trust me showin', as you said. Can't help it. I get really stirred up with the lifting competition and it all builds up when I get home. Maybe I'm freaky like someone else I know."
"Don't you dare compare yourself to Arnold!" flashed Kitty. "That man has just about finished me with all men. But I get funny vibes being round home here. With you, specially, and it's a good honest feeling. You're beautiful to let me stay while it kind of acts up."
A glow diffused through listening Dixil's body. All that she had hoped for was happening inside that closed door. The two knew the limits, but they were finding new confidence to talk about something that clearly Kitty needed help with. She turned from the door to go back to the master bedroom, bumping unexpectedly into Stewart halfway down the hall darkness in search of her.
The collision brought another pleasant surprise to Dixil. He wore a freshened erection and that was something of a milestone in their recently decaying love life. "Everything all right?" he demanded, letting her turn him back toward their room by his protruding cock-handle.
"Couldn't be better," she whispered, hoping privately that her two oldest offspring would make even more progress toward a permissible intimacy of touching and, even if the spirit moved them, of stroking.
It occurred to her that in more than one family such parental encouragement as she had given Kitty had led to incest. Never here in the Carr household, she was convinced. And if the spirit moved any of them, even Stewart, to a brand of intimacy, like hand or lip stimulation, that would be fine, too. This was an emergency in Kitty's life-it was also an emergency in Dixil's life. She had felt dangerously close to the edge of being commandeered by woman-to-woman love and that could be a total disaster.
In Barry's bedroom a taut silence separated the two as they sat momentarily divided by their thoughts. Both felt the grab of danger in the course they had elected, but both felt the whipping need to be together in innocent play. Kitty looked across the space that separated her from her brother's chair and smiled at the towel he had hastily pulled over his naked body when he too had heard his mother's gown rustle at the door.
The rigid prick-pole stabbed high, lifting the towel with it, and Barry eased the cloth gradually to the point where it slid over the crimson tomato tip.
"Ooohhh ... beautiful!" Kitty remained motionless, staring at the drama of her muscled Adonis of a brother, sprawled arrogantly on his chair and flagging his erection at her.
"Come and get it," beckoned the finger, even though its owner said nothing.
She stood unsteadily, dizzied by the prospect of yet another act of high risk copulation. There was no way, as she had with Denny, that she could arrange a playpen away from home, yet she needed Barry's cock as much, or more, than Denny's.
It was one way to prove a theory, she thought as she slid across his thighs and pressed his chest back when he tried to rise to take her to the bed. Her SACKS theory said sex was best when anxiety played a part and she knew they both had something to be frightened about. If this night Daddy Stewart should come through that door as she copulated with her brother, there would be no way to measure the outrage. No telling the damage to her whole family. "Fuck me," she whispered, feeling him angle his erection to press the warm knob against her vulva. "Shove it all the way in without stopping."
His hands were firm on her hips and he drew her slowly atop the soaring penis, then dragged her down, relentlessly forcing against yielding but snug vaginal tissue, crushing his way through the sweet pussy-flesh till their bodies were molded mound to mound and their chests were cemented tightly.
"Barreeee!" she panted, fighting to hold her voice to a whisper. "You have to kiss me very hard the whole time we're doing it or I'll scream ... please, Barry ... take me!"
Their lips met and sealed and his copulation thrusts were sure and firm. In the few short weeks of their intimacies her brother had moved to accomplished lover and his performance now was that of the long experienced. He urged their bodies in coital rhythm, holding her breasts snugly mashed against his chest and building an all possessing wildness through her frenzied form. The sight of her impassioned expression, the tossing of long dark hair, the shapely perfection of shoulders and arms, and the feel of all the rest of her he could not see was beautiful to Barry.
Whatever came of their illicit play, he knew he would never judge her other than wonderful for leading him into the ways of woman and the arts of love.
Her eyes, wide and wonder-filled with a childlike innocence, tore the semen from his buried prick and drove them both in a breathless 'fantastic finish.
CHAPTER SIX
It was late Monday evening and Kitty could not get rid of that expectant feeling that something very big was about to happen to her. Inside she had that giddy, little girl breathlessness she always used to feel before Christmas. Outside, as she stood before her bathroom mirror smudging a spot of Banmark over the tiny scratch on her breast, she had a special radiance.
Almost like a bride, she thought, experiencing the first uncomfortable memory of the day, recalling that the only time she had been a bride was when she made the great mistake with Arnold.
Shivering involuntarily at that disaster, she studied the blend of the cosmetic antiseptic where a fingernail had marked her boob, frowned and touched the spot again.
"Ouch!" She caught her breast and massaged the area when the astringent salve stung. Instantly both nipples blossomed hard. "You've had lots today, now quiet down!" she scolded the taut cones.
Why she responded to the curiosity, Kitty didn't know, but wondering if the nipple tissue would sting to the feel of Banmark, she put a tiny bit on each forefinger and touched both raised cherries simultaneously.
"Ooohhh!" The healing salve which might have been perfect for scratches and cuts was a sudden frantic itching applied to her nipples.
With an impatient cry she grabbed both boobs and cupped them close, trying to press out the tantalizing pin pricks now rifling through from her chest to her crotch and traveling to every erogenous point on a body well satiated by loving through a long wonderful Monday.
The sharp knock at the door came as the mad itching reached a new peak. "Catherine? Catherine, are you all right? We're down at the pool ... I heard-"
"All ... almost ... Daddy ... oooh, golly!" The torture of the persistent antiseptic broke up her response and gave Stewart Carr the certainty his daughter was in pain. With sudden boldness, not a mark of Stewart when it came to breaking in on women in bathrooms, he stormed into Kitty's presence.
He stopped short, stared at the nude by the sink, clutching her breasts in a strangely possessed way, spun on his heel to leave in embarrassment, then stopped. Kitty watched him turn slowly back to face her, his snug red rivieras dripping from his quick dash from the swimming pool.
"What's wrong, Catherine?" His stare, failing its attempt to fix on her face, was riveted on the odd way she was clasping her magnificent boobs. "Are you hurt, dear?"
"I'm on fire, feels like!" she gasped, the titty torture of the Banmark mingled with another sensation. She was besieged with lust for the man before her and unintentionally she was advertising all her wealth and begging for his help with the stupid thing she had done to herself.
"What happened? Tell me!" He was directly in front of her now, flushed with mixed modesty and runaway libido at the sight of the stacked wonder of the girl. Obviously in some kind of difficulty with herself, heaving her explosively packed breasts, she seemed to be presenting them for his dining pleasure. For too long he had fantasized doing just that and the grab in his groin warned that his lust was ahead of his sense of paternal propriety.
"I got something on my nipples," moaned Kitty. They're like a million needles! So do something!"
"Here." Stew dove for the washcloth draped across the curve of the tub and soaked it under the cold faucet quickly. "Try this," he squeezed the excess water.
"You do it, Daddy," she pleaded. "It helps if I can hold them up high while you put pressure on ... maybe air, too." She bent to blow a breath over the tumid cone and trembled to the erotic sensation that the warm air triggered.
"Does it help?" asked a light-voiced father as he covered the center of one breast with the cold compress.
She squeezed her eyes and waited a fraction of a second. "Oh, no, that's bad. My blowing on myself helped more ... Daddy, would ... could you do that for me?"
Wild renegade lusts churned in Carr's loins, yet there was only begging innocence in Kitty's eyes as she clutched both breasts even tighter. The pain was worsening.
"Maybe a doctor ..." he tried. "No, let me see .. Fighting to conceal the tremor of excitement, he leaned to about a foot from the erect nipple, now showing red through the lovely sunshine pink of its natural state.
"That helped. Can you do it real close now?" She drew her shoulders back to present the silken-skinned perfection of the tempestuous globes, aware of their impact on the man. "Come close as you can. The warm air feels soothing. Really helps."
How does a man deny a plea like that? Even when the innocent is his own daughter? Even when his rivieras are swollen now to bursting with a cock determined to present itself with the least ripple of a gut muscle.
"Oh, that's comforting. Do it more," panted Kitty, transfixed by the sight of the very masculine daddy she had for years laid imaginary plots for. His lips were puckered less than an inch from one of her nipples and at that second she made another discovery, even as he breathed warm air on the taut cone. Daddy had himself in total erection under those bright red mini trunks and the fabulously swollen head of his prick was even now nudging a slight aperture at the top ledge of his minimal cover. He was clearly caught in a bind 'of having to help her and wanting desperately to enjoy himself with the first aid.
"Daddy, in medicine they say saliva is the best soother of all. Could you ... would you mind ... maybe kiss it or even wet it with your lips? I'll bet the itch will go away."
His head swirled with the deliciouss certainty that his oversexed nature was going to bring an exposure of stiffened cock to Kitty. "Catherine ... I..."
"Please try it, Daddy. It'll help me." She urged forward as she asked and Stew made a fatal recoil, sucking in his gut in surprise at her move and giving his relentlessly urgent prick the thrust it needed to burst the top ledge. He bent quickly to her breast to block her view below.
"Oh, yes... that's so good ... oohhh, do it more!"
Lips ovalled at the center of her breast were nursing eagerly and his tongue was a darting fire as Stew, frenzied by the delicious erotic terror of his bared prick barrel, tried to stuff it from sight back in the trunks while he hoped against hope he would be unseen. , Kitty saw. Kitty fought the mischief twist inside that whipped her to want to laugh, knowing that a laugh would destroy the man and their relations. Her head swimming to a pre-orgasm building from the breast love, she still had control-control and a sadistic drive to bring her father to his knees before her. Here, in this male of her childhood dreams, in this man whose sexual prowess she had long been in awe of ... Kitty saw a man she both loved and condemned. Condemned because her father could have stepped in when there was still time to break up her mistake with Arnold which he later had so smugly said he knew was a mistake.
The tube of Banmark caught her eye on the corner of the sink and a little smidgen of its astringent pink cream oozed at the opened top. Her finger darted impulsively and snared the salve that had maddened her nipples and at the same instant she gave a little cry of delight.
"Feels so good, Daddy!"
Blushing with chagrin at his loss of self-control over his most personal part, Stew felt her palms at his hips and knew his only escape from massive embarrassment was to hide the phallus and keep her preoccupied while he accomplished the impossible. It felt ten feet long. He nibbled her nipples eagerly.
"Nuff ... oh, stop. I ... it's too stimulating." She drew back, her hands still at the man's hips, one fingertip carrying the tiny torture she had for him. "You ... for goodness sake, I bother you!" she exclaimed as he sheepishly straightened, and the clear view down his front showed the thick trembling column of stallion-at-the-ready.
"Sort of a backfire on the old man!" croaked a distraught Stew, trying futilely to find a word to make a joke of what was no joking matter. Kitty gambled in the split second after his exposure that there was too much hard-on for Stew to cram from sight. Looking the picture of trapped rapist with no place to run, he was ready for sympathy as she bent to kiss him squarely on the lips. Time and the effort to conceal himself stood still.
"Don't be embarrassed," she consoled. "It's really very flattering and there's no need to hide it."
"Gawd, what a show your old man puts on!" he choked.
"A very pretty show and scary, too, that's what. There's so much of you!" Her hands caught the sides of the elastic material and dragged downward. "Let's adjust you back to place, you naughty big stick. All you're good for is scaring and beating and hurting sweet little girls, anyway!"
"Huh?" Her words burned into his chaotic thoughts but a sudden awareness burned more. She had stripped his cover down to his thighs, exposing everything. At the same instant a second awareness. Another burn! At the swollen, feverish end of his lusting prick a mad fire was building. So preoccupied with his state, Stew hadn't noticed her smudge the pink, almost invisible salve on the tip of his cock.
"Here, everything under cover!" she exclaimed, dragging the briefs up and over his testicles and the now inflamed phallus. That's better for mister modesty."
"Ye gods!" moaned Stew, doubling over to the wave of frenzied itching that stormed the hyper-sensitized prick-crown worsened now under the taut elastic cover. "What the hell's wrong with me?"
"Where, Daddy?" Her expression was virginal innocence as she looked up his. front from where she had dropped to a kneeling position.
"Down there ... Ceeriminy! I'm on fire!" He was possessed with a passion to do something-anything to relieve the frenzied itch and, a man beside himself, he dragged down the rivieras and the tumultuous erection sprang into Kitty's face, literally smashing its fleshy crown against her partially opened mouth.
With malice aforethought, her lips went wide and Stew's agonized cock-cap shot from sight into a warm and soothing oral pit. For surprised, ecstatic seconds he let her have her way, munching, licking, sucking the buried cap and quickly building a charge deep inside. Then, some distantly remembered conscience slammed home in his thoughts and he reeled backward, dragging his sopping organ from her lips with an outburst of incoherent choked-off cries.
"You don't know what you're doing!" he gasped when he found his breath and grabbed the bath towel from the rack beside the tub. "God, Catherine, that was close!"
"I knew." She said it simply, her head bowed and her shoulders moving convulsively as if she were crying. "I only wanted to help."
"Good Lord! I almost did something I'd be terribly sorry for," he panted, finding his breath slowing gradually.
"I know what you almost did. I know too you're ashamed of me as a woman and a wife, but mostly as a female. Anyway, I heard the back door slam and it's probably Mommy coming to check up. You better go"
"Look... Catherine ... I..."
"Please go!"
"Maybe ... well, it's late and we're down at the poolside having night drinks. Come on down." He shuffled uneasily to the bathroom door, letting the towel drop over the ledge of the tub, unneeded now with his lust shocked to momentary collapse.
She looked up into his eyes and there was accusation in her stare. "You pretend that man and woman should be natural, but let something happen where a woman can help a man, doesn't matter if it's her family, and it's hypocrisy. I think men just want to hurt, sexually, emotionally, every way."
"Baby, no ... that's not right. Look, tell you what. Well prove we're not hypocrites. You come on down to the pool and let's all be our natural selves. I mean, you know, skinny dip and all that. Don't know about Dixil. She may strip, too." The idea grabbed him as he saw the curiosity in her eyes.
"The boys are sacked out and you can come as you are," he chuckled. "Just bring a towel and if you don't mind your Mommy being almost out of it from too much booze, we can talk and have some fun. And ..." His eyes dropped to his waist, then raised again. "And you did help my problem, young lady. I don't itch any more."
"You helped mine, too, Daddy. I'll be right down." She gave a little parting wave. The look in his eye as be turned away told her that one of the prize studs of the Carr family tree had just had his antique notions about right and wrong within the family ridden over roughshod.
Alone with her thoughts and her emotions, a frustrated but confident Kitty walked across the bedroom and pushed the drape aside to look down at the backyard. Only the patio corner of the pool area was visible and she could see her mother had already returned with a freshened drink and was sprawled lazily on a chaise. From where she watched it looked to Kitty as if Dixil were almost asleep. Her planning for conquest of Daddy depended on taking a chance and on his needing too desperately to chicken.
She strolled across her room and flopped naked on her bed, weighing the dangers. He was psyched to almost anything that would give him reason to play with her, yet not be discovered. It was up to Kitty to whet his appetite still more. He had to be out of his skull with wanting and that could come, if she just ignored the idea tonight. Let him think he hadn't driven her bananas when he licked her boobies and when he shoved his cock against her lips. What a prick! She squirmed on the bedspread at the way the crown had been almost too big to take orally. What would it do to her pussy? Beautiful!
She left the bed and again walked to the window and now she could see her father perched on the edge of the chaise talking earnestly to a half-awake wife. That puzzled Kitty. Her mother had never been a heavy drinker-not until the last week and then she had been soused late almost every evening. She saw the platinum hair slide indolently to one side as Dixil's head lolled and from the disgusted shake of her fathers head, Kitty could tell he had not gotten the satisfaction of Mommy's agreement to skinny-dipping family style. But from all the pushing by Dixil in their mother-daughter chat, Kitty knew that would have been more than welcomed. Daddy was just uptight. And that made him riper than ever for the come-on.
She slipped from the room and strolled down the hall, knowing that both boys were sound asleep. It had been quite a day at the lab with Dennis. He had left for home after giving her three hand-pumped specimens and taking his reward in one romp on the day bed. But he was shot down at supper table and excused himself before dessert.
Mid-evening Kitty had visited Barry's room and they had thoroughly enjoyed each other for an hour, perfecting their game of coitus-with-conversation to satisfy any potential eavesdropper by Barry's door, making it appear that it was just an in-family bull session. Dixil had loved what she saw of Kitty's taking her urging to get closer to Barry and Dennis, never dreaming the lengths the closeness had stretched to. But now, moving past the boy's rooms, Kitty felt a superiority over the two sacked out behind closed doors. She had taken their best and she was fresh and ready for more, while they lay dead to the world, exhausted from their sex play with her. Who said men were the stronger sex? she wondered triumphantly.
At the door from the rec room that opened out onto the patio she paused. Her father was stripped of his rivieras, strutting in pretended casualness around the tile edging of the pool. To one side, her bikini-clad body so completely relaxed she could only be asleep, lay Dixil, sprawled in the same position Kitty had seen from her bedroom window. It was a chance for a very daring romp with Daddy. It also was a better chance to set him up for much, much more and avoid the possibility of Mommy waking. Kitty opted for the last.
"Hi," she called softly, stepping from the rec room and waving timidly.
He strode quickly and silently toward her, confirming her guess that he wasn't altogether sure Dixil was totally out of it. Pinpricks danced inside her at the sight of his naked body. The thirty yards of lawn he had to cross to the patio gave it plenty of time to happen and in the moonlight Kitty saw the miracle. Slack penis to rampaging total hard-on before he reached her side. Curiously, Stewart Carr didn't seem to care.
"Good! You came ready for skinny-dipping." He smiled, swinging an arm round her waist and making no effort to avoid contact of an awkwardly pendulum-like prick against her hip.
"Yes, but Mommy isn't." Kitty looked over her daddy's shoulder at the prostrated figure. "I wouldn't want to unless she did, too."
"She's out cold, I'm afraid." He shivered as a chill wind blew over the planning. "Hey, the wild itch I got up in the bathroom--you know, I was thinking it was almost exactly the same as yours on your nipples. Could it have been on the washcloth I used, you suppose? I mean, that stuff that set us both up like a house afire?"
"Maybe it was." Kitty glanced down in mock shyness. "I'm sorry about what I did. I know a man's organ is...well, it's something women just don't understand, I guess. I thought my saliva might help the itch, but it offended you. You thought I..."
"Let's go in for a dip and we can talk about it," he interrupted. "It didn't offend me at all. It was just I was afraid you might misunderstand."
Kitty froze as he tugged her elbow. "That's just it. I did misunderstand and I did a bad thing. I'm a freaky girl but I would have gone right ahead and sucked your cock till you let it come and that's that! You better just write me out of the family." With a half-suppressed cry she spun on her heel and darted back into the rec room, hurrying for her bedroom and leaving a nonplussed father staring at the darkness of the interior of the house.
It was much later as Kitty lay sleeping fitfully that her door eased open. A driven man, unable to quiet his driving lust from the moment he had touched her breasts with his lips in her bathroom, had finally cracked.
For two sleepless hours Stewart Carr lay beside the motionless form of his wife, remembering event by event the way his daughter had been around him. She had had a terrible start in woman to man relationships. Dixil herself had pressed him to do something, almost anything, to bring her back to the world of hetero sex again. Stew had absolutely no doubt that Dixil had a line he was not to cross and that was copulation. Almost anything else would be allowed; but now, only a total sexual relation with Kitty would do. She had been wise to abandon him at the pool but it was far from a dead issue. Another night, maybe even the next, would be a possibility with a little prepping of Dixil with the alcohol
Meanwhile Stew, whipped with want, had to finish the unfinished business begun several hours earlier. He had mulled over and over the incident of the salve that had maddened his cock. Even now he had a low grade itching torturing it to near constant hard. But the washcloth theory didn't make it, he'd decided; the little vixen had somehow managed to touch his prick with the same stuff she'd dabbed on her nipples herself. She admitted that She'd probably rigged the whole encounter.
He moved silently across the room and stood at the side of her bed. Breathtaking beauty was all there in her face, he thought staring down at the sheet covering the girl from the shoulders down. A little murmur sent a chill racing up his spine, but then he didn't care. Even if she should wake, he would see this through. Kitty turned her head and he urged himself still closer to the edge of the bed. Those lips that earlier had milked him all too briefly were parted, and by straining slightly he could almost nudge them with his prick.
She stirred again and her head moved providentially closer; her beautiful profile was turned slightly and the intruder was party to the sense-maddening sight: dark fringe of her hair, smoothly chiseled line of her face, shadowed eyes with long lashes clearly visible in the moonlight and then the classic Grecian beauty of her lovely throat. And above it jutting in formidable bludgeon horniness, was the grotesque white shaft of his outsized phallus. Less than an inch from her mouth.
Without warning her eyes opened and her tongue darted from pouting lips spearing directly against the swollen mushroom of his cock-crown.
"Daddy, thank you for bringing it back," she whispered at the shadowed silhouette standing above her bed. "Would you like me to kiss more of the burn away?"
"Please," he gagged, grabbing for the confidence he had built for this illicit mission.
For one or two seconds she licked the right-angled prick, her tongue probing saucily at the foreskin peeled partially back across the fat dark corona. "I love it that you have a covering foreskin. It's sensitive, isn't it?"
"Awwwgghh ..." No way to make a coherent answer for the man possessed and a hell of a time for her to play nurse.
"It'd really be nice if I could play with it while I kiss it all better," she said.
"Do!" Stew found his voice abruptly, urging forward to push the cap against her warm lips. "Do it as much as you want."
The fingers of her hands entwined as she clasped the phallic shaft, kicking to shed the sheet from hiding her nudity. Her eyes fixed unwaveringly on his as she jammed the cone to her mouth and she seemed like someone he had never known till this moment.
Completely caught in the web of his lust, Stewart Carr watched transfixed, feeling as though he were two persons, spectator and participant at the same instant.
Her tongue licked casually around the distended foreskin down now nearly all the way off the broad glans, almost to the wide ledge. A httle pressure from that flesh dart teasing along its sensitive thinness and the covering flap would pull over the cock-crown. The tip of her tongue somehow wormed under the thin sheath and deviled maddeningly, forcing a groan-from her victim.
Abruptly the tongue moved to center front and stabbed at the eyelet of his penis.
"All that love a man has comes squirting right through here," she murmured to no one in particular. Her lips puckered as if to kiss his cock, then opened to admit part of the cap. Warm, moist heavenly cave.
He urged himself forward and heard a fleshy suction as the totality of his swollen mushroom went from sight into her lips. Breathless, lest she spew his ecstasy-possessed organ from its oral trap, he gaped at the way her mouth took his prick. She was almost too small for his size and the snug fit had wrinkled the foreskin to the sides of her lips and the horny washboard-rippled shaft was a white spear driven into a silken heart-shaped mouth.
The worst happened. She jerked the cock into the open, sopping with its initial bathing, quivering and leaping with desire. "One question, Daddy," Her eyes fixed unblinkingly on his as she wig-waggled the stiff spike. "S'pose Mommy walked in here right this minute. She walks a lot at night, you know. Would you be ashamed ...? Tell me the truth."
"God, no, Kitty." Stew rose to the challenge and grabbed his daughter's hair at the nape of her neck, firmly but not painfully, the way Arnold used to. "I'd not be ashamed. I'd say, 'Darling, look at our daughter.' Now take it ... TAKE IT!" He dragged her head forward and demandingly impaled her through the lips with his rampant prick. "Suck me, my dear!"
A trickle of warm saliva drooled and her eyes danced expectantly as she felt the almost instant pulsations along the cock-shaft. Slowing the pace of the rhythmic fellatio, compressing more lightly as she finger-stroked in concert with her siphoning, she milked the act over five wild minutes at the borderline of orgasm, leading him to the edge of coming and then feeling his own effort to stave off the climax as he slowed her suck fever. His breath suddenly shortened and his frame stiffened to statue rigidity.
"Going ... oh, my God ... baby doll ... I'm going to...!"
Humping helplessly as his orgasm commandeered him totally, Stew felt the ejaculation storm into her mouth and made no effort to tear himself free. The instant she took the first semen spray, something triggered deep inside the girl; even in the midst of his own frenzied coming, he was entranced by the spectacle of her response. Kitty was in the grip of uncontrolled climax herself, hips writhing, pelvic muscles grinding her body upward as if she were meeting the man in intercourse. Long seconds after the last of his load shot against the roof of her mouth, she was still quivering in her own ecstasy.
Thirsty lips continued to milk his softening cock and he made no effort to break the spell that gripped the girl. Very gradually the spasms slowed and her body quieted, then the soaking, rubbery hose of his penis slid from her lips. Her words just before she took him had needled through his thoughts off and on during these minutes of fellatio. What if Dixil had walked in? He had sounded brave, but he would have had probably total cardiac arrest, he knew. Would he have dared go on?
He shifted to the edge of the bed and knew that with the least encouragement he would throw himself across that luscious daughter body and there would be nothing that could keep him from fully possessing this beautiful female. No matter if she was his daughter. That was long-gone forgotten now. Somehow, by some twisted logic, the fact that he had set the girl on fire for men-play made him the benefactor after her years of distorted training by that son-of-a-bitch who called himself a husband to her. Stewart Carr was her benefactor and what the rest of the tribe ruled about such things as daughter sucking Daddy didn't matter a damn to the possessed man.
"Go 'way." She was no longer looking at him and a chill needled his spine.
"You all right, Catherine?" The formality seemed to help dignify what had happened.
"Too all right! Go!"
He stumbled from the edge of the bed and cinched the belt on his robe, reaching for the right words. None would come. The request he'd heard only days earlier from his wife that he ought to give their daughter special attention had hardly meant this, but it hounded him as he headed for the master bedroom.
Stew shook his head in awe at just how natural all that had transpired had seemed to her and especially to him, once committed. He was sure Dixil would kill him if he had been caught as Kitty had taunted. And what of Kitty herself? He wondered as he tiptoed across to the huge bed and the unmoving figure of his wife-what of Kitty? Had he just set in motion destroying forces? "I'm too all right ..." she had mourned and that sounded like almost anything but good.
Easing carefully onto his bed, he slipped under the sheet and lay listening to Dixil's even breathing, certain that what had happened in Kitty's room had to be just the beginning. A fierce erection stiffened when his wife stirred toward the center of the bed and brushed his body. A fleeting vision sprayed across his thoughts of Kitty in bed with him and with Dixil and the three of them going crazy together.
Moments later he was plunged deeply into Dixil's vagina and her cunty muscles were flaccid and disinterested in his cock offering as he took her. The ultimate in frustration. He was absolutely certain that his wife never ever woke during their early morning hours lovemaking. Her responses were mere reflexes and while she seemed even awake at times near his crest, murmuring and panting and clearly achieving orgasm herself, her eyes were closed and her head lolled from side to side to the violence of his piston thrusts.
It had been that way for years, he thought, when he moved away from her frame and curled alone at the side of the bed, as close to the edge as he could get. Dixil drove him to quick crest with the maddening sensuality of her body and she could do it while soundly asleep. Now in the wake of their latest copulation, he remembered another-the eagerness and the want and the passion in Kitty's face as she pleaded for his cock. No boredom for that one! For all her youthful, sexual innocence, she was female on fire to make a man happy when she made love. Far better than someone he bored, whom he couldn't wake-who even for the past week had preferred to get stoned by midnight than face the fact of loving him.
He felt the distant needling prod to leave his bed and go back to the girl's room again. Dixil would never know and Kitty had had time since he left to think. Odds were almost certain she would be lying right now exactly as he left her, sprawled in all her intoxicating nudity, waiting for him to take her all the way to paradise on the end of his steaming cock.
He eased carefully from the bed and moved toward the door, not even glancing at Dixil as he passed the end of their bed, certain she was asleep. As he reached for the doorknob he gaped down the front of his naked body, so aroused he hadn't even covered his frame with a robe. The startling whiteness of the cock-barrel projected rigidly before him and the need to take it to Kitty was so overwhelming that covering himself was the last thing on his mind.
"Stewart?" Dixil's voice cut like a knife through his euphoric lust clouds. "You getting up?"
He stiffened, his back to the bed, hoping she hadn't seen his erection. "Just goin' for a nightcap," he muttered, hoping she would buy the lie that it was still nighttime. "Can't seem to get to sleep and it might help."
"Mmmmm ..." Her murmur was dream-soft and she was obviously drifting off, but the adventure was spoiled. All thoughts of a return to Kitty's room were gone. Much too dangerous. The instinct for survival in him was large and as the battle raged between common sense and desire for the girl down the hall the survival drive won hands down.
He had been right about Kitty. As he had passed by her closed door she had been lying spread-eagled on her bed, tasting the residue of her father's semen dried on her lower hp. Her body had quieted but not till she had fingered herself through climax, wishing it , were daytime again and she was back at Merriweather in her lab.
Henderson Windham had stopped by briefly the day before, narrowly missing an act he would never have tolerated, even by the liberal standards he'd granted for her research in male fertility. Dennis had just left the cot and put his cut-offs on and she was bra and panty-clad when the director came through the door, for the first time without a preliminary knock. The hastily pulled-on smock had been her signal to Dennis that his cleanup services or any other services would not be needed anymore that day and he had departed.
The conversation between grad school director and a slightly flustered student had been awkward. He had been embarrassed to invite himself back for a redo of that first day's encounter and another donation to her semen study, but Kitty had read him loud and clear. It was set then. He'd be slipping in about the end of his lunch hour, somewhere around one-thirty, if that was convenient. It was more than convenient. Kitty felt delicious vibrations toward Henderson Windham that she felt toward no other man. Not sexual alone, though they were powerfully there. But there was something so knowing in his eyes and something so respectful there, too. It was almost as if he were aware of the vast liberties she was taking with her brother, yet he didn't condemn it.
Kitty shook the notion aside. No way the school director could have an inkling. He hadn't seen her since his first visit. She closed her eyes and wished the taste of her father's bitter sweet semen would go away ... knowing she lied in the wish. It was the taste she loved most in life.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Daddy, are you and Mommy going to take a swim tonight?" She was parked between the two on the den's gigantic lounger-for-lovers, far more interesting with three squeezed together on its S-shaped contour of soft, body-absorbing padding.
"Guess so," he muttered, staring at the late news and pretending disinterest in the question. "Don't think Mommy is going to last, though."
"Coursh shyam." Dixil tilted the glass to her lips and winked when she saw Kitty watching. "Jus you two wash me jump in the water."
"Mommy, don't you think four's enough for one evening?" Kitty squirmed to her side, trying to reach Dixil's glass, and the effort forced her billowing housecoat to flow loosely across her father's legs. It was a welcome cover for a savagely aroused Stew, who till the last few minutes had managed to contain his excitement over having Kitty lying pressed between himself and Dixil. With the quick shift of Dixil from respectable high to downright loaded, his heat surged for Kitty's sizzling bod, pressed so tantalizingly against his side through CBS Friday Night At The Movies.
Dixil had urged that the three of them use the Lova lounger and Kitty recognized at once Mommy's application of the program she'd been pushing of in-family coziness. The first of the evening had seen Dixil in the middle and Kitty on the outside. During that time Stew and Dixil had played openly with each other and Kitty had alternately pretended preoccupation with the movie and at other times lay, watching and going quietly batty as Dixil massaged Stew's erection through his boxer shorts, thumbing it sensuously and almost bringing him on with Kitty watching. It was the phone's ringing that broke up what might have turned into an open orgy and the girls watched Stew dash from the room, his penis hard against the trunks.
"Boys are having fun," he muttered on his return to the den. "Barry thinks he'll take State Elimination tomorrow and they want to stay overnight a second night if he wins. Big celebration."
That settled he had slumped back onto the lounger and somehow Kitty had been gravitated to the middle. It made the end table more accessible to Dixil for her glass and her cigarettes, Kitty reasoned, but she knew that wasn't the truth. Her mother had negotiated the switch to put her near her father.
Late news finished, Stew, who could no longer stand mild overtures to Kitty under cover of her housecoat, left the lounger and turned off the TV. Pity for the man was hardly what Kitty was feeling, but she did feel sympathy that he'd had to wear that impossible erection under those tight shorts for more than three hours.
"So, how about it, Kitty . . . Dixil. . . shall we have a dip?" He reached a hand to pull his wife from her near prone position. "We can get in our suits and-"
"Oh, I didn't mean wear bathing suits," interrupted Kitty. "I mean just go in like you two always do. After all, there's nothing left to shock me anymore, is there? I lived with Arnold for two years."
There was a peculiar look in Dixil's eye as she murmured an incoherent agreement to the skinny-dipping idea. "You should forgesssh bashhtard Arnold . . ." Only Stew's arm kept her knees from buckling as he turned her toward the stairs.
His strategy had crystallized and by the time he walked her up to the master bedroom she was almost asleep. He stepped into the bathroom and, when he opened the door to reappear naked, he knew what he was going to do. For a moment he stared at the figure on the bed, luscious and provocative, even when she was stoned. He wondered if she was really asleep.
"Dixie?"
"Mmmmhh."
"Let's go, baby. Pool's waitin'. I'm going to undress you." He slipped her slacks over her hips and leaned across her front to unbutton her tunic.
"Be rishhh there," she muttered.
Stew studied the tantalizing curves as he kneed across the edge of the bed and dropped to her side. His wife had a superlative body, dramatically turned at every woman point of her. Stretched across the brilliant red spread, one hand limp across a ripe and firm breast, she was a distractingly stacked female whose body, perfectly toned from daily tennis at the club, was an enticing invitation to any man. Even to her husband who hovered across her, rock hard and ready. He wondered if she ever had the same thoughts toward other men as those that plagued him now toward their daughter. His erection pounded hard and eager and he crept across Dixil's neatly tapered thigh, tanned and taut.
Outside their window a splash at the pool sounded and Kitty was calling them to hurry. He felt the tug to run to the new call and the simultaneous yearning to take this luscious body in front of him and have done with his fever to fuck Kitty. Arched across his wife's body, weight resting on one palm while he angled his monumental cock toward the cunty cleft, Stew remembered the limp unresponsiveness of Dixil's vagina when she was as far gone drunk as now. Never would Kitty's cunt be a loaf of bread. In fact, Stew wondered if his daughter could even accommodate his massiveness. On his sneak visit to her room her mouth had spread wide to take the full prick he offered her. Even then his foreskin had been squeezed to the sides of her pretty lips because of his jumbo size. Tiny mouths mean tinier twats and even if Stewart Carr hadn't had a first hand look at his daughter's sex-cleft in nearly ten years, he would bet she hadn't grown that much since twelve.
"Hurry, Daddy," came Kitty's soft call from the poolside.
He slipped from Dixil's side and walked to the window naked, aroused and committed to his plan. "Be right there," he called, not caring whether Dixil heard or saw or what. He remained at the drape while staring down at Kitty and fondled his frantic erection. In this moment she was a girl who looked like no one Stew had ever seen before.
Poised with animal grace at the end of the high diving board she stood nude and radiantly sexual, rich breasted, with wild, wide hips showing a narrow band of white from her bikini tan line; every animated ounce of her ripe figure bounced lightly on the springboard begging for his love. She was a young goddess of desire.
Abruptly he turned from the sight that whipped him to want to rush for the poolside and skip all the strategy. Dixil still lay where he had left her, nearly unconscious. It was time to make absolutely sure she would have no energy or thoughts left for swimming with them this evening. Stew flung himself across his wife and let her feel his cock's excitement thudding against her tummy.
"Ummmhhh!" She ground her response against him and their bodies molded quickly in an apathetic surge of desire. In seconds Dixil was moaning climax rapture and he was fighting his own urge to orgasm. To hold back when his wife was undulating in her coming had always been a nearly impossible feat for Stew, but this time he succeeded. Ever so slowly the convulsive contractions of her vagina quieted and when he withdrew his shaft of hungry cock-flesh, his wife was nearly asleep.
"C'mon, Dixil ... Catherine's waiting," he urged, testing to see how far gone she was.
"You go, shweetty pie . . . too tired . . . giver a mommy ... Dixie ... kissshh ..." Dixil's words dissipated to nothingness and he reached for the light on the end table. It was everything he had hoped for.
When he stepped out the den door onto the patio, Kitty gave a low teasing whistle. "Thank goodness, for the high walls!" she said as he approached.
He had never been more violently aware of the awkward side-to-side pendulum of his hard-on than now as he strode toward his daughter. He put his finger to his lips lest her voice carry through the window of the master bedroom and cursed himself for failing to remember to close it when he left. Then, feeling the intensity of Kitty's inspection of his naked brazenness, he drew himself up proudly before her stare, tightening his buttocks cheeks to make his ballooning iron-hard prick seem to leap like an independent animal from his front.
"You're a little unbelievable, you know that, don't you?" She shivered suddenly, hugging herself as she tilted her head to accept his rather formal kiss on her forehead. It was the last trace of his treatment of her like a child, except for the use of her full name.
"Why am I unbelievable, Catherine, because I show the way I feel?" He rocked on the balls of his feet to force his erection into a bawdy, vertical leap. "Mommy's too tired to swim tonight. Told me I should come down without her."
"Like this?" Kitty reached for his outspoken cock and for a reason he couldn't understand at first, she began to milk the erection in slow masturbatory strokes.
"Hey ... what gives?" He stepped a half step back quickly, barely out of reach.
"Somebody's got second thoughts 'bout skinny dipping or maybe about something much more intimate," accused the girl softly. i
"No such thing!" Stew's voice sounded brittle to him and he realized the frigging pretense was to bring the whole relationship to a quick decision. The little witch was a lot more mature than he'd given her credit for. "I just wanted to be sure you didn't have second thoughts. You acted kind of funny in the house this evening."
"Who wouldn't with the way things went at the lab this afternoon," pouted Kitty, remembering briefly the way it had been with Henderson Windham and her brother, then quickly putting the thoughts out of her mind. This was the moment she had been breathlessly counting the hours for since the night when at her bedside her father openly surrendered his lust to her. "Anyway, I want to relax and I'm going to swim. Can you-with that?" She looked pointedly at his flesh spear and without waiting his answer, turned to the pool edge and hurled herself into the water in a land of mixed dive and belly flop.
"Beautiful, I guess!" he praised when she surfaced.
"Liar. Come on in, but you better wade or it'll break off."
"Like to live dangerously!" he exclaimed, throwing himself from the edge in a half successful somersault that did nothing for diving form, but protected the high-flung erection.
For a few moments after he jumped into the pool, the two swam silently at opposite ends, each pointedly ignoring the other, each wondering what the other was thinking. For Stew it was an agony of uncertainty. Maybe the girl really had second thoughts and the play strokes were to send him back to his own pursuits, and that bit about a bad day at the lab could be the clue to a remorseful aftertaste.
Kitty pushed over to float on her back and he watched rich breasts stand firm and full above the water. Wild cherries pointed dark and eager from their centers. When she arched her back her pubic mound showed and the three magic curves of her delectable body crested the water's surface for his inspection. He guided his own floating toward the route her body was taking and they bumped "accidentally" as each arrived at the secluded rounded corner of the pool.
"Oops ... sorry!" he chuckled, driven from his floating position to treading water and catching her to his front as she lost her own buoyancy, and went spluttering under.
"With that thing hooked onto you, you should be sorry, but you aren't," she hissed, hugging him tightly in pretense of needing the support to keep from sinking and letting him grind his horny hugeness against the flat of her tummy. "So, when do you start beating me with it?"
"Catherine, doll baby, you're not with that animal anymore. You're home with love and tenderness-with me."
He made the decision then and there to screw Kitty in the water, but her eyes flashed warningly just as he squirmed downward and ground his prick suggestively against her thighs. The voice at the side of the pool directly above them shattered him. "Well now, thash quite a shight!"
He gaped unbelievingly up at the negligee-clad figure of Dixil, swaying unsteadily as she waved his rivieras in one hand and Kitty's bikini in the other. "Big splasshhh woke me up and I shaw you two. Here!" She tossed the swim things into the water. "I changed mind 'bout you shwimmmin bare-naked... sho put 'em on!"
Her glare at Stew made him wonder if she could see through the water at his condition or if she had seen from the bedroom window before she came down. He had deliberately left the underwater pool lights off, just in case of the unexpected.
"Gonna chaperone thish party." She teetered at the pool's edge while Stew trod water, awkwardly trying to put on trunks and Kitty the bikini panties.
"Show Mommy your new dive," Stew called to Kitty, nonchalantly trying to affect that it was all business as usual.
"Mono-kini's okay, isn't it, Mommy?" demanded an obviously annoyed daughter stomping wetly up the tile steps at the low end of the pool and throwing the halter on the flagstone as she pranced toward the diving board.
Dixil was already stretched across the mattress of a deck chair and if she heard she gave no answer. Stew, momentarily at a loss as to his next action, watched carefully. In seconds he had established the pattern of Dixil's breathing as the familiar rhythm of her sleeping, and a wild notion began to take hold. What if he made love to Kitty right in front of Dixil?
Spread the girl wide to his desire and risk everything that Dixil would remain asleep. But he was positive before she would never wake when he left her up there in the bed, and in fifteen minutes she had been fully awake. It could happen again, although he was sure after all these years of observing her sleep he ought to know when she was really out of it. Even as the thought of the daring adventure drove his penis to full hard while he stood beside his wife's prostrate figure, he dismissed the plan as pure madness.
"Show me that dive," he called to a vastly disappointed Kitty climbing slowly up the ladder at the far end of the pool.
"Okay." Her step was half-hearted as she moved onto the diving board to demonstrate the back flip Barry had taught her.
Tossing a nervous glance toward the figure prone on her back beside him, Stew turned to stare at the intoxicating near nudity of his dazzling daughter.
Dark hair spilling almost to the edge of her mini-bikini gold panties, breasts outthrust, vee mound prominent as she poised readying for the dive, Kitty was pure magnet to her audience of one.
He glanced at the deck chair as Dixil stirred restlessly, then twisted to lie on her side facing the pool. Even though her eyes were closed, Stew felt a shiver of uncertainty. She had polished the art of watching from beneath seemingly closed eyelids. She was completely out of it... or was she?
"Come help me, Daddy," called Kitty. "I've been doing the flip wrong and I need someone to hold me till just before I go off the edge. Come on up and I'll show you what I mean."
It was a million miles along the pool edge till he reached the ladder to the high board. Fear that Dixil would wake to see the hard-on standing stiffly against the red elastic of his trunks did nothing to quiet his arousal. Luscious Kitty with the supreme breasts and the animated chassis and the saucy ass waiting on the diving board had him on fire.
When they stood together near the end of the board, Kitty was at the outer edge, precariously balanced with her back toward the water. "Hold me here, Daddy," she nodded over her shoulder to indicate her buttocks, glancing down to where her mother lay as she looked. "You did say you liked to live dangerously, didn't you?"
His arms trembled as he cupped the sleek, taut, tail cheeks tentatively. Instant lightning! The touch drove wild yearning into the already stretched cock-shaft and filled it with an even more fierce frenzy of lust. The fat cap, jammed against the top edge of his rivieras, suddenly squeezed into view and Kitty's eyes danced to his middle. Her look was triumph.
"Hold me tight!" she hissed. "I want to be in a very deep bend before I go off the board."
Seething desire charged his middle and spurred the frantic penis still farther through the opening at the top of his cover. He felt her ass cheeks give an impudent ripple against his hands and then the gorgeous creature was bending back and still farther back away from him, pretending to prepare for the back flip. He stared in helpless runaway lust at the display, now not caring whether his wife woke or even if she were watching at this very moment.
"Good!" enthused Kitty arching. "Pull me back now. I've got the idea." Her foot slipped intentionally against the burlap matting at the end of the board when he drew her toward him and both her legs slid between his as he tried to tug her upright. Their bodies met at the most critical point and he made no effort to keep his ballooning penis from grinding against her skintight bikini panties. Her pussy-cleft was warm and swollen, trembling against his cock, and he knew she was as ready as he to risk.
Her hands dropped to the edge of his rivieras and he watched the red elastic wrinkle as she dragged them downward, exposing his full sex assembly. His prick diagonally across her tummy and his balls swayed pendulously, loaded with love.
"You're gigantic!" she whispered as he lowered her to her back on the diving board. Impatient, he ripped the panties from her and finished stripping his trunks the rest of the way down his legs.
"You're too much," she murmured when he crawled forward, ignoring the light movement of the board, and positioned himself high on her thighs. His cock was angled to the dark line of her cunt-cleft.
"Please!" She arched deeply. "I've been thinking about it all day. I've got to have it quickly. Please!"
That his wife, if she should wake, would see all, no longer mattered to Stew. He aimed the great cock-crown between the tender quim lips and thrust deeply into his daughter's vagina..
"Ohhh ... my God! It's ... beautif ... ohhhh!"
The spring board leaped violently as Kitty's body convulsed in the grip of instantaneous orgasm. Matching her, spasm for spasm and totally commandeered by the tight clasp of her cunty muscles, Stew poured his ejaculation in volcanic bursts into the still only partially filled love tunnel.
"More ... more!" moaned Kitty, feeling the steel remain in the cock after he had finished.
This time he took her slowly and more gently, inching his barrel gradually deeper into the hot excitement of her tender pussy. It was almost impossible to ,let go and ravish the girl in a repeated hurried copulation as she writhed to his torturously slow invasion.
"Harder! Harder!" she begged. "Ooohhh ... fuck me, you bastard stud!"
She thrust against him to force his assault, but he gripped the edges of the board and set his own pace, his mind reefing to what she had called him. To Stewart Carr it was the end of the old world and the beginning of some new uncharted way and why not advertise it to the person most likely to care. She lay down there unconscious, on the deck chair, but if she should open her eyes, why not give Dixil a show?
"Like to five dangerously!" he grunted, stroking in and out but not letting Kitty trap him with those clutching vaginal muscles. "Let's see you live dangerously."
"Oh, Daddy, whuh ... what are you doing?"
"Wrap your legs around my waist," he commanded, urging the full pressure of his body against the meeting place of cock and cunt and sliding her toward the end of the board. When the top of her head was at the edge, he inched the two of them determinedly forward till her head hung far over the tip end of the board ... then her shoulders ... her breasts. She was almost at the center of gravity and any farther would carry them to a sudden fifteen foot drop to the pool water.
"That's wild!" she panted, urging pelvic muscles to lift her tail from the burlap mat across the board's end and simultaneously releasing her leg scissors around his waist. "Now fuck me out of my mind, while I call her!"
Kitty had caught his madness the instant her head draped over the edge of the board and she saw her mother's form still prostrate on the chair at poolside. Now with most of her body shoved over the board edge and hanging precariously, attached to only one hook ... her father's cock ... she understood. Daddy wanted to display their mania for each other.
"Mommy, watch," she called softly and a horror thrill went up and down Stew's spine as he gawked at the motionless Dixil and prayed she would stay that way.
If it didn't, then she would see all. Her husband i arched across their daughter and speared into her sweet body with all his cock power. His head swam with the implications of what he was doing and he knew that he had just put all his life directly on the line for one piece of ass.
Dixil's alcohol-drugged mind resented the needling sounds that tried to disturb her sleep. There was a distant laughter and a sound of voices but that made no sense. Who would be laughing in her bedroom? With an inarticulate murmur she shifted on the deck chair and was vaguely conscious of lights and of feeling very uncomfortable. Then her mind seemed to pick up an image. Was she dreaming? She saw a form, a female form, nude and high above her, arms out-flung, her body appearing to hang suspended, her long dark hair, her beautiful breasts, her face-it was Kitty! A dream, Dixil's drugged thoughts insisted. Then she saw the form mounted atop Kitty. Stewart! Her husband sprawled over the squirming girl and the two were-never! Stew having intercourse with their daughter? Impossible! The insanity of such a dream was too ridiculous and Dixil wriggled to her side to blot the foolish thought from her mind.
"Now ... Daddy ... now!" Kitty was inflamed at the sight of her mother turning from their copulation.
"Yeah ... Lord, yeah!" Stew felt the clutch of her love muscles all along his cock shaft and abruptly, almost driving all the terror at seeing Dixil's movement from his mind, he was locked in climax paralysis. This time as his ejaculation tore wildly into her cunt, Kitty wriggled against his passion to keep from being dropped from the board at the height of his coming. Clinging to the edges while her head went light with the wonder of her father's daring for her, she took his discharge.
Very slowly, as their climaxes ebbed and the movements of the board slowed, then stopped, Stew wormed his hips and legs to work the two of them back to safety. Neither said a word as they unwound and made their way down the ladder. As if expecting her to have seen all, they walked hand-in-hand to the deck chair, braced for the diatribe of deserved outrage when Dixil rolled back to face them. She lay motionless and a wave of relief flooded the two whose adventure had begun to pale as soon as their reason returned.
"Should we put our things on?" Kitty's eyes were bright but not with fear.
He smiled, glanced down at the dangle of his penis and shook his head at the glisten that shone along its length.
"Wake up, sleepy," he whispered hoarsely, bending to brush a lock from Dixil's eyes. The incongruity of the tenderness after his action with her made it a comic anticlimax to Kitty.
Together they walked Dixil up the stairs to the master bedroom and by the time they reached the threshold of the room, he was in full erection again. Somewhat breathlessly, both waited for Dixil's awakening to the indecent display before his daughter, but her eyes never opened as they half-led, half-carried her across the deep pile carpet of the room. She was totally oblivious to her escorts.
Quietly Stew and Kitty stole from the room and almost ran down the hall to the waiting bed. Moments later, arms and legs entwined in a need that had ballooned uncontrollably in the wake of their daring on the high board, they drove at each other.
When they were done, Carr fell away from the girl, looking past her through the window and feeling the enormity of his action. There was no longer choice left to him. No longer a daughter in his eyes, she was cock-crazing female who had to have what he wore at his groin.
Stew squirmed to his knees and moved to the foot of Kitty's bed, then looked worshipfully at the sweet body undulating slowly and expectantly before him. Tenderly he kissed each toe, working with infinite patience up the shapely leg, kissing and brushing lightly at the muscles of her calf, her knee, her thigh, till he was at the cleft between her legs.
He nibbled the soft and yielding vulva and heard her low moan of rapture when his tongue slid just within the cunty crevice. He savored the moisture and licked the tart, honey taste that had gathered there from their spunk madness on the board.
"Ooohhh ... Daddeee ... yesss!" The cry burst happily from her lips as she felt the clit bend to his probing. Round and round the little climax trigger his tongue crept and her body was a wriggling gorgeous thing, straining and contorting to the sensations that swept her. Mad for the emotion to go on and on, she thrust her hips to drive at Stew's demanding lips.
"I . . . I . . . ohhh!" She climaxed in a frenzy of motion, fists beating powerlessly on his shoulders, pounding their joy against him.
He lay quietly in the warm nest between her thighs and as she recovered her breath, he stared at the dark slit, intrigued by the way the pussy tissue still trembled in ready invitation to another invasion. Gently he traced the love-lips and heard the low cry of her need beg him to take her still again. He kissed the palpitating vulva and tenderly tongued the puffy labia flesh, slightly reddened from their romp.
So new. So young. Others had had her, he remembered, but they had done it brutishly and against her wishes to satisfy her rotten Arnold. Dixil had told him some of the things Kitty had told her mother. It was really Dixil's repeated urging that he get close, that he touch, even stroke and kiss this daughter he'd hardly ever shown affection to in her growing-up years-it was that accusation from his wife that had really triggered all the lust, Stew tried to rationalize. But the hypocrisy wouldn't wash.
He lay motionless, trying to justify what he had done as a deed that had really been in her best interests to bring her back to the full hetero life in a way that nothing in conversation or buddy-buddy affection ever could. No way he could give himself the Samaritan feeling. What he had done, he had done for Stew Carr's cock and his libido was showing and the rest was bullshit. He knew in this moment of slow awakening that to make any more of it than simple masculine desire for a sizzling female body that wanted his, was to be a total liar. That he couldn't be .. . adulterous, yes . . . incestuous, yes, but there were still lines he couldn't cross and one was to he to himself.
Kitty was desire and the desire even now wouldn't let go. At forty-five he was acting like twenty-five and there was no cooling his lust. The guilt grabbed as he began to kiss the line that led from her sex center to her hip, back again, and up the other side, till he reached the rounding of her hip, then curved into her narrow waist and turned upward. Breathing soft kisses across the silken-skinned rib cage and letting his fingers move just ahead of his lips, he crept up her body, nibbling the taut nipples and brushing lightly across thrusting globes to nuzzle finally in the hollow of her neck. There he lay, unmoving and silent, for what seemed hours to Kitty.
"Daddy's feeling guilty." She stated it as a matter of fact.
"Kinda," he admitted.
"You're thinking about all the headlines that might appear and you're thinking about ah you might catch from Mommy and you're thinking about what you've probably done to me."
"Mostly the last."
A warm tear drifted down her cheek and moistened his temple. "You didn't do a single wrong thing," came the whisper. "I'm a big girl now and ... oh, please, tell me the truth ... didn't I make you happy?"
"Very happy."
"Why do you feel guilty then?"
"Because ... well, damn it! It might just start you off on a whole cockeyed new track after the weird trip that Arnold Asshole Graber gave you."
"Hnnnnph!" She was silent a minute and he waited, not knowing what to say, not wanting to break the embrace, in spite of the remorse. "I think I have a very conceited father."
"No arguments." He stirred uncomfortably. "Gotta be conceited to do what I just did."
"Trust time, Daddy?"
"Sure, you know that"
"Okay then." She took a deep breath. "I have wanted you to fuck me since I was old enough to peek through your bedroom door and watch you put it into Mommy."
"You're kidding! When did you ever-?"
"Lots of times! You two were so involved you never knew but me and sometimes Barry, too, would sneak down, wait'll the right sounds and then twist the door knob real carefully to let us see just enough."
"You dickens!" Stew's thoughts tore back over the years and vaguely he remembered Dixil's complaints at times that he had failed to fully close the door and someone could have come by when they were doing it. Then his tumbling thoughts went over to the remark about Barry. Sister and brother in the hall together some of the time, she had admitted. Had they implemented the sex education they got? "Did you-"
Again the impatient interruption. "You're just like a glass house, Daddy. Are you ever transparent! I knew you'd ask. No we didn't, not then." She stopped and waited for the inevitable follow-up.
"Not then?" His voice was brittle, tight.
"Your fingers are squeezing, Daddy." She covered the hand at her side and he relaxed the pressure he was unaware he had been putting on her hip. "No, not then. But I wonder what you're going to say now. If you want, you can put your hand right on my throat and squeeze the life out of me and I won't fight you."
"Why in the world would I ever want to do a thing like that?"
"Maybe when I tell you more of the truth. I have wanted to be taken by my father for as long as I can remember. It drove me nuts after I married Arnold that I hadn't done it with you and made him do it with me before we were married. We never would have been."
'So, I think I maybe agree with you."
"I hope so." She snuggled very tightly to him and he felt her warm body quiver slightly as she took a deep breath, gathering courage for the next confession. "I said we never played before I went away, Barry and me, but since I came home I have seduced him and I have taught him everything I know about intercourse and love-play and he loves it. We've been making it at least once a day and you know something?" She hurried on, feeling her father's frame begin to tremble. "I really believe that while I did it for my own good and because I was out of my tree horny for real cock, that I did a lot for his good with other girls and with the girl he finally marries.'
"Good God, Kitty!" Stew tried to sit up and the spluttering explosion of his shock at her confession just wouldn't come together in a coherent sentence. "What the hell ... whatever can ... my God!" The enormity of the situation built in the family and right under his nose and ... incredibly by his own lust, was beginning to come into focus.
"Soooo, since you haven't strangled me yet, I am going to give you the last and the very best reason for it. Maybe it's what you might call my death wish to admit to this, but I'm going to anyway. If it's my death wish instinct, I hope I die riding on the end of my father's great horribly beautiful cock, but I also have been doing it with your other son."
"With ... Dennis?" His voice was very low and very shaken.
"Yes. He has been my special project down at the hospital and it really has been legitimate. I'm studying motility in sperm cells and I had to work with a young, early adolescent male. So, when Denny started to show signs of being hot and bothered over his sister, I just. . . well, put two and two together and it made us. Sure ... I could make all the same rationalities I did for seducing Barry, but Daddy, I can't he. It wasn't for any reasons of unselfishness that I wanted any one of you ... not because I felt sorry that you and Mommy are obviously uptight at each other and I wanted to make it nicer for you . . . that was my first big excuse to me. But the truth is I just wanted your penis squirting crazy juice into my vagina. I just wanted Barry's penis squirting his into me and I wanted Denny's because it just looked like fun. So go ahead and kill me-I deserve it!"
For minutes the silence was heavy through the room as Stew absorbed the full dimensions of the actions. Then he felt her fingers squeezing fiercely into his thigh and he looked down and his cock was stiff and urgent and quivering in readiness. Every word of her confession had simply made him even wilder with want. He knew he could never, ever accuse his sons or even interfere if Kitty wanted to continue the three-way game.
"What are you going to do?" Her question was more a plea than anything he'd ever heard from his daughter.
Without a word he groped between their bodies and guided his erection to the needy crevice. The two had launched a thing between them that had all the marks of pure disaster. Stew could think of no in-family sex play that had ever ended in less than catastrophe and yet even as he thought it, he urged his cock through super-heated cunty lips and pushed forward.
"Do it, Daddy! Do it hard! Hurt me ... oh, punish me for what I've done."
Was her begging to be hurt her own guilt crying out? he wondered. He drove his brimming organ savagely through the snug sheath of her cunt and all reason left when he felt her ream back to claim more and more of his erection.
"It's good ... oh, yes ... please ... I'm ...!"
A roaring barrage of semen raced like a geyser from the man and Kitty met it with her own soaring finish. Then for a brief moment the two lay quiet and motionless.
"I love you for your honesty," he whispered, sitting up abruptly and sliding from the bed. "And now I have to get the hell away from you and think."
"Please." Her eyes were bright in the dim light of the room. "You won't go after Barry or Dennis for what I did to them?"
He shrugged helplessly. "I think maybe you've done a lot for them and maybe you should be thanked."
"I've been thanked," she murmured.
CHAPTER EIGHT
A disturbed Director of Graduate Studies at Merriweather Hospital sat pensive in his office, his back to his desk, staring out the picture window at the parking lot.
Henderson Windham was only vaguely conscious of the small army of girls in white uniforms hurrying for their cars as the shifts changed. Since the week before last he had seen virtually nothing of the goings on around him in grad school or hospital. Not since the blow-up at home with his wife.
"Hell with it!" grunted Hen, spinning his high back executive leather away from the window to confront the piles of unattended correspondence stacked neatly dead center on-his desk. His secretary had labeled the stacks "Priority", "Important" and the third, "Desperate." He grunted unappreciatively at the humor. It sounded like a commentary on his decision to divorce his wife of twenty-five years. Brunhilda was a bitch, ice cold and merciless, and she always would be. The divorce was already in motion.
He ran nervous fingers through his prematurely white hair and wondered how much of his decision had been provoked by what he had watched of the ways of another woman. Would she still be in her room in the lab? He pushed from his desk and walked to his bathroom. It was just after four and she was usually there in Room 5 till four-thirty.
"Kitty Carr, you're something else," he murmured aloud, studying his image in the mirror. "Got Mister Respectable about to make a total jackass of himself."
His relationship to Kitty had taken a sudden unexpected turn the day she had had the change of heart, or the misunderstanding, or whatever it was with that kid brother of hers. Henderson had been at his voyeur post in the room adjacent to 5, watching another mini-orgy unfold between Dennis and Kitty.
For weeks their play had been going on, till the past Tuesday when Denny arrived promptly as usual at three to find a different Kitty waiting for him.
It was obvious to Henderson that she was preoccupied and that something was wrong, in the moments he stood on the viewing side of the see-through glass and watched her working. Usually she would peel her street clothes down to bra and panties and slip into the lab smock preparatory to going to her lab stool. The experiments she had set up around the microscope for the afternoon's work kept her busy till the musical chime at the door of her room announced the arrival of her brother.
Hen had been enthralled at the passionate play between the two and the determination by Kitty to always collect her semen specimen at each of Denny's orgasms wherever the play was. In fact the director was so caught up in the action as the unseen spectator that he had announced to his secretary that for an indefinite time she'd be taking late lunch, likely from two-fifty to four. She seemed to buy his excuse about volleyball at the "Y" and the wing where Kitty worked was offset from the main building, so the deception appeared to be successful. After he'd blown his stack at Brunhilda and left home, the fun and games Kitty invented had been impossible to stay away from for the grad school director.
The hardest decision Henderson had made was not to take his own visits to the cock-maddening female beyond the stage he'd established in their first encounters. He knew she dug him as a male and not as the director of studies. He knew from her performance with Denny, till the last meeting, that he could easily seduce her.
Something held him back. Even though she had been intimate with her brother unnumbered times, unaware of her one man audience, Hen was far from convinced that she was a nymph to whom sex was cheap. There was something about Kitty that always remained a lady. Even when she was wrapped in illicit sex action, involved in what ninety-nine percent of his hospital staff would condemn, there was something very self-assured and purposeful in her abandon. With his separation from Brunhilda, Hen had been a captive to this girl more than half his age. That too had prevented his making any overtures to her beyond their already somewhat bizarre relationship.
So twice a week he slipped into Room 5 to make his "donation" as she called it, to her studies in sperm motility. It was the high-watermark of his week. She would slip from her smock and pose prettily before him, cooing praise for his impressive size and holding the test tube daintily till he gasped his orgasm's arrival. That he would let himself go enough to masturbate before her was a thrill to Kitty and a constant surprise to Hen. She was genuine in her admiration and she was generous in her appreciation, just as she had been that first time.
"Call it a kind of secondary test," she apologized when she had asked for permission to perform fellatio on his second trip to her lab and established it as part of every visit thereafter. "I've heard of virile men in their fifties, but for you to be able to masturbate and keep your erection till I suck you is just phenomenal!"
He had never told her that it was the more phenomenal since usually before his bi-weekly visit for the "donation" he had masturbated himself in the viewing room that same day.
A man his age able to fire off three blasts a day was kind of special. Hen preened himself smugly before his bathroom mirror, readying for his first surprise visit to Kitty. He hadn't been able to shake her dismissal of her brother Denny. It had been a curt break-off, almost cruel. When Denny had arrived, he'd gone through the usual motions of sweeping up her lab, then dropped onto the day bed to rest till she was ready.
"Let's not," she'd murmured when Denny, impatient that she was taking so long, had sidled over and pressed his excitement against her back while she huddled over her microscope.
"Huh?" The fourteen-year-old was clearly shaken. "What's 'let's not' mean?"
"It means I think we shouldn't do this any more, so why don't you run along?" The moisture in her eye was never noticed by a shaken adolescent who looked as if he'd been slapped with a wet towel when he rushed from Room 5.
The episode had needled at Henderson Windham for the past twenty-four hours and her vasdy defeated air when he stole in again for surreptitious study through the see-through mirror, warned him he was about to lose his most interesting grad student ever. In fact, he had long since ceased considering her one of the students at Merriweather-she had become someone special.
Now he hurried down the long tiled hall to the grad wing and went directly to her door. No time for a check via the "observation room to see what she was doing; his mind was made up; he had decided on a new course. There was no answer to his knock and none to his call. She had gone. It was another rum. Probably a bad one. Kitty always kept a precise schedule. Wondering if he'd missed the opportunity of his life, Hen wandered dejectedly out to the hospital parking lot to his car. A round of golf wasn't anything to what he had in mind, but it would help him forget, he reasoned.
The house was very quiet when Kitty reached home. Whenever the men were gone there always seemed a strange kind of silence around the house and it was knowing they were gone that brought her home early from the hospital. Daddy and Denny had gone to cheer Barry at the finals at Seton Hall. There'd be no one except herself and Mommy till after midnight. It was the way Kitty wanted it.
She had created a monstrous desire in three men and now one knew about the other two. Her own mother hadn't the slightest clue about any of the liaisons and when Dixil learned, Kitty had no doubt she would be on the street and long-gone out of the family. The trouble was not only with the mounting heat of the men, it was the sudden discovery by Kitty herself that she wanted out of the orgy play she had started.
Not that she didn't love it; perhaps, she thought, she loved it too much and yet had come to the inescapable. A catastrophe was nearing. Sooner or later one of the three, and they each wanted her every day at least once, was going to slip up and give away the intimacy. But it was more than just that she might get caught. Kitty knew what she had set in motion was worse.
In the TV den only last night she had been alone watching the rerun of an old black and white soap, but the bad movie hadn't kept first Denny, then Daddy and finally Barry from joining her. Glances from time to time confirmed what she suspected. Every one of the three was watching her and the vibes in the den were sexy and ready. Her great seduction was drawing closer and closer to the ultimate crisis. All three were in semi or full erection constantly under cover, but visible. It decided her.
"That you, Kitty?''
"It's me. Just came back early. Wanted to nap."
She hurried to her room, not up for chit chat. Stripping, she tumbled into bed, hoping her closed door would discourage a visit. It did. Dixil got the message and while her curiosity was almost uncontrollable, she respected whatever was bugging her strange daughter who had for a time bloomed from the compliments and the conversations the three males in the family directed her way, but who now seemed to be retrogressing to the way she was when she first came home.
Several hours later Dixil called softly from the foot of the stairwell that supper was ready. No answer. With the men away for the evening, the hours ahead seemed dull beyond bearing to a frustrated Dixil. Even the Dewars was a bore of an escape from the reality that things were going badly in the Carr family. At eight Dixil headed for the master bedroom to spend an evening that looked impossibly long watching the tube.
It was a very timid knock. Scarcely audible. For a minute Dixil thought it was a sound on the television. Then it was repeated.
"Come in."
"Mommy, can we talk?" Her eyes were wet and red and it was plain Kitty had reached a turning point "I've been an awful bitch."
"Baby ..." Dixil's arms reached to catch the trembling form and cupped Kitty close. "You could never be that! Don't ever even say it . . . you're a lady."
"Will you listen? I just know you're going to kill me and that's okay, too...."
Dixil's eyes were dark, angry circles and she pressed impatient fingertips to stop her daughter's words. "I want you to tell me everything you want to. But before you do, I'm going to tell you something. I think I know some of what it's about. I've watched Daddy and I've watched Barry and I've watched Denny when they look at you. I think I know some things another woman can tell ... but I want you to tell me ... then we'll talk about what we want to do about it"
Stewart Carr glanced in surprise at the second floor while he waited for Denny to open the garage door. For the master bedroom to be showing a light after midnight was unusual and for Kitty's window farther down the second floor back to be darkened was even more unusual. Dixil awake and Kitty sacked already? It was going to be a different pattern for the night. If his wife was sober that could be pleasant, too, he reasoned, hearing Barry's continuing chatter at his side, even as he plotted potentials for his night sex.
New state champ in his weight lifting class, Barry was exuberant over his victory and equally depressed over the blacked-out window in Kitty's bedroom. No likely visit tonight, he thought. The garage door closed behind three radically different moods as the males went their separate ways muttering "goodnight" as they parted.
Dennis, still smarting over his sister's rejection at Merriweather, headed disconsolately to bed to quiet what had been a powerful build-up of sexual need unmet for the first day in weeks. Barry, hoping his sister would make her nightly trip to visit him, hurried to his room.
Stew lingered over a nightcap for fifteen minutes before following his sons, torn between a stop at Kitty's room and a curiosity about Dixil's changed pattern. After a second stiff drink kept him in dilemma, he opted for the master bedroom, never imagining the girls had already set in motion a plan to bring all that had tilted the Carr family off on separate sexual capers into one room for one collision encounter.
Stew saw the light shining from under the door go out as he reached the top stair and started down the hall. At least it meant that Dixil was awake and probably had heard him trying to tiptoe on the creaky steps. He passed Kitty's door without slowing, his eye on the torn paper tacked to the master bedroom door.
Squinting in the dim hall light, he read the odd message: "Stew darling: we girls are cuddling. For old times' sake, why don't you collect the boys and come join us? Dixie."
"Dixie?" he mused aloud, puzzled by the strange quickening he felt in his loins. Why did his wife sign "Dixie" not Dixil, he wondered, reaching for the doorknob, then hesitating at the intense silence beyond the closed door. Dixil wasn't one to play jokes; it had to have serious purpose.
Perhaps, he decided, turning back down the hall to go for Dennis and Barry, it was a mommy's way of rejuvenating old times when the five of them used to cuddle in the same bed. But that was ten years ago and light-years before his relationship with Kitty had changed everything.
Two wide-awake, puzzled but willing sons trailed their father to the master bedroom, Barry cinching his pajama shorts at the waist and Dennis wishing his father had knocked before coming for him. He'd been caught in high gear with his self-play, but Stew seemed not to notice.
Now, pausing at the door, Stew felt slightly more than foolish as he tapped lightly for admission to his own room. But it was that kind of twisted-around mess. When a distant giggle answered his knock, he felt a storm of relief. Whatever, it wasn't the disaster he'd braced for.
They lay together in the middle of the bed watching the three approach across the room. In the filtering moonlight shining across the crimson satin spread of the unopened bed, their bodies were devastatingly sexual. At the entry of the men, Dixil and Kitty had disengaged from their embrace and lay in glorious wanton display of their torrid nudity. That she was mother to two of the males coming toward her was clearly of no consideration to Dixil.
"For old times, Stewart," she cooed to her husband, "you and the boys come join us. But you have to be like we are and get out of your things."
"Sure, doll. C'mon, boys."
A storm of mixed passions ripped at Stew as he peeled shirt and slacks. No trying to read Dixil this time, he concluded, thankful the shock had kept his cock subdued and quiescent and feeling sorry for Barry and Dennis that the sight on the bed had driven them both to instant total erections. What could have happened to impel Dixil to such a dramatic step? Surely no confession from Kitty; that would have provoked murder. His.
He could never have been more wrong. Dixil, determined to save her home and help her mixed-up family find itself again, had determined dramatic sex-shock was the only way.
"Denny, you get over beside your sister, and Barry, you come over beside me. We'll let Daddy fit in anywhere he can." She motioned imperiously to Barry who hesitated, then tumbled in beside her. She grabbed in pretended amazement at his jutting phallus nudging her rear. "What in the world, Kitty, will you look at the size of this man?"
"I've got one almost as big," responded the not-so-sure Kitty, awed by the way her mother had taken the confession and completely submissive to the daring shocker Dixil had planned in the hours before the men got home.
"You'd think these were the only way in the world girls get happy, the way men keep advertisin', wouldn't you?" demanded Dixil, scrunching toward the center of the bed. "Let's show 'em our favorite way," she said, voice low and sultry as she pushed to an elbow to stare down at the stacked golden-skinned perfection of her daughter. Lightheaded with the daring and with anticipation of more of what Kitty had led her to relish without shame during the hours before midnight, Dixil leaned across the animated fullness of her daughter's boob. In the moonlight, the white where the halter of her bikini covered when Kitty suntanned was ivory perfection accenting twin hillocks of sheer maddening female flesh, dotted in the center with turgid cones.
"My God, Dixil . . . don't!" croaked Stew as he saw his wife writhe across the outspread wonder of their daughter.
"Why not, Stew? And by the way, Kitty calls me 'Dixie.' I like it better than Dixil, but Stew baby, what's wrong? You want to trade places with me . . . right? But that's not what we two meant by 'old times,' dear."
The bombshell went off inside the man's head. His wife KNEW! She knew he had been intimate with Kitty ... yet she even allowed him in the room after ... after incest!
"Or maybe the boys would rather trade ... right, Barry ...? right, Denny? You've been here." She turned contemptuously away from the three of them. "But now ... it's my turn!"
Stew felt his world blast into a thousand crazy pieces as he tried to absorb that last and saw the expressions on the faces of Barry and Dennis confirm it all.
"It's my turn first, then it's family smorgasbord. You can all pick and take it your way." She jerked impatiently away from her husband's attempt to embrace her and Stew recoiled as if struck, crawling to the far side of the bed, watching the incredible spectacle unfold.
Two sizzling voluptuous bodies in the middle of the bed groping for each other; two youthful, uproariously aroused males stretched directly behind each of the females, uncomprehending the implications of their mother's words, but knowing by her actions they were wanted near.
Barry and Dennis had both worshipped Kitty from afar and her dazzling non-maternal figure had been an enticing no-no for both for years. Now they were invited near to watch her own appetite for another female! With what their sister had led them to discover about heterosexuality it was almost unbearable.
Dixil grabbed for arms that seemed to be waiting and quickly pinioned Kitty against the bedspread, all her wriggling perfection on bared display. With an impatient cry she spread her captive's arms to either side, then drove her shapely legs far apart with a not-too-gentle kneeing action. It was supremely disturbing to the men to see their fantastically tantalizing femaleness, to watch women preoccupied with each other.
Impossible for any one of the three not to go harder than ever he had been before at the sight of Dixil hovered in mock victory over the body of her daughter, poised and ready to stroke, while Kitty lay outstretched and waiting in surrender.
"I am going to allow one thing," said Dixil in slow, even tones. "While we girls play, you boys, but not you, Stew, can do whatever men like to do most with women's bodies." Then, apparently blanking the males from further conversation, she twisted, lowering herself slowly till her body was touching Kitty's ever-so-lightly.
Rotating her shoulders and hips, she let her rich boobs brush tantalizingly across Kitty's jutting breasts, moving in rhythmic torture of the girl's front, taut nipples rubbing against even harder nipples, then pressing together. Before the eyes of the dumbfounded males, the female curves meshed, titty grinding against titty and pubic mound against pubic mound.
Kitty moaned helplessly as she' felt her mother shift position and begin to kiss and tongue-love her way across her heaving breasts down her midriff and over her trembling tummy plateau.
"Kitty, darling ... this is your Dixie ..." cooed Dixil when she reached the frantically quivering cunty cleft. "Our men think we need them. I don't, do you? All they know is cocks for exciting girls. Let's show 'em the truth ..
The girl beneath her was pleading, "... tongue me! Suck my clitty! I'm going out of my skull!"
The enthralled spectators watched Kitty's body arch in a deep trembling curve as Dixil speared a moist, stiffened tongue far into the recesses of her passion pit. If there had been any doubt before, it was clear by her shriek of orgasm that all pretense was gone. Kitty and Dixil, too, fired by the spasms racking their bodies, were gripped in overpowering simultaneous climax.
With a flurry of golden arms and shapely legs, the pair rolled and struggled in the center of the bed, out of control with excitement for each other, each forcing her playmate to bend in wild contortion and offer her pussy-flesh to grateful lips. The stunned males gawked at the curvaceous, struggling girl-flesh and saw ruby lips burrowing and dark hair bouncing as Kitty assaulted her target with little squeals of "Dixie, I love you ..." while platinum-silver tresses bounced across Dixil's smoothly turned shoulders as she burrowed deeply between Kitty's legs.
"Oh, God! I gotta!" yelped Barry when the runaway orgasms that claimed the two females subsided briefly and Kitty and Dixil surfaced for brief swallows of air. He grabbed frenziedly at Kitty's hips across his mother's body and was rewarded with a stinging slap across the cheek.
'Take her, big man!" taunted Kitty. "This thing's mine!" She squirmed toward her younger brother and just that fast Stew saw his family dissolve before his eyes.
The build-up of lust had been far too great in both Barry and Dennis to brook any more delay. With an elated exchange of glances the two overwhelmed young males leaped across the succulent, tantalizing Kitty and Dixil, while their horror-stricken father stared in disbelief. It couldn't have come to this! Yet it had and he had brought it here.
"Have all of us you can take, you beautiful men!" gasped Dixil as Barry's knobby hugeness probed in initial uncertainty through yielding quim lips. "Stew, watch!" she called breathlessly across the bed. "He came from here." She fingered through to her pudendum. "Flesh of my flesh ... bone of my bone ... and now ... ooohhh, Stew, doll.. .! He's putting the bone back in me!"
Her husband gawked in transfixed terror at the sight of the sudden conversion of the loving wife he had known for more than two decades to a female crazed for the cocks of her sons.
"Fuck me, Barry, fuck me! Stew, you like me doing it with him, don't you?"
Protest started to spill from Stew's lips and choked off as he saw no one was listening. Kitty meshed in Denny's body and Dixil possessed of Barry's were in a demon-driven copulation frenzy. He stared at the writhing wonders of both the girls ... and if Dixil was truly forty-two, she seemed only a girl to the spectator . . . and both girls were in orgasm.
Their jungle-like suppleness squirming in female want on the impaling cocks, Dixil and Kitty were wriggling impassioned witches. Breasts jutting, hardened nipples skyward, hips writhing to the relentless pumping of their lovers-of-the-moment. It was a shock Stew knew he would never fully recover from when he heard his oldest son shriek his orgasm's arrival and begin to pump his ejaculation into Dixil's vagina. Shock compounded when moments later the boys switched partners, neither losing his hard-on even after discharging frenziedly seconds before.
Stew gaped at the sight of Barry's semen drooling from the cleft of Dixil's cunty-lips, just before an eager Dennis thrust himself between her thighs. Her eyes were fixed unblinkingly on her husband's face as she took their second son's best and it was that look that drove Stew from the bed.
He stumbled into the hall. The sounds of mingled male and female rapture following him from what till this night had been the master bedroom and now was a room for anyone but the master.
"Stew." Her call stopped him just as he was moving from the range of the sound of their ecstasies. "Stew
..." The call repeated when he paused. .. come back, Stew."
"Yeah," he muttered, standing dejectedly in the threshold of his bedroom. "I've got it coming ... I was stupid. I'll get the hell out of the way."
"No way!" Her eyes sparkled. "You're going to watch and then you're going to put things back together around here. After I've had the chance to catch up a little and know you know how it feels!"
Stew gaped at her, his body numb. Dixil wasn't lost-not altogether, maybe. Kitty had been disturbed and tormented about her marriage and he had only added to her dilemmas. Whether she was serious about the older man who directed the grad school who she said was her kind of man, was anybody's guess.
How he'd ever put the jigsaw mess he'd made together again, Stew knew damned well he didn't know. All he knew was there was that mischief in Dixil's eyes when she met and held his stare and it said that all the lights between them hadn't gone out.
